"I haven't seen honey comb in ages," I said the other day when half a dozen of us (women) were sitting at lunch talking about food additives. Someone said she had read that most honey on the market is not pure honey but a mixure of syrups and preservatives. (As if honey needs an additive!). I believe she is probably right (I'm willing to believe anything stupid and venal that the food industry might do).
That morning I had put honey on whole grain toast and noticed, sadly that the jar is almost empty. It was given to me last Christmas and is named Bumble Rumble Honey from a private apiary in Barnstable, Massachussets -- which is to say not more than ten miles away from where I live. I believe this to be pure honey and I truly enjoyed it. Then came my comment about honey comb. True I used to see it frequently as a choice in the grocery departments but haven't see it for a very long time.
As soon as one thinks of a thing it often appears (except parking places at the mall at Christmas time). This morning, at a no frills produce outlet that I frequent -- the kind that is a commercial outlet for a company that mainly supplies local restaurants with produce they buy daily from the whoelsale markets in Boston -- I saw, beside the cash register two small jars of honey with the comb inside. They were only 6 or 8 ounces and cost $23.95 each. A stiff price for a lot of beeswax! But the experience proves it is still to be found. I will definitely tell my friends the next time we meet but I'm not feeling generous enough to buy a jar for each of them as a Christmas gift.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!