Love in a Jar

This evening I got into my stash. Yes, I have a stash. It is kept in a box in a bottom cabinet and nobody gets into it but me. And I only get into it on special occasions.

I’ve had an occasion or two recently to get into it. A visitor came last week and knowing the gentleman’s fine taste, I broke out the box. Only a connoisseur would appreciate it, and he did indeed enjoy the samples he selected.

I got it out again this evening. I had acquired several new specimens to add to my collection and needed to rearrange everything. As I did I thought back over the last several years. I generally don’t partake in the evenings as I did tonight, but somehow I couldn’t help it. Call it the lust of the flesh or whatever, I love my Honey.

Yes, I love Papa Horton with all my heart, but I love my collection of fine, and some rare honeys too. I have specimens Australia, New Zealand and Italy, and quite a few gourmet American honeys. My most recent gourmet acquisition is (Black) Titi, harvested by the above mentioned gentleman who is an outstanding beekeeper.

I couldn’t help but think of all the love that went into this box – the strawberry honey from Mr. Joe’s pollination experiment, the creamed peach honey from his backyard. Several beekeepers from around Alabama have donated samples of fine honey to our club and my kids have blessed me with unusual honeys from their travels. I have an ole timey jar of chunk honey thanks to Brian; cranberry honey from New England compliments of Mike. Cindy started it all with a jar of Outback Honey from Australia. Becky was with me when I found the Michigan Star thistle and Basswood honey.

The Bible records several instances when honey was given as a gift of goodwill. It makes sense. I had to smile as I thought of all the love and goodwill I’ve received over the last few years. Today was a rough day for me and the honey, while I know it was good for me, was only part of the blessing. No matter what you call it, it’s still love in a jar.