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It was going to happen one day

It did seem a little like this. Photo by J.D. Griggs edit by User:Mbz1 (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

I knew it was going to happen one day – and that day came last night after more than twenty years.

I knew I’d have a honey spill carrying buckets between the warming cabinet and bottling in the kitchen. But at least I had the foresight to move the honey-warming cabinet downstairs. And at least I took care to make sure the lids were on each plastic bucket before moving it. I even knew to take care using these new-fangled all-plastic buckets (my older and better ones are sturdier and have metal handles).

But it happened anyway – the plastic handle broke and on hitting the ground the lid broke – more than 7 kg of warm liquid honey surged over the kitchen floor. At fifteen minutes to midnight, the silent assassin had struck. It was all so quietly done. Well, apart from my single-syllable, anglo-saxon outbursts.

The good news is that I had reached the kitchen having successfully carried the honey over the hall carpet. There was more quite unexpected good news: the kitchen floor is very slightly concave. And the honey was quite viscous. But there the good news ended for the next hour.

I discovered new things: honey is not just sticky, it’s slippy, very slippy! Taking off my socks to wade through the warm goo, I almost ended up where I least wanted.

Rushing to get towels to soak up the slowly spreading lava flow, I had to try to clean my feet – and of course the flow was strategically placed between me and the sink.

I have no photos of my joy. Even in the age of the selfie, I had another priority.

Thank goodness for the slightly concave floor. This morning, apart from unexpected stickiness in unusual places and a faintly sinister gleam off the floor, I think all is well and there is no need to let bees loose to clean up the mess.

I knew it would happen.

Turlough
Vita’s Guest Beekeeper Blogger

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