Last year, a friend of mine took on beekeeping. While this same friend also had a healthy fear of bees (like myself), she took on this challenge while the great illness was upon us. She attempted to convince me to try it myself (truthfully, why not since I use honey all the time now- still haven’t brought myself to do it). She introduced me to “Honey and Venom: Confessions of an Urban Beekeeper” By Andrew Cote. Intrigued by the title, I ordered it from the library (we live a frugal life here as artists).
I became hooked. Cote tells all the stories in a relatable and humorous way while offering the reader much knowledge about beekeeping. He did not hold back on how he felt, nor did he hold back on info that could help readers consider or not consider beekeeping for themselves. Cote gave me some insight into a culture I would’ve never known, probably pre-pandemic.
As a beekeeping skeptic, I was nervous learning that bees don’t take too kindly to banana scents. As Cote mentioned his trip to Uganda, “So that banana-like alarm pheromone encourages honey bees to sting and sting again– and again and again- in the same area (p19).” As a Liberian American who likes fried plantain too much and loves to bake no-nut banana bread, it was a no for me. However, I continued to read.
He wrote about an occasion that made me concerned for the bees. A sketchy real estate agent contacted him to help move beehives and honey. A client had more than forty hives with bees and honey still in them. The poor worker bees were freaking out, and neighbors were terrified of the hot mess. Without giving too much, the whole situation was sketchy.
As someone who lives in a relatively urban area in my state, it was interesting to learn that Cote kept his bees on top of buildings in New York City. I was scared of possible falling while trying to tend to flying little critters. Not Cote, of course, but I think he’s been beekeeping longer than I’ve been alive.
Final thoughts:
- This is a great read
- I’m slightly more open to beekeeping
Kou T. Nyan 