Well, I’ve done it. I have joined the ranks of migratory beekeepers. Granted, this is similar to the time I joined the ranks of America’s soybean farmers. On that occasion, which I will not detail extensively for fear of paralyzing myself with cringe-worthy memories, I showed up at our local grain elevator with a mammoth load of soybeans on the back of my pickup truck. Mammoth for me, I should say, because I was using a combine that can be best described as a museum piece, or as my wife liked to call it, a piece of junk. I am a sucker for old rusty equipment, mostly because it is the only type I can afford. This was an old pull combine, meaning I pulled it through the field of soybeans with a tractor, while it decided where and when it wanted to break down.
