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Background: http://www.dailystrength.org/c/Post-Traumatic_Stress_Disorder/forum/20584779-paradigm-shift-update
Hubs is the beekeeper. My entry into the biz was thwarted by the dramas connected to moving the apiary off the Father-in-law's investment property in the Brazos Valley. Discovering I had acquired the beekeeper's allergy (very different from the common allergy) further complicated my hive involvement. I am still suffering panic attacks when I see bees. Still not trusting the Epi-pen research which prevails in the medical dogma.
During my years of scouting watersheds, bees are and always have been my most trusted guides to the best plant communities. I consider them Nature's authorities on those edible plants hidden deep in the "Weed patches." Me and bees go back to when my presence in my cherished watersheds was developed of the need to hide from family perverts. Herstorically, I have had more allergic reaction to mosquito bites than bee stings. Losing my place in hubby's hobby hasn't affected me as much as acquiring a fear of my most trusted watershed guides.
I am in the midst of some exposure therapy on that score. Hubs is increasing his hives this month. 'Tis the season. He is also getting gang-banged at his paying gig. 'Tis the season for that, too. Yesterday I did him the favor of driving to the Brazos Valley (about 90 miles) to pick up 2 packages of live bees and drive them back to Austin. Yes, they were in the cab of the car with me and my support dog. It was an enjoyable trip. I even enjoyed the walk in the bee chaos of hive splitting and the exchange with the employees at the commercial apiary hubs bought the bees from. Back at the Austin Homestead, I was able to carry the live bees into The Sandbox without incident. Their buzz was quite frantic when I did so. Being stuffed into commercial bee packages is not a natural event for them. I was able to calm them with some spray from the rainwater bottle I keep for the plant shelves.
The bee packages are still on the table between the grow shelves and the essential oil distillation desk. We've been talking. Bees are not very talkative before dawn. Makes for a very calm exposure therapy for me.
Just an update. . . Works in progress. . .
Hubs is the beekeeper. My entry into the biz was thwarted by the dramas connected to moving the apiary off the Father-in-law's investment property in the Brazos Valley. Discovering I had acquired the beekeeper's allergy (very different from the common allergy) further complicated my hive involvement. I am still suffering panic attacks when I see bees. Still not trusting the Epi-pen research which prevails in the medical dogma.
During my years of scouting watersheds, bees are and always have been my most trusted guides to the best plant communities. I consider them Nature's authorities on those edible plants hidden deep in the "Weed patches." Me and bees go back to when my presence in my cherished watersheds was developed of the need to hide from family perverts. Herstorically, I have had more allergic reaction to mosquito bites than bee stings. Losing my place in hubby's hobby hasn't affected me as much as acquiring a fear of my most trusted watershed guides.
I am in the midst of some exposure therapy on that score. Hubs is increasing his hives this month. 'Tis the season. He is also getting gang-banged at his paying gig. 'Tis the season for that, too. Yesterday I did him the favor of driving to the Brazos Valley (about 90 miles) to pick up 2 packages of live bees and drive them back to Austin. Yes, they were in the cab of the car with me and my support dog. It was an enjoyable trip. I even enjoyed the walk in the bee chaos of hive splitting and the exchange with the employees at the commercial apiary hubs bought the bees from. Back at the Austin Homestead, I was able to carry the live bees into The Sandbox without incident. Their buzz was quite frantic when I did so. Being stuffed into commercial bee packages is not a natural event for them. I was able to calm them with some spray from the rainwater bottle I keep for the plant shelves.
The bee packages are still on the table between the grow shelves and the essential oil distillation desk. We've been talking. Bees are not very talkative before dawn. Makes for a very calm exposure therapy for me.
Just an update. . . Works in progress. . .
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I haven't written in my diary on my computer since May because I thought that my computer was dying. I got away from writing but my computer is hanging in there. I think that I will start writing in it again. It's so therapeutic.
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First, I hope everyone is doing well, and continuing to fight that good fight! Keep up the great work on yourselves; I'm rooting for all of you!So, I started doing therapy at the beginning of the year, when I was in my most depressed state, but with my therapist, I made big changes and steps in the right direction. But, over a month ago, she couldn't take my insurance anymore, and I had to stop...
I'm glad you can be around your bees. :-) One buzz at a time.
Mine to sort is to reclaim the life long relationship I have had with bees. I never did worry much about the bee condos in those days. We were weedy working partners. Different corporate structure, entirely.
For sure, humans don't much like the treated water spritzes. I wouldn't waste my rainwater on them. My rainwater reserves deplete too easily for entertainment uses.
I am not all the way sure what you mean by, "rural pursuits," looney, but don't under estimate the amount of natural growth that can happen on a windowsill or an apartment wall.
I live in an urban neighborhood. My half acre lot is big for a Boom Town, but it is still very urban. There are rumors afloat that Austin's "Music City" fame may soon be replaced by a tag related to our . ? . ? . the movement is not quite developed enough for a standardized logo yet, but it is quite tied to it's old hippie migrants who settled here in the 70s. Damned immigrants. . .
But the movement is far, far from just Austin. It is connected to urban blight centers world wide which are being "bio-remediated" and turned into urban agriculture centers.
"Urban Agriculture" is a the name contender I am voting for this election year, but. . . Each of the candidates has its charms.
My read of the day, if you want to read along. http://www.urbanfarming.org/
Another term which is gaining some cohesion in the urban agriculture arena is, "Vertical Farming." It is a fave among folks who are remediating abandoned factories. I am still trying to master the "living wall."
If I was retired I might do more too. Everyone says it is so good for you