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I Hate Bees

October 5, 2010

This past weekend was my maiden voyage to the Schenectady Greenmarket.  For those who are unfamiliar with the institution, it’s the four-season farmers market for those in the western half of the Capital Region.  It’s still outdoors, and I have to say that Sunday was a lovely fall day to be strolling around the market.  Except of course for one thing.

I hate bees.

For some reason the air was full of them on Sunday.  To make matters worse, it was just me and Little Miss Fussy, and she wanted juice.  It turns out bees love warm apple cider.  But you probably knew that.

I was doing my best to try and be brave.

There is absolutely no way an objective observer would read my behavior this way.  A bee would come close and I’d squinch up my eyes and face while pursing my lips.  My entire body would tighten up, and when the buzzing bee flew out of range I found my shoulders up at the level of my ears.  But for the most part, I was good at keeping pretty still, if maybe not so brave.

My bravest moments were when the bee was buzzing around my hand that was holding the cider.  That bee kept on bumping it’s fuzzy little body against my fingers, the ones that were clenching the Styrofoam cup tighter and tighter as LMF and I walked faster and faster.  Ultimately one of the bees met its end as it drowned in the sweet nectar it so desired.

LMF was beside herself at the notion we might have to toss the juice now that some suicidal bee was floating dead on its surface.  I just wanted her to be finished and get the hell out of there.

The bees mind you were also flying all around her.  I haven’t quite figured out how to make sure a small child doesn’t reflexively swat at the bees.  She’s never been stung, and God forbid we were all the way out in Schenectady and she started to have an allergic reaction to a sting.  Eek.  

So part of my stroll around the market involved me picking up the little lady and spinning around with her as to elude the bees that otherwise might get too close to her grabby little hands.

What I saw of the market was delightful.  But I have to admit, I’m looking forward to when they move inside.  Although presumably once they are indoors, that magnificent smell of sausages cooking on a charcoal grill will be absent.  I wonder if the ice-cream maker will brave the winter cold—the Capital Region isn’t a four-season ice cream market like Boston or Burlington.  Clearly the bounty of the harvest will fade, but I did spy some mighty tasty looking tubers from Barber’s Farm which hopefully be available for a while.

Luckily, Sunday mornings are finding me out in Schenectady these days, so it looks like I’ll have plenty of opportunities to explore.  The big question will be how long will it take for my family to consume the forty pound winter storage box of root vegetables we get from the CSA at the end of the season.

The worst part about this CSA so far has been not being able to justify buying produce at farmers markets.  Well, that and dealing with Mrs. Fussy’s agita about all the vegetables in the fridge that are going bad.  Honestly, I imagine we do a better job than most.  But we take waste very seriously here.

Probably too seriously.  But that’s another story.

7 Comments leave one →
  1. phairhead permalink
    October 5, 2010 9:04 am

    YEAH!!!! Sch’dy Farmer’s Market :D did you try the vegan dip? NOM NOM OM

  2. October 5, 2010 10:15 am

    We purposely skipped the fruit and egg share from our CSA so we would have a reason to go to the Greenmarket.

    Oh, and the cheese. Painted Goat cheese from the caves. Srsly.

  3. StanfordSteph permalink
    October 5, 2010 12:22 pm

    First, congratulations! Second, that’s the market I go to since I moved to Glenville. Hopefully I’ll get to see you there one of these Sundays. :) I agree about the Painted Goat cheese.

  4. StanfordSteph permalink
    October 5, 2010 12:24 pm

    Shoot, that’s a typo. No way to delete or edit I suppose?

  5. October 5, 2010 8:04 pm

    true story: last year i was at bowman orchards with my family. as you found out on the tour, they now sell their cider donuts pre-packaged-up – i guess to keep up with the crazy throngs of people coming through. (i dearly miss the days when there was a crumpled little white bag filled with soft, fresh, steaming-hot donuts waiting for you at the end of that line). anywho, i “took charge” of carrying the 6-pack of donuts around the place (i just have a hard time sharing cider donuts, i want them all to myself)…we were in the vicinity of the goats/corn maze when i felt something brush against my hand — i looked –i saw a blur of yellow & black — i SCREAMED! — i shook my hand violently — the donuts flew and crashed down onto the mucky, manure-trampled ground. when i opened my eyes i saw donuts strewn about and an empty plastic container laying nearby. IT WAS A BEE! i was shaken up. my family was angry. we’d waited 45 minutes in line (plus one calendar year) for those donuts. i won’t say i didnt gather up the remains and place them back into their container as if nothing had happened. we promptly went home.

  6. bonnie kohn permalink
    October 5, 2010 9:35 pm

    I can say that I understand being afraid of bees but what I can’t understand is being afraid of being stung way out in Schenectady. We do have medical care way out here too. And the Greenmarket is every bit as wonderful indoors so don’t miss it!

  7. October 10, 2010 3:42 pm

    here’s my experience with bumblebees ;)
    http://munzee72.wordpress.com/2010/09/06/my-very-own-terrorists/

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