Meet my REAL honey!!!!!!!!!!

Yesterday my friend and I drove to La Junta to buy our tickets for the Amtrak train that would take us to Dallas, Texas next month.  Both of her grandfather's were railroad men back in the day when the rail way was the way to move freight.  The office is only open from 7:30 AM until 10 AM so we were on a mission.  This is the ticket window and the lady in charge was the sweetest little thing and a great help to us.  However we soon found that this was not going to be as easy as it first looked.

The train does not run from here to Dallas.  It runs from La Junta to Kansas City, down to St. Louis and then     down to Fort Worth  area where we could catch a bus on into Dallas.  Oh and this takes 2 days.  There are several 5 hour delays for another train to arrive to take us further on our way.  Now spending 5-6 hours in a train depot is just not on my agenda.  And no where in this scenario did I see any hope of putting this body into a bed  and sleeping the 8 hours I require.  Of course we could take the southern route through southern California and it would add a few hours.  Sadly the lower level has the restrooms and the upper level has the food.  Screwed either way as I see it.  Oh, yeah and then there was the cost of the tickets. $715.00 each.  So $1430.00 and no food included.  Let's just think this over.  Course Nancy is all for hopping on an airplane and arriving in Dallas in no time at all.   Well, it is a thought.  Or we could ride the train to Albuquerque and then rent a car and drive to Dallas.  So we headed home to think on it.

I missed a call outside of Rocky Ford, so I pulled over to return it and up the train track came the train hauling the propeller's for the wind turbines from Pueblo.  Had to get a picture of that.  We are both fascinated by those things. 

 

Well, lookee here, where we stopped!  Since we were right in the parking lot and the sign said "Local Honey.  Come on in!"  We did!

Bet money there is something in here I need!

Look at the size of the honey tank.  I think we figured it holds at least 400 gallons.  Hell, that was yesterday and you know I don't write anything down!  And if I do I do not remember where I put it.  So just go with the 400 gallons like you believe me!

And I was right.  There was stuff there I needed.  Nancy needed stuff also.  Oh, and trust me, this is some damn good honey!  First I had a taste on my finger.  Then I had a taste on a spoon.  Then I had a big taste on a biscuit.  Then another biscuit.  

Nice sign.

Nice flags.

But this is the one I like.  It is a nest from somewhere made by bees and I think they call it a paper wasp nest.  Glad it is empty!

So, we bid farewell to the local honey place on this side of Rocky Ford and  head for home so I can do whatever it is I do.  

Had a lovely day, as always and enjoyed a nice lunch in Fowler before dropping Nancy and heading for the grocery store to seek out Celery Root so I can make some Dill Pickle soup.  Tell you about that one next time!

Oh, no! Can it beeeeeeeeeee?

Looks pretty harmless, doesn't it?  Well it is not!  There are bees there and they are very mean bees.  The other day I popped over there to drop off a couple boxes.  First box delivered and on the way back to the car a bee stung me on the ankle.  I grabbed the second box and hurried inside.  Bee bite on  the way up the step.  Dropped the box inside, pulled the door shut, turned the key and another on the way to the car.  By this time I was in pain.  Those damn things hurt!  Luckily I always have my big container of ice water so I fished out an ice cube and rubbed the two on my leg that hurt the worst.  The one on my arm wasn't that bad. 
After a trip to the dermatologist, I drove back over to asses the situation.  Bees were every where and it seemed they were concentrated at the front porch and in the evergreens.  So I came home and started calling exterminators.  Well, let me tell you now, that is what my mother always called an exercise in futility!  The one company who actually had an opinion as to how to do this was quite clear on two things.  The nest in the front would cost $160 to remove and the one in the back would be an additional $45.  That was well and good, but I can not see a nest in the front or back.  Well, that is a problem then cause we can not move it if we can not see it.  Hell, if I could see it, I could move it!
Now you all know that I am a kind hearted woman and I do not hurt anything, man or beast, but me and those bees are going to come to a n understanding of some kind!  I do not like to kill bees, but by the same token, I do not like to be stung by them.  So here is the deal:
I know a lot of you out there have similar ideas.  If you have any idea how I could possibly get them to leave quietly, or at least stay away from me, I would love to hear them.  There is a comment place down there where you can click and get a thing to write on and tell me what to do.  Or email me at loumercer3@aol.com
We have a sale coming up at this house in a couple weeks and killer bees dive bombing our customers is not going to be good. I googled this and some where it said the safe and natural way to destroy them is spray with soapy water.  But, there you go killing them.  And if that does not work there are going to be some pissed off bees after me again.  As mad as they were the other day, I do not want to further ruffle thier fur, so to speak.
So I shall anxiously await any suggestions  any of you might possibly have to clear up this little wrinkle in my world.
 VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains