Life is never dull when your husband is a constant source of amazement, amusement, and surprise.

Hubby proposed two weeks after we met.

On a Sunday six years later, we were driving around with friends checking out new homes. That is the only kind of window shopping which appeals to yours truly. Most people do not buy a house after a quick walk-through. The entire afternoon was meant to be a caper. It was an inexpensive and fun way to pass a Sunday afternoon. Or so we thought.

We walked in the front door. Hubby looked to his right and then his left. “There is your formal dining room and your living.” Then he strolled into the family room/kitchen and his eyes lit up.

The house had an atrium patio with doors leading to it from the kitchen, the family room, and the master bedroom. Surrounded by the house, the patio was a haven which led to the standard suburban backyard. The patio sold that house.

Before long, the house became ours for the next twenty-five plus years. After five years of marriage, we had both given up on having children. Then the impossible happened. All it took was buying a house with all that such a purchase entailed.

Since Hubby grew up in the country, he wanted to leave the city and buy land. But the children were entangled in school and sundry other activities, and it was never a good time to reach for that dream. But when our replacements headed south for opposing universities, Hubby renewed his search.

We looked at properties all over North Texas, with and without houses on them, but none were THE ONE. Until one day he wanted me to see a house he found.

It was close to everything we could have imagined and wanted. Acres of land, bookcases in every room, except the bathrooms. A five-acre stocked lake ready for Hubby to go fishing whenever the spirit moved him. And once again, we came, we liked, and we bought the place.

The next bee in his cowboy hat was growing a vegetable garden. This city girl knew nothing about freezing or canning foods and was not planning on becoming a farmer. As I told Hubby countless times, I am a country squire and not a farmer. Did he listen?

Soon I was lugging extra produce to work. Just call me the produce burro.

It was hardly a surprise when he decided to raise chickens. Hubby built a reinforced chicken coop, and we ordered twenty-something baby chicks. But he is a man of action and bought ten random chicks to tide him over until the rest arrived.

Was Hubby satisfied with an out-of-control and over-productive garden and all those bloody chickens? Nope.

While working on my next novel one evening, Hubby rushed into my home office. “Go on the internet and find out everything you can about raising bees.” It seems that Hubby found two hives near the house. He was going to be a beekeeper.

After research online and consulting beekeepers, we learned it was expensive and not without risk. Although beekeepers develop a bee sting immunity of sorts, they can still be stung, develop a high fever and other fun things. Plus several of us are allergic to such stings. Did I want to come home from work and find him on the ground covered with bees? No!

Making a case for removing the bees was tricky, but he eventually agreed. A beekeeper has spent the better part of the weekend trying to capture the bees. Not an easy task while the unhappy critters dive bombed us.

When the beekeeper uses the smoker, the bees think there is a fire, and they gorge on the collected honey to save as much as they can. The combination of the gorgy and the smoke makes for a happy high if you are a bee. Eventually, the beekeeper captured and moved most of the bees.

We gained two pints of yummy bee pollen (thin honey), and Hubby decided to forego his beekeeping scheme.

Cannot wait to see what he does next.










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