Sticky fingered impostors

Copy editors are afflicted with the irresistible habit of copy editing everything they read. I have a hard time reading Hemingway because of his inadequate use of the comma, for example. I laugh outloud at the extraneous use of quotation marks. (if you do to, you must visit this Web site.) I inspect the food labels when I'm standing in the kitchen, which lead me this morning to a horrendous find. The honey Ian bought at H-E-B last time is called "Texas Honey Blend" and is mostly made from, not the beloved nectar of the Earth, but high fructose corn syrup. The nectar of Coca-Cola and caramel coloring mixed with a little bit of honey. I was lead to the ingredients by a claim on the front label. "A delicious mild honey taste!" Wha? Who wants a mild honey taste? Isn't that kind of like olive oil companies marketing those brands with a mild olive oil flavor? I'm so very confused. If you don't want an olive oil taste, use vegetable oil. If you don't want a honey taste, use sugar for God's sake. If you're worried about getting fat, stop drinking sodas before you cut back on honey.

The worst part about impostor honey is the packaging. It's in a small plastic bear with a yellow top! Oh, the inhumanity!

All of this lead me to the closest thing to a Web page for Kelley Honey Farms (P.O. Box 45, Chicota, TX 75425 if you are riled up enough to write them personally), titled "Donkeys We Have Sold and Some of Their Stories These little donkeys have moved to their new homes and are enjoying donkey hugs". Apparently these guys, the farmers, not the donkeys, really love them some Kelley Farm honey. And on the flip side, on a site called the BeeSource Forums, I found this discussion about the impostor honey. Remember the maple syrup, some posters lamented. I certainly hope honey is not en route to the fake sugarfication of syrup as we know it.

Anyway, all this honey thinking takes me back...

I had a great uncle who was a beekeeper. Lee Handy was married to my dad's mom/grandma's sister Mary, who was also the sister of Aunt Pud, for those of you out there familiar with her. Lee and Mary had a restaurant in downtown Branson, Mo., for years and years. My dad worked there as a kid, back before Branson became what it is now. Lee and Mary were workers, boy. Always were. Lee farmed honey until probably the year before he died, maybe 7 years ago.

When I was a kid in Aurora, we would take monthly trips to Branson to visit Grandma Joyce, Uncle Bob and Aunt Pud, who all lived together in Branson, and Uncle Lee and Aunt Mary, who lived in Hollister, just on the other side of Lake Taneycomo. Lee and Mary had this giant vat of honey in their kitchen. A 3 gallon barrel, at the least, with a spout at the end. I can remember eating honey until I was sick in that kitchen. Chelsea and I licking our fingers, while Mom and Dad sat 'round the kitchen table and drank coffee with the two of them. I dreamt as a kid of owning that property and spending all my time gardening and making trails through the woods. I still dream of that sometimes. And the thing is, you could buy a house like that on land like that, in a land far far away from here, for what you'd pay for a 700-square-foot apartment in downtown Austin. ...

Ah gez, the life of a beekeeper. Put it on the wouldn't-it-be-cool-to-be list along with campground manager and museum docent.

I just hope Uncle Lee didn't catch wind of this fake honey businezz.