I don't know that I have a bee story. I have been eyeing the kit, but Big Boy broke his arm and had his tonsils out 2 weeks ago. So all the money is going to the doctors! No pity though, I have lots of yarn.
The only bee related story I have is teaching my boys their animals and the sounds. My Baby Boy looks so cute going "buzz buzz". Melts my heart every time!

Hi, Tina sent me to the blog specifically to see the Oregon Red Clover Honey color BECAUSE I told her I wanted to knit this shawl! My favorite bee story: we once bought a house that came with honeybees. Actually, it came with honeybee equipment and I had to go out and buy bees which came in the mail. (a story all in itself). In the winter, if it gets warm out, the bees come out of the hive to poop, otherwise they stay inside and hold it. I was checking activity one warm winter day and one of the bees was in a particularly bad mood about me bee-ing there. He took out after me and I ran as fast as I could for about three blocks with him in hot pursuit. I stopped to catch my breath, and he got me, right by my eye. The entire eye socket swelled up the size of a tennis ball. And this, the day before we left to visit inlaws for Christmas. Had to explain to everyone that I'ld been chased and stung by a bee. Of course, no one believed me. They all insisted that bees are never out in the dead of winter. Christmas morning pictures from that year are a hoot to look at now.

Anyway, love your knitting and can't wait to see your Bee Fields!

Bee story, huh?
My hubby, myself, and 5 kids got home from church one Sunday with our Arby's takeout. We sat outside at the table, where much whining ensued. You see, there were lots of bees outside. The bees weren't bothering me, but finally the whining got the best of me. We all gathered up our food and went inside. I sat down at the table, and immediatly went flying back up. A bee had flown up my dress and stung me right in my left cheek!!! I couldn't sit on it for days. Would you like some wine with your bee???

That honey color is gorgeous. It looks like honey on a string. I wish I had a humorous bee story but I am of the alleric variety. I carry an epi pen with me and have to annually remind my coworkers that should I get stung they get to jab me with a needle. They are surprisingly ok with this. My family likes to sing "swell up and die" to the tune of Beethoven's Fifth when the subject of bees comes up. That doesn't stop me from admiring the beauty that is inherent in honeycomb and the lovely amber colors they produce.

I doubt this will be prize winner, but my bee story goes like this. I was sitting in my parent's house talking to my friends on the phone. Where my parents live, there are lots of pig farmers (one of the reasons I don't live there anymore), and therefore, lots of flies. The flies get my nerves, so I was always trying to squash them. So I'm talking on the phone and I felt a crawling sensation on my hand. Without looking, I quickly made a fist, and actually felt happy for a second that I caught this one. That happiness didn't last long, because my hand immediately started to hurt like crazy. You guessed it, that wasn't a fly, it was a BEE. Ouch!

Hee! It's such beautiful yarn! Perfect for the shawl.

Bees. All I can think of is Dane Cook and his bee rant ("Who gets killed by bees???") But then that makes me think of My Girl and how terrified of bees that movie made me (I've never been stung.) And then I think of how this guy Shane at my high school used to get honeycomb from a friend of his whose dad ran a beehive or bee farm or whatever...MAN that stuff is good when it's doused in honey. And now I want a peanut butter and honey sandwich......

I have a bee story from just a few weeks ago: I have a bunch of wild sunflowers growing in my yard. I was watching all the bugs and birds and was mesmerized by this bee. I kept going closer and closer because it was this big giant bumblebee and it was so neat looking. When I was about a foot away, the bee slowly started to fly away and came toward me. I always stay very still around the bees. It moved so close to me I thought it was going to sit on my face or hair and I'm sure my eyes were crossed, but it just flew over to the next flower. Close encounter!

Here's my bee story: My grandfather raised bees and we always had free honey, by the gallons, by the multi-gallons, honey and comb and more honey coming out your ears. My other non-bee raising grandfather always ate Sue Bee Spun Honey, a store bought commodity. I would beg for Sue Bee Honey to no end and eventually my poor mother, in a house that was overrun by free honey, would go down to the store and get the store bought honey. Now I really miss the gallon jugs of honey with fresh comb sitting on the shelves of our pantry. I grit my teeth and pay big bucks for home raised honey. It all comes around.
And I have to say, our home honey was the same golden color when the sun would hit those jugs in just the right angle as your beautiful yarn. It truely brought back a wonderful memory of honey in days gone by.

My "favorite" (a.k.a. most painful)and VERY TRUE Bee Story. I was trying to "stay pregnant" - always a challenge for me. It involved many daily self administered injections for the first 2 trimesters - PLUS - 2 bloodtests per week - AND I have very "hard to find my veins" kinda of arms. I had been going through this for a loooong time. Getting STUCK on a regular basis. On this day I was SO hoping to still be pregnant - I was on my way to the Dr. for the "heartbeat sonogram". I got into my car and said a little prayer "If I am, give me a sign so I can just have some amount of comfort" - turned the key and put it in gear as I sat back in the seat - AND WAS PROMPTLY STUNG IN MY UPPER BACK BY 2 BEES THAT WERE SOMEHOW IN MY CAR!!!!! It hurt SOOOOO much - tears flowing I raced to the Dr. - she gave me ice and calmed me down...and then we listened to the heartbeat! And she said "I guess those bee stings were telling you that there were a lot more injections coming your way!" - Her name is Sophia and she is 6 years old now...
TRUE STORY!

I can't believe you are giving away that luscious yarn! I'm so glad the contest is random - my only bee stories are pretty mundane. All I can think of is when I was about 7 I stepped on a bee - the beach my grandparents took me to had a large lawn, and at the bottom of the lawn ran a sidewalk with steps down to the beach. I played a lot on the lawn - and of course there were bees in the clover. After that, I was very careful to watch where I was stepping! The only other thing I can think of is the other day I was watching bees in some flowers near where I was sitting. A bee landed on my shirt and I got to watch him for a while. We blew gently on it and it flew off. For a little while this spring, we kept seeing bees just stopped on our window or railing for days, like they were dead, but they didn't look squished and they didn't fall off. Weird.

You wonderful woman you! A contest with the very most specialest prizes! OK bee story, short and sweet (no pun intended): When my 16 yr old was 3, she was stung by a bee square in the middle tip of her nose. It happened very fast and seeing it land on her and watching her eyes cross as she was stung cracked me up. Yep. I was hysterical and trying hard to hide it as I administered first aid. Great mom huh?

This isn't really a "story," but the bzzing of bees puts me to sleep instantly. As in, if I go outside to sit in the summer and several bees are floating pleasantly around, I wake up two hours later, groggy and with yuck in my mouth. They've never stung me either. I have a very soft spot for bees (though please don't sting it!)

Also, have you read the Beekeeper's Apprentice? It's an excellent sherlock holmes novel, and bees come up in the very first chapter!

Bee story? Here you go:

I was 5 years old and had just started kindergarten. Innocent, cute, pigtails, navy blue and red plaid jumper, little white t-shirt, and a bright red cardigan that my grandmother had knit for me. My little red sweater was hanging on a hook in the coat room all day. When we were getting ready to go home, I reached for my sweater, slid my left arm into the sleeve and - WHAM - BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ - OUCH! Big 'Ole Bumblee hiding in the sleeve. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It's the reason why I will still scream like a little girl and run the other way when I see fat, fuzzy bumble bees.

Despite my fear of bees, I

oh honey honey! My secret is to use it pretty much as a sugar replacement. Your banana muffins, ham glazes and tea will never bee as sweet and golden brown

I have only one bee experience - I was stung exactly once in my life, while swimming. I'd gone some laps and was leaning on the lane separators, talking to someone in the next lane who'd also finished, and a bee zapped my arm! I always have thought it was ironic that with all the bug collecting I did as a kid, I had to go in the water to get stung.

I have a bee story for you. My 14, almost 15 year old daughter was stung by a bee just last week. I am not exaggerating when I say that for no less than 6 HOURS the girl cried and moaned and whimpered and cried (loudly) some more. She claimed it was the worst pain she has ever experienced. She also happens to be a major drama queen. :)

I had a splitting headache by the time the crying finally stopped. Oy!

Ok... bad bee story...

One time, my brother was casually walking down the driveway when a bee flew into his ear... and got stuck there. He had to go to the hospital and got stung a lot in his ear... it was bad.

Oh, wow. The colors on that yarn are GORGEOUS!! Two bee stories. Years ago, when my now-husband and I were dating in college, I went to study abroad. We'd decided to meet halfway through the semester and go to Barcelona together. So there we were, supposed to be having this great weekend before we wouldn't see each other again for who knew how long, and it was horrible! The city was under construction because the Olympics were coming, so everything was closed or blocked, or scaffolded. It rained the whole time. We had not idea how to order food there, and were constantly hungry. And there came a point when we were sitting on the beach in the rain, and we'd decided to break up because we weren't sure whether he'd still be living in L.A. when I got home. And then, out of nowhere, a bee came up and stung me, completely at random, right on the neck, whereupon I swelled up like a balloon. Talk about messages from the universe! But, we got back together 15 minutes later, and have been for the past 18 years.

The other bee story I have is about a friend of mine who got up very early one morning before work to walk her dog (before 6 o'clock), and was accosted in the park by a reporter who wanted to know what she thought about killer bees for the morning news (?!). So there she was, in a hat and sweats, clutching her coffee like a life preserver, and all she could think of to say was, "I can think of better ways to die." And they put her on the news!

Thanks for thinking of us :)

In the year when I was 6 the summer was particularly humugity. One afternoon in August my father and grandfather were taking a water break on the porch. My grandfather was on the swing when a humungous bumblebee landed on his arm. I learned a lesson that day -- if a bumblebee lands on you, just sit quietly, even if it stays for 25 minutes like that one did that day. The bee won't sting you.(Tickle, maybe, but no sting!)

Oooh! That shawl is so pretty and both yarns you have are wonderful. Thank you for holding this nifty contest. I have enjoyed reading the bee stories. I can think of a few, as well as a naughty joke that involves bees. My entry will be a bee story. It was the church picnic. I was peering through the mesh of the pie tent while the judges made the rounds. As I reached the back, I felt pain. At first I thought it was a mosquito, as it had not gotten me well. I swatted and was stung two more times, the third time being the one which left me with an embedded stinger. The rest of the picnic was not so much fun. I do not even think I got to have a piece of pie, but was left on the blanket with ice packs.

can't wait to see this shawl come alive for you! my bee story is just that i love bees- the big, fat bumbly-bees. every time i see one i stop what i'm doing and watch it up close as long as i can. they are just some of the most amazing creatures and really inspire me. pooh bear and honey pots, birds & bees :)- they are just fun to watch. oh yeah- i just rememebred a real story! over every summer i get about 10-12 random bugs that fly directly into my face. i can't understand this, because they have about 800 facets to each eye and i'm a gazillion times larger than they are, but whatever. last summer when i was working at girl scout camp a huge bumblebee flew into my face. i didn't know what it was and shooed it away. i was very happy that it was in a good mood and didn't sting me. maybe it's a mutual appreciation? i can only hope.

As you know I don't need the kit but I have a bee story, sorta. Smith grew up in an old 'farm house'. One summer they heard a constant hum in the walls and realized what was up when they saw honey dripping from a crack. They had to have the house exterminated to get rid of the bees (so sad!) and could smell the honey for some time to come.

I was always interested in why it's called a "honeymoon", so here is a little fun fact I googled:
The word "honeymoon" has its origins in the European tradition of a newlywed couple drinking honeyed wine (mead) each day for the first Moon (month) of their marriage, inferring that the first phase would be sweeter than the rest.

The honey color is gorgeous!

Bee story: I'm not allergic to bee stings, per se, but I do have a reaction. While in the Cascades for a geology field season, I apparently swung my rock hammer and managed to make a bee/wasp angry. It got me on the leg and I didn't notice it until I got back to camp. My left thigh had swollen to the point where I looked like I only did squats/leg lifts on one side (it looked rather like a sad imitation of an Arnold-Schwarzenegger-type leg). I looked a bit unbalanced, and it lasted a week! I left geology shortly after and turned to the (somewhat) safer field of literature...

My last name is Bienenfeld...which translates to "Bees in the Field." I have bees in my blood!

When I was a little girl, we were at a family reunion at the park. I never wore shoes (still don't) and thus was running around barefoot! I stepped on a bee! My Dad, the clever man he is, immediately got some mud and packed it on my bee sting. It drew out the stinger and the venom! That is what I do now with my kids! Works like a charm!

Oh, and I love that yarn and pattern. Just beautiful!

Wow, that is gorgeous yarn! I agree with your analysis of the yarn, too...Tina certainly managed to get the full range of colors in honey! Yum! Anyway, my favorite bee story is from my third grade days when my entire class and the music department put on the play "Goin' Buggy." I was chosen to be the honeybee narrator (I had to audition and everything...I can still remember the nerves I felt while sitting there and waiting for my turn to read the lines!) and got to say a few lines including
"None of your beeswax!" I felt so important saying my own lines and wearing my little bee costume...So, it's not a memory about a real bee, but it is the first thing that I think about when I think of bees and that memory still makes me smile! Thanks for the contest opportunity!

I too, have a recent bee story. Just this past Sunday, my four children and I were on our way home from church, windows down, music blasting, and bam! from nowhwere, a wasp(I think)stung me on the left side of my face. I screamed so violently, then swerved to get off the road. (After my 6 year old told me it was wrapped in my hair!) All of the kiddos started crying and screaming. I got home, put some ice on my face, took some benadryl. Unfortunately, the same evening I had to go to a wake for a dear friend. Besides going to the wake, the crappy part was, that I had not seen some of the people there in 16 years(including an ex!) Boy, as the day went on, my face swelled, so I was almost unrecognizable! Then by the end of the evening, my eye was swollen shut! Many didn't know who I was! I did go to the docs on Monday, only to find out there wasn't much I could do, but wait. Only today, Friday, my face is somewhat normal! Even as I write this, I get chills up my spine thinking of the "bee"! Can't wait to see your finished bee, I bet it will be a real "stinger"!

I love the Oregon Red Clover Honey. Gorgeous.

Here's my weird bee story. My father in law loves propolis, a bee product with antiseptic properties. He treats every possible ailment with homemade tincture, which he makes with vodka and propolis he smuggles illegally from Eastern Europe. Whenever he goes home, he comes back with his pockets filled with the stuff. According to him: (imagine a mild Slovak accent if you can) "if a mouse enters a beehive, the bees will immediately sting it to death. Because it is too big to remove, they will encase its body in propolis. This will perfectly preserve the mouse, preventing it from infecting the hive." I don't think this is true, but I like the tincture.

When I was still very young, we moved from Canada to the U.S. And all those people who say that Canada is just America with a C? They're so, so very wrong. It smells different there. The same products taste different when they're from there (and the beer is better, too!). The angle of the sun feels different, I just can't describe it. Anyway, once we moved to the U.S., sometimes when we would go back to Canada to visit my grandparents, mom would go to the store and get a few things to take back home with us. These were special treats-- Maypo, CoffeeCrisp, Beep, stuff like that.

I still remember one summer morning, coming down for breakfast after a weekend when we had visited my grandparents, and my brothers and I sat down to have toast. And we were all thrilled when mom put a (wooden) box of honeycomb down! She had gotten it from a farm stand in Tecumseh, where she went to get tomatoes. We could have eaten it all in one sitting if she had let us. It was so neat to wipe our knives across the comb, watching the cells break open and the honey pour out, and spreading it all on our buttery toast. Then eating the sticky sweetness, and savouring the slightly chewy clumps of waxy comb. And the best part, it tasted like Canada. I can still see every detail. And I was, maybe 6? 7? In my mind, I can still smell the buttery toast and the cloying sweetness of the honeycomb. *Sigh*

Beautiful yarn and pattern. The color is gorgeous. The bee stories are all great. My bee story: When my dear Sheltie, Tiffany, was a puppy, she loved to follow me around in the garden. She'd get very close to the flowers as if taking a sniff. When she noticed the bees in the garden, she tried catching them with her mouth as they'd alight from the flowers. One afternoon, she stuck her nose too close to a bloom and was stung on the tip of her nose. Did it swell!!! The vet advised 1/2 aspirin, she was fine in a day or two. She never could leave the bees alone though, even after getting stung!

Beautiful stuff! I love, love honey -- the smell, taste, color, texture. Here's my bee story: I once worked with a woman who was a beekeeper, and she ordered her bees through the mail! I was amazed to learn this. Sometimes she would order a new queen and it just came in a little box, but sometimes she would order a large amount of bees. Needless to say, the post office called her IMMEDIATELY when they received these shipments, and she had to drop everything and go pick them up. I love the idea of beekeeping (although I am deathly afraid of stinging creatures), and bees are so important and currently in crisis. The Bee Fields Shawl is a well-deserved tribute!

The Oregon Red Clover is amazing - absolutely spot on.

My favorite (ie only) bee story is the only time I've been stung. I was living in Oregon for the summer and had been planning on going camping with the guy I was dating and 2 friends who had come to visit. I went to a party the night before, and so was hungover when we set out. Add to the mix there had been some friction between me and my ex regarding the fact I was dating to someone, and I was literally not a happy camper. The group shot of us from that trip shows me leaning as far from the boy as possible :) When we were done enjoying nature and hiking back out, I saw a small black streak zoom towards my arm and I was stung. All the frustration of the weekend boiled up and I started crying about how much I hated camping as he tried to extract the sting.

Looking back, I'm amazed he didn't just turn around and leave me there :) And why I didn't just let go and enjoy the trip!

My name is Barbara, and my best friend's daughter has nicknamed me "Ant Bee". :)

I've been stung by a bee only ONCE in my entire life. I was... maybe 7 or 8 years old at the time. And do you know where the bee stung me??? On the upper eyelid of my left eye! Oh, I was a sight to behold for weeks, that much is for sure.

I remember my little brother asking if he could have the bee out of a new pot of honey when he was about four. He thought that if there was a peanut at the top of the peanut butter there should be a bee at the top of the honey for peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

My grandfather has a hive of honeybees in one of his oak trees this year. It's great for the gardens of everyone in the neighborhood (he no longer has a garden himself), and I'm delighted he has let it stay put given the mysterious (and frightening) disappearance of many honeybees across North America in the last couple of years.

Also, I knit my son a bee costume for Halloween when he was a year old. Should I win this kit, I'll try to find a photo I can share of that along with a photo of the finished Bee Fields shawl. My, but that's a beautiful pattern.

They say clothes hung to dry on the clothesline are the best? My mom used to hang out ALL of our clothes. One evening when I was about 10 I was getting ready for bed and slipping into a pair of flannel pjs when I felt something crawling around. I started screaming and jumping around. A bee was in my sleeve! It had been there all afternoon since my mom had folded the clothes from the line. It is hard to believe I didn't get stung! Can't wait to see your finished work! This color is perfect!

When Joseph was 2 or 3, he stepped on a bee and immediately lost his mind with the freaking out. My French pharmacist friend was visiting, and made me restrain Joseph (sitting in the adirondack chair) while he tweezed out the stinger, very calmly and professionally but very slowly, considering the screaming. Joseph. Was. A. Mess. When the stinger was out, I ran him over to the hammock to rock him. By the time I got to the hammock, he was ASLEEP.

My own near-bee story is about my grandpa, who was a stone mason (which is important to the story). I was around 8, swinging on the swingset, which was not well attached to the ground, so it bumped up and down if you swung high, which of course was the whole point of swinging. Unbeknownst to any of us, a city of wasps had built a nest in the steel tube at the top of the swingset, and they flew out, in their thousands, to attack the girl who was literally rocking their world. I ran shrieking into my grandparents' back door, in a cloud of wasps, who were stinging me like crazy. My grandpa, who never spoke unless necessary and didn't find it necessary to speak at this time, went out back, turned on the hose, and flushed the wasps out of the swingset (without the slightest concern for whether they would sting him or not, and they didn't). Then he mixed up a bucket of cement (always on hand), and trowelled in into the tube on both ends. I watched through the screen door, as my arms and neck swelled with stings. I have never felt so protected. "Do not mess with this girl, or you will be destroyed."

Having said ALL this, do not waste this lovely shawl kit on the likes of ME. I'm not there, yet! xoxo Kay

I have a Bee story I heard second hand involving my son (then 16) and my brother. They were at an SCA event in the wilds of California, sitting around a camp fire, hours away from civilization, when my son took a sip of his Dr. Pepper. When he discovered the lump in the soda he went to spit it out and was stung on the tongue by a bee. Luckily he is not allergic, although we didn't really know that till now because he had never been stung before. Well my son spit the bee out but the stinger was still in his tongue, so my brother in all his manly wisdom pulled it out with a handy pair of pliers he just happened to have lying around. Everything turned out fine, but my son won't drink soda from a can anymore when we are camping.
By the way I love your blog and I am so impressed with your photographing skills.

I have a Bee story I heard second hand involving my son (then 16) and my brother. They were at an SCA event in the wilds of California, sitting around a camp fire, hours away from civilization, when my son took a sip of his Dr. Pepper. When he discovered the lump in the soda he went to spit it out and was stung on the tongue by a bee. Luckily he is not allergic, although we didn't really know that till now because he had never been stung before. Well my son spit the bee out but the stinger was still in his tongue, so my brother in all his manly wisdom pulled it out with a handy pair of pliers he just happened to have lying around. Everything turned out fine, but my son won't drink soda from a can anymore when we are camping.
By the way I love your blog and I am so impressed with your photographing skills.

you are always such an inspiration...and i love the bee stories.

here's mine--when my sister was a little girl she was spending the night with my grandparents. my nana always treated us to whatever we wanted...especially sweets. well, as you can imagine, my sis over did it and got a tummy ache. she ended up in bed early and had a fitful night of bad dreams, one of which was particularly vivid. as she tells it, she dreamed that she was getting a fancy dress hemmed and the seamstress kept sticking her while she was pinning it. when she woke up there were 2 dead bees in the bed. it's one of her clearest childhood memories.

I can't say that it's my favorite bee story, but it's probably my only bee story.

My daughter got her first bee sting when she was only 6 months old. My sister was holding her while she napped, and a little sweat bee stung Anna while they were sitting there. My sis was so worried that Anna would never forgive her!

My friends and I are big into theme parties. Way, way big. It's just not a party if there's not a ridiculous theme to accompany it, demanding creative costumes and hilarious intrepations -- last week, for example, my house hosted a Gay Pride party, and six of my friends showed up as the Gay Pride rainbow. Perfect, no?

Last year we had a "It's a Killer Party!" party -- where the theme was to come as your favorite killer. A guy put on a cow costume for Mad Cow, my friend William brought a box of cereal for a serial killer, etc. etc. -- but my favorite costume of the night had to be my friends Danny and Lauren, who showed up to the party as Killer Bees -- except that the costume store didn't have bee costumes, just lady bugs. So they showed up as killer ladybugs, with fake blood all over their faces and ninja stars. KILLER LADYBUGS!

Oh my *god* I am buying that BMFA yarn the instant I finish commenting here. Good lord, woman.

Bee story! Well, yellow-jackets, but close enough. I've never been stung, but my closest call came when I was about 8 or 9, playing "rock star band" on some old wood pallets out back with my younger brother and the neighbors. Andy was lead guitar, the neighbors were drums and keyboards (this was the 80s, remember), and I was the lead singer, complete with Aqua-Net hair. While we were jumping up and down and giving our own heartfelt rendition of "Back in Black", Andy somehow landed on a hidden yellowjacket's nest. I didn't notice what was going on for almost a minute, because our version of the song included a lot of screaming already, but after a few seconds everyone started running away, so I did too.

Andy, the comic from a young age, said I didn't get stung because lead singers have to be pretty. :)

My dad can't eat sugar, but can handle honey without a problem, so growing up I never realized that a lot of my mom's cooking was influenced by that, and so I had to try many foods over again with sugar and figure out which ones I liked which ways - not a bee story... but, it was interesting growing up with (big) buckets of honey always in the house!

...I also recently finished wing of moth, and look forward to doing this one too, I'll have to order it soonish if I don't win...

I used to play softball quite competitively, but my one downfall was that I was a slow runner. I was a pitcher, so I didn't have to do much running assuming I could really mess with a batter's mind and get them to strike out :oP One game, it happened to be at a national tournament, I had to bat because our designated hitter had a major injury from the last game. I got up to the plate, looked down, and there was a bumblebee on my leg.

I'm deathly afraid of bumblebees, although any other bee is fine with me. I saw the pitch come and it was the perfect thing to hit, so I swung, half looking at the ball, half at the bee. I hit the ball, but my bat during my follow through knicked the bee. The bee, who was not happy about this, was doing a good job of chasing me down the first base line. I ran faster than I think I had ever run and actually made it to first before the ball got there. The darned bee ended up stinging me, which sucks, but my team from that day forward would make a buzzing noise whenever I had to bat, hoping that it would make me run faster :oP

When my son was about 3 we were at the swimming pool and he somehow put his arm down on a bee, not the bumble bee type .. the skinnier ones. Anyway, he howled and as I ran over to see what was up he stood up and began marching around the pool saying "Damned bee BIT me!!" about 50 times. The entire pool group were dying laughing. Only bee story I know..and I LOVE the pattern and the yarn both. Don't know how you could have one witout the other...

My favorite bee story is about my youngest daughter. She is 5 and very petite for her age. Everyone always assumes she is maybe 3... Last year she started ballet and during her ballet recital they did a dance where all the girls were bees. It was so adorable! And so funny to see all these little girls buzzing around the stage...Of course, my little bumblebee was the most adorable :)

When I was little, I was was was known as pretty spunky. I'd climb up trees, jump off swings and pretty much run around until my mom called me in for the day. One day, I was playing with one of my good friends from up the street in the backyard. We were jumping off the swings into the yard...well it would have been the yard had there not been so much clover in the area! Here I am, about five or six years old, and I jump feet-first into a patch of clover in the middle of summer. Ooops. Let it be known that I was unaware of the sting of bees until this point. I start to wail, and my mom comes running. She looks outside and sees me on one foot, crying, with Tony calmly taking out the stinger and telling me I'll be fine. Sure enough, stinger out and foot back to normal, I was back running around within the hour. It's still one of my mom's favorite stories.

We had a pool when I was a kid and one summer afternoon, a Sunday, the whole family was relaxing by the pool. Everyone had sodas and a beer for my dad. A bee had crawled inside the can for a sip just before my father took a sip. The startled bee stung him on the upper lip. His whole face stated to swell. So much so that he looked like Richard Nixon without hair. Since it was late Sunday afternoon--4ish--there were no drug stores/supermarkets/doctor's offices open. We drove ALL over town trying to find someplace to buy Benedryl. We finally found it at an Eckard Drug that was *just* about to close to buy it. We still have the "I am not a crook" phot of my father as Richard Nixon.

I'm a new reader, I love your blog by the way, your photography and knitting are so inspiring!

My bee story is this: When I was about 12 years old, some family friends came over, and my Mom told us to go out and play. Since my sister was best friends with the girl of the family who was close to her age. The oldest boy was my age, and he had a much younger brother. Of course being the girl that I was, I didn't have too many boy related toys to play with, so we were investigating our fort that was basically a very well supported section on top of a huge Rhododendron bush behind my dads wood pile....Unfortunately for our friends, I had gone up first, stomping on a bee's nest in the ground. They came up behind me, and ended up in a cloud of angry bees. Sorry guys, I think between the two of them they had over twenty bee stings, and I didn't even get one.

My husband, the love of my life, is a World Champion Skeet Shooter. From the time I met him, he has always worn a certain bumble bee pin on his shooting vest. I asked him about it because it is the only adornment on his vest. When he was in high school, he was invited to try out for the Olympic team. Before he left, one of his teachers gave him the pin because, as you may or may not know, bumble bees are not supposed to be able to fly. Their body weight is more than their wings/wing span should support...but...they do fly...so against all odds, when they aren't expected to succeed, they do! Awwwwwww...what a sweet story...besides, next month is our 17th wedding anniversary...wouldn't it BEE great to win????

One honey memory, one bee-sting.
1-- When I was growing up, we lived in a house built in 1906. It had a coal furnace in the basement, and a 3-foot square heater register above it. Somehow, my mother acquired a 5-gallon tin of honey that had totally solidified, so we sat it on the heater register to melt. It took weeks. But it was a nice place to sit when you were chilly!
2-- August 2005 was my brother's wedding. It was held in his in-laws' backyard. I got stung by a bee, and it HURT! Kinda put a damper on the day, but now they are pregnant and I hope they have a sweet lil one in December.

If you would like to try some fantastic Tupelo honey, check out our area purveyor, The Savannah Bee Company:
http://www.savannahbee.com/

That yarn is breathtaking! I love it. And here's my bee story... (well it's more about honey, but they're related, right?)

When my hubby and I were getting married we were appalled at all the cheesy "gifts" that were offered for us to give to our guests. At the time, the hubby was doing a lot of beer brewing and we had tried a small batch of mead (kinda like honey-wine), which came out great. We did some research into mead, and apprently it was traditionally given to newleywed couples to "ensure a fruitful marriage," and help in the process of getting pregnant withing the first month. And this is where the "honeymoon" came from - becuase they would get a "moon" worth (one month) of honey wine! Cute, eh?

So hubby and I treked down to Pike's Place Market and bought a few GALLONS of local honey (they thought we were crazy), and made up a giant batch of mead, which we then bottled up and gave to our guests! It was super fun and everyone loved it.

My favorite bee was my Grandma B. She emigrated here from Ireland at the turn of the last century with her sister, and put herself through the nursing program at Sydenham Hospital, which was in the Morningside Heights section of Manhattan (sort of West Harlem to those of you from out of town, bordering Columbia U.) In any event, "B" 's real name was Bridget, but in an effort to become more "American", she decided to call herself "Beatrice"; that way she could still be called "B". Of course, her Irish brogue was not as easily eradicated so I am sure no one mistook her for a homegrown Yankee! Anyhow she spent her nursing wages on a tiny little house in Dutchess County NY's farmland (reminiscent of Ireland), raised three boys and had a lovely life making handmade quilts, canned peaches, and blancmange for dessert with berries.

Love the color and the pattern. Here is one of my bee stories. When I was a teenager I loved to garden and grew many flowers and vegetables. The soil was so soft I would often go into the garden without shoes. One day I stepped on a bee. It stung me before dying. When I examined my foot I could still see the stinger pulsating. I quickly removed the stinger and was suprised that my foot never swelled up. I still occasionally go barefoot, but when I am around my flowers I make sure to have something on my feet.

I don't really have a bee story, but I love peanut butter and honey sammiches, and I think the kit is glorious!

I grew up on an island in SE Alaska and we didn't go shopping a ton. Well, I was eight or so and we went to the toy store, rather a store with toy section, and we were looking at legos and I felt something pinch me on my calf. I rolled up my pants and I'd been stung by a bee. Just amazing that such a thing could happen and I've survived to tell the tale.
I truly love the shawl and the designer!

That is some stunning yarn, and the pattern is genius.
My bee story - we have a family cottage. My one sister in law has led a somewhat sheltered life, nd had never been "exposed to bees" (her words). Hard to believe, but true. She married to my husband's brother, and we were all up north one weekend. My husband got stung by a bee. No biggie, it happens. While I am trying to remove the stinger (with the credit card method - it works!), SIL is hovering around, freaking out, and basically, melting down. Then she stops, stands still, and says, quite anxiously, "Does it hurt? Becasue if it does, I'm leaving, NOW!" In order for her (and hubby's brother) to ever set foot back there, we had to convince her that bee stings do NOT hurt. She calmed down, and to this day (14 years later) she still thinks bee stings do not hurt. I only shudder to think of what's going to happen if her kids ever get stung...

That yarn you inspired is so, so beautiful. You must feel so powerful. "Hey, make this!" And then, there it is. That photo of the cake-comb is particularly stunning.

My bee stories are super mundane. Honey, however... I have very fond feelings toward honey. My grandmother used to give me the old spoonful of honey with lemon in it to help ease the pain of the chronic sore throats I had as a kid. And it fills me with a very specific kind of peace thinking about that. Later in life, I must sheepishly admit, my fondness for honey has become almost entirely based on its sensual properties. Let's just leave it at that.

My bee story...
I was about 8 and we were walking through the woods in Mendocino where my great-Aunt lived. I was keeping an eye out for bees, the kind that live in the ground, I forget are those wasps? I found a nest and carefully walked as faar around it as I could. And yet I still angered the bees and two flew up my pants leg. One was stinging my leg and the other burrowed into my innie bellybutton and was repeatedly stinging me. I jumped out of my pants and my stepmom had to pull the bee out of my bellybutton with her fingernails. I was too freaked out to put my pants back on until we got back to the house.

When I was little we had two girls who lived next door and they used to come over the play, but they had to stay together, so if one went home the other one had to as well. One day we were outside and the older girl sat on a bee, and well, it stung her, so she went running home crying, with us chasing after her begging her to stay because we didn't want to have to break up our fun.

Well, it's almost a bee story. Last year my city was overtaken by wasps. I have never seen anything quite like it. I worked in an open concession at a beach so you can imagine that we attracted lots of them. We could put out a trap and get 20 in as many minutes. Just before they really started I was working with another guy, just the two of us. He couldn't cook, just cash, so I was stuck unable to leave for breaks unless the managers son ever walked by to let me go for a minute. I was ridiculously hot and when the customers started to fade I told him I was going into the back room to eat a popsicle, I'd made some fries and if no one ordered hot food he wasn't to call me short of him dying. I could've killed him when not a thirty seconds into the popsicle he starts screaming for me to come and kill a wasp because he's too scared. It was a loooooong summer.

Every year, one of my favorite exhibits at the State Fair is the Bees & Honey area. There are beeswax crafts made by children, and a photography competition, bee demonstrations, a glassed-in hive to watch, honey samples and honey ice cream!

We found out that I was allergic to bees the hard way. When I was in 5th grade, my dad was taking me to school, and a bee stung me in the cheek. No one thought anything about it.. it hurt, but I was a whiny kid, so off to school we went. By the time we pulled up to the front doors, my cheek was the size of a grapefruit. Needless to say, there was no school for me that day.

Ooh, both those yarns are amazing! I can't wait to see the finished product. I don't have any good bee stories, except that I have never been stung by a bee in my long 29 years of life.
Oh, I did think of another story, in my family's old house which was in a pretty remote, wooded area, there was a yellowjacket (I guess those aren't bees, but close enough) nest somewhere in the roof or chimney or something, and at the end of every summer all these dying bees would fall down the chimney into the fireplace in my parents' bedroom. So there'd be all these dying, pissed off yellowjackets crawling all over the floor for about a month and my dad would have to go around gooshing them all (nobody else wanted to do it!). It was gross. Pretty amazing that I managed to not get stung at all, even in that house.

Funny thing about timing. I have a bee story from just two weeks ago. My husband and I threw a thank you BBQ for about 20 leaders of our Boy Scout Troop. They're the people you can always count on to help no matter what the event or what you ask of them. So we wanted to say thanks to our unsung heroes. One of the couples offered to bringover their outdoor table and chairs. She put the table in her SUV and drove to our house. My husband got the table out of the car and as he turned it over a swarm of bees flew out of the umbrella tube and he got stung about 10 times. He's such a good "Boy Scout" that he refused to drop the table and just let it happen. Fortunately it was him and not me...I am so allergic to bees that I'd have spent the party in the ER! Needless to say I got the bee spray and cleared out the tube. There was a huge nest in it. Love that yarn, by the way. They're both gorgeous!

my favorite bee story?

I love that yarn and want it to make the bee shawl.

the end.

My bee story is about the first time I helped to put new queens in a friend's beehives. Two out of three had lost their queens, and we were replenishing them with queens that had just arrived in the mail. I was a masters student in conservation biology at the time, and it was *wonderful* to actually spend time in and with nature rather than just reading about it and writing papers.

We watched the drones tap, tap, tap the queen as she was in her protected box, and then got ready to visit the hives. Protective clothing all over, including the wonderfully funny hat, and we both carried smoke puffers to keep any rambunctious bees away. I loved watching my friend pry up the edges of the hive (glued together with propolys or bee glue) to see the action inside. We inspected the cells full of honey and made sure that everyone inside was doing well.

It was an incredibly peaceful, caring way to spend the afternoon. No stings, just lovely smells of honey and woodsmoke and the amazing sight of bees flying all around, doing what they do so very well!

alas no good bee stories here! Just a bee freak my name in Hebrew is D'vora (means bee)and has kind of been a lifelong fascination with them because of this. I definitely have more bee stuff then any one person should but I do need this pattern a bee shawl is highly appropriate for a bumble bee girl ;)

Hi Cara ~ I have only been stung by a bee once in my life and will never forget it. I was in a little park a couple houses down from my childhood home, probably in my tween years. I stepped on a bee and conveniently sat immediately on the concrete bench nearby to watch the bee, still attached, struggle to extract itself from my heel. I waited until it stopped moving to start hopping on one foot back to my house for my mom to put some wet tobacco on it "to take the sting out." The bee fell out en route, but she had to tweeze the stinger out. Not too thrilling, but it's all I've got!
PS> Today is Wooly Wonka Anne's birthday!

Delurking because I can't resist a chance to win that gorgeousness.

My bee story is more of a lesson in natural history. Did you know that figs and fig wasps (not actually bees, but most people don't differentiate) are so closely coevolved that each species of fig is pollinated by a single species of wasp, and each species of wasp harvests the pollen of only one species of fig? None can survive without its partner. A fun biology fact to know and tell.

I don't have a bee story, except that I am already up to row 52 on the shawl in Buckwheat Honey and you are going to force me to order the Oregon Honey, honey!

my bee story is a bit of a doozy... I was 9, at girl scout camp. we were all sitting around singing songs after lunch. I felt something by my ear. I scratched. then I felt a BURNING SEARING HORRIFIC pain. apparently a bee had crawled INTO my ear and stung me way, way down in my ear canal. They had to try for nearly an hour to get the stinger out, and then poured peroxide into my ear. and I couldn't hear through that ear for a week because of the swelling.

Stupid bees.

And yet? I love honey, and am totally loving the bee shawl.

My favorite bee story? My dad raised honey bees in our backyard in the 1960s. He'd dress in white "beekeepers hat" and netting and pull out the trays with the comb and honey dripping, bees clinging to it, break it off and drop pieces into canning jars, then walk away from the hives with the jars open as the bees remaining on the comb made their way back to freedom and the hive...I'm deathly allergic to bees, but the beekeepers' dance was entrancing. I thought my father was the bravest man in the world!

And then our city passed an ordinance making it illegal to keep bees in the city limits.

I haven't seen a honey bee in the city in years...it's why Anne's pattern, and the yarn are so special!
(((hugs)))

My favorite bee story isn't mine. There's a book called Angels Crest by Leslie Schwartz, most of which is a really heartbreaking story anout losing a little boy. However, there's a character in there who keeps bees, and she loves them and checks the hives in the winter and one time, because of a mistake she's made, a colony is dying and she has to kill the queen.

This is the second time I've recounted this honey-related story on someone's bog this week, here goes: I was living in Marrakech with my then in-laws. My FIL was a very important, imposing sort, NOT the kind of person you say 'no' to. I was taking the bus to Rabat and he made me take a gigantic jar of honey with me for the relatives (Moroccans are obsessed with bringing gifts to one another, it's totally mandatory). So I put the jar of honey in the luggage rack above the seats, and at some point it started slowly dripping on the passengers below who started shrieking and panicking. One woman in particular became completely hysterical. A huge melee ensued and the bus driver pulled the bus over and demanded to know whose honey it was...because I was terrified, you can imagine that I didn't say a word!! When we arrived, the woman who had the honey all over her decided that she had a right to it, so she took it. Greatest humiliation: I arrived empty handed, but everyone had a huge laugh at my expense, so I guess it was worth the trauma...

Ooo, so beautiful.
Hmm, favorite bee story. That would probably be the time that the bee got in my friend's coke can and stung her on the tongue when she tried to drink it.

I've only been stung by a bee once, but in a more normal way. I did, however, have a wasp fly into my shoe while I was walking. I was wearing jellies (it was the 80s) and they flip-flopped a bit as I walked. It flew in between my heel and the shoe. I stepped back down and it stung me on my heel. I got it good, though.

I didn't think I had a bee story, but this just came to me (boring as it may be). Last time we were in Arizona, we sat on the front patio and watched a bee for about 10 minutes...just buzzing from flower to flower was somehow fascinating.

I'm not a great storyteller, but my favorite honey-related memory is from my wedding. My husband and I are traditional in a non-traditional sense in that we incorporated a lot of traditions that mean a lot to us into our wedding, but which aren't really typically American traditional. One of them was based partly off the original meaning of a "honeymoon" (which I see someone has already posted about, so I won't repeat it), and my intended's dislike of most champagne. We approached our caterer (also a very dear friend of ours) and asked if we could bring in our own beverage for the toast, and he agreed as long as the transaction took place through him (for legal reasons). We agreed and asked another dear friend, who is also a master brewer, if he would be willing to brew us enough honey mead to use in place of the champagne for our toasts, and even more, if he could work through our caterer friend to arrange delivery. Doug brewed us one keg of an absolutely divine vanilla mead and another of an exquisite berry mead which was served to our guests for the toasts. The mead apparently loosened a few tongues because we had no fewer than a dozen toasts from our friends and family throughout the course of the meal, and while I don't remember them all verbatim anymore, just remembering the feeling of love and support suffusing the room is enough to make even my darkest moods lighten and remind me how truly sweet my life is.

As a little girl, my grandfather used to keep bees on his farm in NH. I have vivid memories of him in his gear making silly noises and flaring the net around the hat, giggling in the strawberries as we gathered honey for breakfast. Even after my grandparents moved from their house to a small apartment, my grandfather kept bottling honey for me, a bottle here and there. When I left for college after he died, I took the last bottle with me. It lived in my cupboard until my roommate, trying to make pancakes, thought it was store bought and used it to cook. I came home and found the empty bottle in the sink, draining after its rinse. I was totally heartbroken and sometimes, still really ache for it, but the empty bottle sits quietly on my bookshelf, a sweet reminder of a man who loved me so much he used to put honey on my toast in the mornings.

Looooove that honey colour. It's the golden-ness that really makes it. Rich too.

On to my bee story:

My partner's work got a new mascot costume back in May. It was (of course) a bee, named Barnabee, for their school program called "StudyBuzz". One day, my friend Nessa and I wanted to do a photo shoot in a park and my partner Jon decided to bring the bee costume along. He was happy enough to jump into this costume and just play around! We got crowds and crowds of people from kids to even adults. This one guy even wanted to piggy back Barnabee!!!

Some photos found here: http://marydotmusic.livejournal.com/135339.html

Plus we were able to get a photoshoot of Barnabee knitting, since our knitting group is called "The Bitchy Bees": http://community.livejournal.com/bitchybees/2007/05/07/ (We're not really bitchy, it was a mashup of stitch 'n bitch and knitting bee.) :D

My favorite bee story is from when I was about 4 and my older sister was 7. We were playing in the pool, and there was a bee nearby. I was terrified, so my sister got out and went to shoo it away. She was stung in the process. She was so tough about it, and I thought she was the bravest person I had ever known. (I still often think that about her). I often remember this story and feel so blessed to have an older sister who took care of me then, and continues to take care of me now.

The honey yarn is beautiful! And the Bee . . . gorgeous.

We have a funny bee story in our family. When I was a teenager, my family went on a vacation to Indiana. We were in the Indianapolis Zoo - an amazing zoo with all the big, scary animals people want to see. Near the bear exhibit, my mother started thrashing around and yelling, "HE BIT ME! HE BIT ME!" Zoo workers and security people came running. Curious onlookers gathered. My father grabbed my mother and shouted, "What bit you?" My mother whimpered, "A bee! A bee!" Very embarrassing.

This isn't very interesting but here's mine. I always avoided bees because I had never been stung by one and because I hadn't, I didn't know if I'd have an allergic reaction if I was. Finally a few years ago I was stung and I immediately looked around to see if anyone was close enough to help me if I went into shock. (Ok a bit paranoid!) Nothing happened so now I don't have to worry anymore.

Funny you should ask about bee stories... at the beginning of the week I was traveling doing a workshop and my Bunny (age 4.5) as in day camp. Each evening I called and was told that all was well. Yesterday Bunny says, "I got my first bee sting while you were away!" Suddenly panicking I asked him about it. "It hurt for a while, but I got ice, a sting pad, and a sticker. I didn't want you to worry." So sweet, and I guess we know he's not allergic to bee stings!!

That is damn fine looking yarn . . . I wanted to lick the screen or at least wipe a biscuit on it. Okay, bee story. I've been pretty fortunate with bee stings as they don't bother me, but I know that others aren't that lucky. One of my former students was deathly allergic to them and as such had to have an Epi Pen with him where ever we went. So, we are on our third field trip for the year and were eating outside. There were bees so we moved inside. We always traded times with the medicine bags and I said to my co-worker, "Good thing Chris didn't get stung, otherwise you would have had to jab him with the Epi Pen." He looks at me and comments that it wouldn't be that bad. When I described the process to him, knowing full well that he hates needles (like couldn't even talk to me when I was getting a flu shot), he fainted in the middle of ten sixth graders. They never forgot.

I love the color and can't wait to see more of the bee shawl.
Bee story: One summer I went hiking with my cousins. On the way back down the trail, my cousin J stepped on a yellow jacket nest. I was right behind her and got the brunt of the attack. The most memorable sting was directly underneath my eye, and the stinger remained. My boy scout cousin P had to remove it with makeshit tweezers made from twigs.

That yarn is absolutely gorgeous!

I have a favourite bee-keeper story: my husband and I brew mead (honey wine) and had gone on a lovely country drive to find a new apiary for some honey. When we found the charming little farm, the beekeepers were a truly delightful young family, husband, wife, and toddler all looked as if they stepped out of some early 20th century film. They were so happy and helpful, he gabbing with my husband about honey ales and mead-making, she giving me little samples. Best of all, the honey was still warm, as it had just come fresh from the honey-extractor! We were only there to buy honey in bulk, but instead we'd found an amazing little family business, and I still remember them and that day fondly.

I love this shawl, but I have to admit that for a while I was torn about making it because I am terrified of bees!

When I was ten I was in my backyard playing and felt a prick on the bottom of my bare foot. I picked it up calmly to pull out whatever I'd stepped on, and saw a bee hanging there! I shreeked bloody murder. My father crossed the yard in about two steps, scooped me up, and got rid of the bee and the stinger.

This was the day before we were leaving for a month-long camping trip. For at least 2 weeks, I thought I could still feel the stinger in my foot, so every evening, my dad would dig around in my foot with a needle, trying to get the rest of the stinger out.

I still don't go barefoot.

(I've since learned that traumatized nerves often bunch up into a hard little knot, and I suspect that was what I really felt in my foot that summer.)

When I was a teen, I worked at Watkins Woolen Mill State Historic Park in the summer as a tour guide and living history demonstrator. Right next to the house are reproductions of the beehives that the Watkins family kept in the 1800's. The unused boxes are about half the size of a modern hive box and they sit on wooden rails. Now, we had a lot of strange questions from city folk, but my favorite will always be (pointing to the hive boxes) 'Are those chicken/squirrel houses?'

My first year of grad school I lived in a falling-down, mouldy old southern shack buried behind pecan trees and bamboo, and the bugs were everywhere. I was standing in my doorway talking to my friend/fellow grad student/next-door neighbour one day and watching the fat, fuzzy bumblebees buzz around. A few went into my roof and I remarked that they must have a nest up there. My friend said, "oh those are carpenter bees, they'll tear your house down!".

Pete and I still joke about that when we see bumblebees around our backyard flowers. Omigod, carpenter bees! They'll tear our house down! We thought it was really funny, and that my friend was cracked. But apparently there really are carpenter bees. These weren't them, though.

When I was a teen, I worked at Watkins Woolen Mill State Historic Park in the summer as a tour guide and living history demonstrator. Right next to the house are reproductions of the beehives that the Watkins family kept in the 1800's. The unused boxes are about half the size of a modern hive box and they sit on wooden rails. Now, we had a lot of strange questions from city folk, but my favorite will always be (pointing to the hive boxes) 'Are those chicken/squirrel houses?'

My story is kind of lame, but here goes:

I've only been stung by a bee once. I sat on it. It stung me on the butt. End of story.

The only time I've ever been stung by a bee is while I was SLEEPING. I woke up in the middle of the night because something wasn't right, reached down to my thigh, felt something TERRIBLE sticking out of my leg (poor bugger was still attached, somehow), and began to scream. My husband, still essentially asleep, rolled over, plucked it from my leg, tossed it to the side of the bed, bear hugged me, and immediately went back to sleep.

He's my honey, he is.

All of my bee stories revolve around getting stung. Barefeet or sandals, bees always sting my toes! Maybe I'd better knit me some Monkeys.

Love the bee shawl and especially love the honey yarn!

Ooooooh, that Honey yarn is sooooo pretty.

My bee story? Gosh, I have more bat stories than bee stories. But the very first bee I ever met was a giant black & yellow bumblebee, and apparently my form of introduction was poor, because I was clambering around in my parents' VW Bus (totally a clone from Little Miss Sunshine, minus the horn issues) and I guess I was rolling across the drivers' seat and my forearm smushed said bee. He stung me, I was shocked, my mother connected the dots, and I had a healthy fear/respect for them ever since. And I always sympathized with Ferdinand the Bull, when he accidentally sat on one.

I have less of a story than a general wondering : am I the only one who freaks out, runs and hides from anything that even remotely looks or sounds like a bee, except for the big fuzzy bumblebees which for some reason I think are remarkably cute?

my bee story is funny to me but not my big sis....when i was about 5 my sister (who was about 10 at the time) took me to the big playground at the nearby school. i was just sitting on the grass when all of a sudden i got stung by a bee. my sister rushed me home. the first thing my dad did was scold my sister for not watching the bee! we still laugh about dad's silly scolding!

Here is my current bee-predicament: I have lots and lots of lavendar that WAS supposed to go into honey and ice cream just before the blooms started popping (best flavor then). But we had a heat-wave that coincided with a camping trip that took us out of town, so when I returned I found all the lavendar had exploded into bloom. And the bees, the bees were ecstatic. tumbling over each other and all the flowers, they are STILL swarming the patch and I just can't interrupt that exquisite scene. I guess we will have to content ourselves with the second flush of flowers, the bees get these!

I never win anything, but here goes. I grew up with 15 acres of orchard (pears and cherries) around my house, and every spring the bee man would come with hives of his prolific pollinators to ensure our crops for the year. I loved the sound of the low humming during those weeks that the bees were there. It was just the sound of life going on and it is still one of my most favorite sounds.

I've got bunches of bee stories for some reason, so I'll just kind of lump some together and count it as one entry.

I have an aversion to bees (except beautiful lacy ones, of course :) ) that I seem to have passed on to my son. Mine started when I was about twelve or so and walking in the woods with some friends, and I noticed that my legs felt weird, kind of itchy. I looked down and MY ANKLES WERE COVERED IN BEES. I must have stepped in a hive or something. I freaked out and ran to a nearby stream and stamped around in the water. I got stung about 20 times that day, and my valiant sister got I think nine stings trying to help. My son has never been stung, but he has inherited my bee issue, apparently. We go camping every year and the summer he was two he spent a lot of time yelling "Stay away bee! Stay away bee!" at any insect that flew, including mosquitos, gnats, etc.

Thanks for the great contest idea, and for suggesting the colorway to Tina. It's just gorgeous.

What a gorgeous color!

I'm allergic to bees so they kind of freak me out if I see one. My daughter though, likes to draw shells and bees for her name - Shelby!

My parent's dog used to chase bees, and snap at them. Luckily, he never caught one, but watching him jump through the flower beds, seeming to just snap at the air was hilarious.

I've never been stung, but I'm a bit worried about what would happen if I do. Mosquito bites turn into tennis balls on me.

I love honey! We use tons of it in my house. Gorgeous gorgeous yarn. Here is my bee story: It was a hot summer day, much like today. I was house hunting and the realtor brought me to this house with a masssive massive wood deck. I walked to the edge of the deck to admire the view and must've disturbed some nest under the deck. A bunch of bees flew out and stung my left foot a bunch of times. I started jumping around screaming mother-fing shit over and over. The realtor, I'm sure, was shocked and probably felt bad about the stings. I did not buy the house and my foot swelled up from all the stings.

I don't have many fond bee memories, as I am very allergic. I blow up like a balloon like Martin Short in Pure Luck. I do, however, remember being quite young and out at a children's theater with my mom and younger sister. We had just seen a fun puppet version of Pinocchio with the most amazing marionettes, and were about to go back in for a stage version of Cinderella. We were outside eating our picnic snacks, when I was stung by a bee.



Of course, I blew up to about 3 times my normal size, and started to wheeze quite badly. My mom was just about to pack us in the car and take us to the ER, when I started throwing a temper tantrum. I refused to leave until I had seen Cinderella! My mom was getting panicky, worried that I'd go into shock and trying to wrestle a puffy, wheezy cranky four year old into the car.



Another mother overheard the whole commotion, and came to the rescue with some Benadryl syrup. I was able to see Cinderella after all. I stopped crying, took the syrup as a brave little girl, and got into the theater to take my seat for the show.



My favorite part of the whole episode was when the show began, I was so enchanted by the whole story that I forgot I had even been stung. Being puffy and wheezy and cranky went away as soon as the curtain rose.



My mom couldn't thank the other mother enough for the forethought to be carrying Benadryl to a children's theater performance. From that day on, she never left home without it, and there were many other occasions when it came in handy.



I'd love to knit the Bee Fields shawl, and if I don't win, I'm sure to be buying it soon enough!

When I was little the house we lived in became infested with bees one summer. They had managed to wiggle their way into the heating ducts and for two days we had to put towels over all the vents and shove toilet paper in all the nooks and crannies (because they were pouring out like water). When the people came to get rid of them they had to tear down the siding and part of the roof. They said we had over 150,000 bees in there. That's a lot of bees!

I can't wait to see the bee!

ok, this is a dorky bee story but the only thing that comes to mind... When I was in high school I worked as a waitress. The restaraunt that I worked in always played classical music on the muzac. Every single day I would hear the "flight on the bumble bee." Still to this day when I hear that piece of music I am brought back to that time and place in my life.

I was the spelling bee champion in 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade. In the 6th grade bee, I was given the word "rhythm." After standing there racking my brain for over a minute, I spoke. "Rhythm. R-H-Y-T-H-E-M. Rhythm." As soon as the judge rang his little bell, the entire 6th grade audience let out a collective "Yesss!"

I still cringe a bit when I see the National Spelling Bee on television.

k well, don't if its my favorite, but it happened. Five years ago when we got my Westie aka West Highland Terrier... he was bout 10 weeks old... cutie patootie was rompin around in the grass outside (mid-July) stepped on a bee... yelped and was out for the count. Turned out my little guy is allergic to bee stings. Can you stand it?? Emergency run to the vet, shot, baby benadryll... and we made through the event.

I love all the pictures in this post! My story is short and quite sad: I am allergic to honey. :-(

My mother was a bee charmer just like Iggy in "Fried Green Tomatoes". We grew up eating wild honey right out of the comb. My mom would even chew bites of the comb like gum, but I was never brave enough for that (God I miss her)!

Can't wait to start my Bee Shawl. I ordered the green like Ann knit, but that was before I saw the Buckwheat Honey yarn. It's gorgeous!!

When I was a kid I lived in northern Michigan. Because of an overactive imagination and too much tv, I was terrified of two things - a tsunami on Lake Michigan, and killer bees. I was absolutely CERTAIN that it was possible to have a tidal wave on a lake as big as Lake Michigan, even if it was inland and nowhere near a fault line. And I watched the killer bees movies of the 70s over and over again, shrieking and quaking and positively terrified that the bees out in the garden were the killer variety and coming to get me.

After a while I smartened up, but I have to say the "I Used to Believe" website is one of my favorites, and there's a reason! :)

LOVE the yarn. It's gorgeous!

Okay, I must delurk to tell you my bee story, simply because to this day my dad and I still laugh about it.

Last summer my dad came out to Texas to help move me out of my apartment. We were planning on driving cross country to my new digs in the SF Bay Area. I had been battling bees on my balcony for quite some time, and would periodically knock off the hives onto the ground a floor below (yeah, I was a great neighbor). So the morning of the move, I had knocked off a couple hives to my dad's great consternation. Anyway, he went out onto the porch to move some of my junk around and immediately started jumping around and yelling "BEES! BEES!" and ran into the bathroom where he had a bunch of bees on him and had been stung several times. The glare he gave me was mighty.

So, it became my job to move the stuff off the balcony porch. I couldn't tell where the bees came from, because hello, I'd knocked off their hives and they weren't the type of bees to come back for revenge. So I went to move my big bucket that I used to hold an old rag rug I'd accidentally spilled India ink on, and now *I* was the one jumping around and screaming and covered in bees.

The bees had hived themselves in the rag rug inside the bucket, and when we'd moved it, we'd angered them.

In the end, we were forced to spray them down and I had to get rid of the bucket and rug. We were covered in stings, and went down to the Walmart for Benadryl pills and creams, and blew out of San Antonio with battle scars.

And that's my bee story! :D

What a great shawl and color! My favorite bee memory involves my family dog when I was growing up - Heidi. She was a beautiful German Shepherd who would patrol the backyard while we were swimming hunting for bees - she'd of course chew them up, so a bad ending for the bee, but we thought Heidi was a hero!

Thanks!

Lori

I love bees and I've been tempted by the Bee Fields pattern, but I'm saving up money to move right now and can't afford to buy more yarn or patterns. My favorite bee story just happened last weekend:

I was sitting on a stone bench & leaning on the stone wall behind it while reading my new Harry Potter book last Saturday when I heard buzzing. I looked around and saw that all of the flowers behind my head had bees of various types on them. It surprised me and made me smile. The buzzing kept me company for the rest of the afternoon and not a single bee bothered me.

Mine is actually a quote that I love to death. Regardless of who wins, I hope you enjoy this.

Nothing is so like a soul as a bee. It goes from flower to flower as a soul from star to star, and it gathers honey as a soul gathers light.

~Victor Hugo

We were living in PA. The backyard had a hill covered in ivy and railroad ties. The railroad ties were starting to rot and being first time home owners, we deceided to dig them out and get rid of them....not only was it hard work, there were hives in them. After being stung multiple times in multiple places, I gave up and moved inside only to find that the stings on my ear caused it to swell so that it looked like I had been in a boxing match. Only problem was I was due in NYC on business early the next morning. Creative scarf work saved the day. Let's just say that I try to avoid the hive if at all possible from that day onward!

When my son was about three, we used to go out early in the fall morning, and pet the bumblebees before the sun warmed them enough to move. They are unbelievably soft! My son still talks about it, and it's a memory I'll always cherish.

The shawl is going to be gorgeous in that color!

I don't really have a bee "story". It is more like a series of bee events. Every single time I have been stung by a bee(or even a wasp)it was because I was trying to save either a friend or one of my kids from being stung.

For example. I had taken my 2 toddlers swimming and my then 2 year old noticed a dead bee in the water. I pulled him away and tried to "swoosh it away" as he puts it. Another kid had jumped onto my back causing me to loose my balance and the damned thing stung my knuckle just below my wedding band. Whole finger swelled up like a sausage.

Another time I had to fish out a toy shovel from a broken water fountain. It's base was like a basin and was filled to the rim with water and mud that the kids had put in it. I stuck my hand in there and came up with a yell. In between my fingers was a stinger. I looked at the basin and sure enough a dead bee floated to the top.

This has happened about 6 times in my life. You would think I would learn.

~Viv

Growing up I was never afraid of bees because my grandfather kept a few hives in the back field behind his house. I remember one time he took me down to see the bees and we sat on benches and watched them for a bit, and he talked about how honey is made and how to act around bees to keep from getting stung - I remember watching one crawl over my fingers and feeling perfectly safe and happy and unafraid. It's one of my favourite memories of my grandfather, who passed away when I was twelve, sadly.

I used to visit my grandma every summer when I was little. In anticipation of my arrival she
would always go over to a neighbour's house (who was a beekeeper), and pick up some farm
fresh honey just for me. It was always liquid and golden. That honey was so deliciously amazing
when spread over some freshly baked biscuits.

A few years ago I saw a bee flying around the house, so I whacked it with a newspaper and it fell behind the couch, where I forgor about it. Hours later I was getting ready for bed and felt a searing pain in the bottom of my foot. That bee had crawled 15 feet while severely injured, but he got his revenge!

Beautiful!

My bee story is simple. My inlaws have 20 acres and they grow raspberries and have fruit trees. A neighbor of theirs raises bees for honey and sets up hives at different peoples houses. He was over checking on the hive while we were there and my 6 year old was watching. He explained all about the hive to her, and then let her hold a male bee (which won't sting). The look on her face when she told me she got to hold a bee in the palm of her hand was priceless.

As far as stings -- a poultice of baking soda and water will help pull the poison out of the sting and will make it hurt a lot less faster. It won't do anything for the swelling allergic reaction, but it does help the discomfort factor.

oh...I started the bee too in my own yarn and joined the KAL. It is actually my first shawl...i guess I like to jump in with both feet. I will have some pictures up when i get some progress done.

Well...my dad is allergic to bees so one day when I was about 4 he was stung while working in the garage and I happened to see the subsequent freak-out and swell-up and basically cartoon episode of my father jumping up and down while his arm ballooned into this unrecognizable thing. And he's a doctor. I digress.

My husband seriously wonders out loud sometimes why I am deathly afraid of bees. I have only been stung once. goooooo figure.

My favourite bee story is that I've never been stung. :)

No bee stories, but I just wanted to tell you how gorgeous the color is. It couldn't be any closer to honey than the real stuff! I can't wait to see Bees Fields made!!

my favorite bee stories are found here
http://www.birdchick.com/labels/beekeeping.html

no personal ones.

Hmm--honey recipies...my personal favorite when I wish to succumb to my weakness for champagne comes from the book Intercourses--I make my lemonade concentrate myself (1 part sugar, 1 part water, 1 part fresh squeezed lemon juice)--but here's the recipe:
3oz frozen lemonade concentrate mixed with 2T Grand Marnier and 2T honey (warmed) stir until hone is dissolved and mix with 1/2 bottle of chilled champagne, garnish with fresh berries.

The question I always ask myself is why they limited it to 1/2 a bottle? Hmmm. And, if ever I'm in need of rationalization, I remind myslef that local honey is good for staving off that hay fever....Do I have to wait until after 5if it's medicinal?

Perfect timing! This weekend we launch the website for my friend, beekeeper extraordinaire, MamaBeehive! She just emailed me this morning, to tell me she won a Blue Ribbon at State and was just asked to become the "bee expert" for a new work of fiction by a local author. This is her bee-wonderful weekend!
As her photographer, web manager, friend, and honey champion, I think I should win the prize :)

Goodness, they must've just loaded it since I was cruising the site at the beginning of lunch & didn't see it. Darn, now I need it to my list of STR colors I want. Leave it to Tina, dyer extraordinaire to come up w/that gorgeous color.

No fun bee stories from me since I'm allergic as heck to them.

I was in my early twenties and my boyfriend and his friends were reliving their juvenile delinquent days - shooting bb's at leaves floating down the creek behind the house. I had never shot a bb gun before (a liberal/girly childhood) and the 4 of them were determined I was going to do so. I rested the bb gun on the porch railing, took the shot and leaned back in my chair…directly onto a bee. One sting, centered directly in the middle of my back, rather like a target now that I think of it. I took that as a sign and haven’t touched any type of gun since. I also haven’t been stung again. Coincidence? I think not. :)

A friend's daughter was stung by a bee when she was about 7 years old. After that incident, every time that little brother, who was 3 at the time and witnessed the sting, saw a bee, he'd start this really strange chant: "A bee. A bee. A bee." He honestly sounded like he had Tourette's syndrome. Very freaky.

Our family kept bees when I was younger and every summer we'd collect the honey boxes and bring them up to the garage to get the honey out. The bees would be outside the garage windows buzzing around and wanting their honey back!

So one year, we're all outside taking a break, talking and drinking iced tea, and my grandmother suddenly whoops and goes running across the lawn ripping her shirt off and yelling... She'd gotten a bee up her shirt and had felt it start crawling around on her.

Luckily, it didn't sting her, but we laughed about that for days!

Well, I am so jealous because you have such an amazing eye for color and because Tina has designed what, two? three? colorways for you. But I'm not really complaining. I ordered the Bee fields pattern and the Oregon Red Clover Honey yarn in Silk Thread. I will benefit from your giftedness AND your friendship with Tina.

Here's my story---my name, Melissa, means "honey-bee." And when I saw that shawl, I knew I had to knit it! xo

Oh, I just want to lick that yarn up. Can you post bigger pictures and I'll go get some tissues to wipe up my drool.

Bee story belongs to my mom mostly, but here it is. You know how when you're a kid and your parents tell you something interesting about themselves, part of you doesn't really believe it? I mean, it's your parents; they're not interesting, right? My mom once told me she was DEATHLY allergic to bee stings. Now, maybe part of me was afraid of the deathly part, but most of me said, in my mind of course, I'd never sass her out loud, "Yeah sure you are." One nice summer day, we were out picking peaches from the trees in our yard and Mom let out a little scream. Just sort of an "Oh no, I dropped a really good peach" sound. By the time I looked over to her, she had her hand clamped around the side of her neck and had a paniced look in her eyes. She ended up being ok and all, but I will never forget how her neck swelled up to look like she had literally swallowed a grapefruit. It happened in a matter of hours. I don't remember her going to the Dr. for a shot or anything. It was just one sting. I did, however, believe her for most of the other things she said from that point on. Most of them.

Ah, honey! When I think of honey, I think of my grandfather who passed away earlier this year. He and my grandmother raised beef cattle for many years, and I remember spending my summers on the farm, terrorizing the cattle. Last time we were up there the honey people came by and dropped off some honey that was gathered from some of the hives on their land. Whenever I see that jar of honey they gave me, I think of my grandparents.

Once when I was small, we were at the neighborhood pool. My dad saw a bee float by in the water that was still alive. He felt bad for it and tried to scoop it up out of the water before it drowned, and it stung him. Little bastard.

Bee story? Here's mine. Brace yourself. If you are not wearing underwear, you might want to go put some on. It was 1972, I was very pregnant with my twins. It was hot, and I was heavy, and hot, and I was wearing a long muumuu with no underwear in a vain attempt to keep cool. I was walking around in the garden, and finally went to sit down on a garden bench. And I sat on a bee, that had climbed up the inside of the muumuu and managed to insert itself somewhere exactly where no one, I repeat no one, ever wants to get stung. Especially if you are pregnant and cannot get agilely to the area to remove the stinger and apply something soothing. Remarkably, I felt sorry for the bee, and I have never been stung in the 40 years since, and I have a good relationship with bees. I come across them quite often as I am a window cleaner, and talk to them, urging them to get away from windows before I spray them with soapy water.

I have two bee stories, but I'll pick just one. When I was 17, I was at my Grandmothers house which is on the St. Claire river in MI. With all the swimming, there's lots of barefoot walking in the grass. I didn't have my glasses or contacts so I managed to step on a bee right on my arch! I thought I had the whole stinger out, but a little was left in. Fast forward one month to when my Mom was out of town and I was at a local two week ballet camp. I started getting hives on my legs which quickly spread to the rest of my body. My arch was so swollen you could see it anymore. I totally didn't think my Dad was up to this medical challenge and went to one of the other dance mothers first. It worked out in the end with a trip to the doctor (my Dad managed to make the appt), novacaine in my foot and a doctor fishing to pull out the rest of the stinger. I could barely get my soft ballet shoes on for the final parents performance, but I still did it!

My favourite bee story? It features my brother, an obviously courageous and intelligent child. We were still in elementary school, I think, and we were visiting my grandparents over the summer. We were messing about on the balcony, when we notice a bee. Me being the girl I am, I run and hide. Taylor? A little more ballsy. He decides it's a good idea to karate chop it. So he does. And it stings his pinky good. He starts crying and grandpa freaks out and bundles us up to take us to the hospital. Good times.

I am so going to have to buy the pattern and yarn if I do not win!! Let me see, there are so many bee stories... I am allergic, but not at all afraid of honey bees. They are not mean, so if you do not threaten them, it is all good. My parents had one small bee hive in our back yard, and we were all told to leave it alone, what would happen etc. Well, one day, one of my younger brothers stuck a stick in the opening, and ended up having to be stripped in the back yard to get all the bees out of his clothing. He never tried that again!

I don't have one bee story, but a series of coincidences that have been following me around for a year. Last summer a friend let me borrow _Robbing the Bees_ by Holley Bishop, and I've been fascinated by honey and apiculture ever since. My co-worker and I talk about setting up an urban apiary in her backyard when we get laid off. We're both concerned about the decline of honeybees in North America. One of my favorite foods is crumpets with butter and honey. Last week I had my natal chart read by an astrologer and she asked me if I had any connection with bees or wasps because of something she saw.

Bees are trying to make themselves noticed in my life right now.

I've always been horribly afraid of bees, but strangely, I've only been stung once. One day in high school, I was sitting with a friend in the school stadium watching the girls play football. Of course all the spectators were goofing off. Suddenly I felt something hit the back of my head. I assumed someone had thrown something at me, so I reached back to pull whatever it was out of my hair. It turned out to be a bee which stung my finger immediately. I nearly hyperventilated. My friend removed the stinger, disposed of the bee, and I went off to pottery class. Once in class, I packed clay around the sting, and it actually helped reduce the swelling. All in all, it wasn't such a traumatic experience. But I still freak out whenever I hear the buzzzzzzz.

This happened to me Wednesday.

We have a new pole barn, just built in 2006. One of my hens decided to make her nest in the soffet, in the inside corner of the roof overhang about 15' up. Of course I did not realize this until her chick hatched. Yup just one chick.
Who peeped and peeped and peeped and ran the length of the soffet (~40') looking for mama who had flown to the ground to show her kid the world.
I carried the extension ladder into the barn and somehow managed to not hit anything as I hoisted it against the wall and began my ascent. I stood at the top of that ladder for quite some time reaching for that darn chick who was always just out of reach and finally ran down to the other side.I went down the ladder and got a piece of cardboard to shorten his trail a little bit - I blocked the alley that the soffet made. the little bugger got through anyway.
Meanwhile the mama hen is on the ground, screaming her head off because she knows I am after her baby. And she sets of the roosters who start their screaming which brings the tom turkeys into the barn and they start their gobbling and the dog starts barking and that chick never stopped peep peep peeping.
Now where are the bees in this story, you may be wondering. For every rung on an aluminum step ladder there are 2 holes, one on each side. Four of these holes somehow managed to be loaded with wasps who must have just appeared because I am sure they were not there when I inspected all of the holes. And sure enough while I am resting at the top of this ladder, feeling sorry for this chick and myself because I can't reach the darn thing, I got stung.

Did I mention I am allergic?

Not incredibly allergic where I need to carry an epi-pen or die ( but I really should consider getting some_) but life sure is miserable for a while. I made it to the ground and hyperventilated and shook and told myself I would be ok. And finally I was.
I looked up the ladder to where I was and there were several wasps up there, lined up like soldiers waiting for the next onslaught.

I brought the ladder back down to be horizontal with the ground and sprayed the devil out of every hole. And 2 garter snakes emerged, somehow getting into the ladder after I checked all those holes.
Satisifed the bees were gone, I righted the ladder and tried for that darn chick again. I had the same luck I did the first round, but with less bees this time.

It was warm enough and baby chicks really don't need to eat for their first 3 days of life (they absorb the egg yolk before hatch and subsist on that) so I knew the chick should be ok until my husband came home. After all if he hadn't made the plunge to the ground by now it was doubtful he ever would.

So husband came home and wouldn't you know it, he retrieved that darn chick in about 2 minutes. Unassisted. With a 6 foot step ladder. By shimmying his way along the purlins of the wall he was able to reach up to where the chick was.

Mama and chick were very happy to be reunited. And I am pretty sure that chick is a rooster.

My favorite bee story happened when I was about 5 or 6. A friend was over with her parents and we were all in the backyard. I took the friend out to show her a hole in the ground with bees in it (okay, it probably was wasps, now that I think about it). I decided to catch some and covered the hole with a margarine tub. But then I couldn't see if there were any bees in the tub, so I lifted it up and the bees attacked me. I went running home with my friend behind me swatting at the bees. Our parents saw us coming and thought she was beating me up. I ended up with both eyes swollen shut and 6 stings on my face.

When I was a young girl I longed to drink soda out of a can instead of having to pour it into a cup, like only little girls had to do, of course. So, at a picnic one day my mother let me keep it in the can, but with the admonishment "you'll get a bee in there and get stung." Sure enough, bee in the mouth. I'm sure she arranged it somehow so I would stop questioning her wisdom!

The only time I've ever been stung by a bee was when I was a little girl. I was walking past the refrigerator and felt a really sudden, sharp pain on my upper leg. I started crying and my mom took my long pants off to find a bee had climbed up my pantleg and stung me. For years after that I was afraid to walk by that refrigerator!

What beautiful yarn! My only bee story is being stung when I was a smal child. The bee got me on my belly-button, which still stuck out at that time, with the swelling it nearly became bigger than my belly.
However, I do have a good beauty recipe with honey; mix a egg yolk, some honey (about 2 tablespoons) and some oatmeal to make a face mask. Place on the skin for about 10-15mins, then wash off. This will leave you with really soft skin.

Oh man. Total gorgeosity.

I have a truly fabulous and hilarious honey story, but I can't share it because it is completely X-rated. And I am just not prepared to tell that kind of story on a blog t