Where do the hobbies end?

My dad, in his retirement, has picked up a number of hobbies. Sometimes they annoy mother and me as we would much rather him fix the basement or paint the house. That's not to say that he doesn't do handy things around the house. I mean, he did fix the washer--for the fourth time. He did order replacement wheels for a vacuum--that sucks (in that it doesn't). And he made sure that you could watch two televisions four different ways because one simple way isn't enough. My dad got a radio operator's license. He's even installed a multistory antennae. Now he just needs to get broadcasting equipment.

Last year he took up beekeeping. His first year turned out to be a bust. This year, though, he netted some results. A bucket of honey from the two hives he started. I guess we're set in the honey department for the next decade or so. (Honey never goes bad.)

Click to enlarge.



After the first round of filtering. It looks sort of like a bucket of ice tea.

When he bought the stuff home, the honey had all this crap in it. It looked like industrial sludge. So here are bits of wax, bees, and who knows what else.


In the end, it is still honey and it is still good. I could actually taste the difference between this honey and the kind we got from the store. I even did a taste test. His had a more subtle flavor to it and was lighter in color. I also thought that it more free flowing but I'm not that sure on that part.