I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN ... LOVE, MOM

Sometimes (not every day) I like to have tea with honey in it.  During decent weather, I like to take my tea outside and sip it on the patio.  I could use sugar in my tea, as I occasionally do, but honey is my first choice, so I try to keep honey on hand at all times.

I usually get stuck with store-bought honey, but I much prefer buying honey from local beekeepers at fairs and farm stands.  Local honey helps cure a lot of what ails people, and it's especially good for relieving allergies - well, easing them, not curing them.  But, for now, since I haven't been to the farmer's market or any local farm stands in a while, I am stuck with good old manufactured (probably semi-fake) honey from some gawd-forsaken distance, like Argentina.

I am really looking forward to my morning tea on the patio, so I grab a my Shakespearean insults mug,  steep some Constant Comment tea, and open the cabinet for honey.

NO HONEY.

I cannot even believe my eyes.  Did I already take it out of the cabinet?  I search the kitchen.  I retrace my steps.  I even check out the other rooms: den, living room, bedrooms, even the bathroom.  Then I start checking every other cabinet, including where I store the plates.  Did I absently put it into the refrigerator?  The freezer? 

I recheck the cabinet where it belongs.  I take things out and put things back when I determine there is no honey.  I do this three times then reopen the cabinet four more times as if my eyes cannot believe what they are seeing.  There is only an empty spot where the honey belongs, regardless of how many times I look and re-look.

Still ... NO HONEY.

Finally, I text my youngest, who still lives here most of the time.  "Kid, I know this is a strange question, but have you seen the honey?"  I know this is stupid.  He probably hasn't opened that cabinet in a year or more.

My phone sits silent for a few minutes then vibrates to life.  "I brought it to work.  My throat was sore so I used it in tea."

Damn.  Well, damn, yes, but damn no.  I mean, I guess I cannot fault him for using the honey, but, geez, did he have to take it?  That's MY honey.

I suffer through with tea and sugar (bah ... sugar ... boring), add honey to my shopping list, and continue on with my day.  I'm going to Maine in a few days, anyway, and I know my sister (whom I will visit) has honey.  I'll stop at the berry farm up the street from her house.  A local beekeeper uses the berry farm as a distributor for honey; hopefully, there will be some honey for sale..

Local honey?  Well, not local to where I live, but I've practically lived up here in Maine this summer, anyway.  Surely I am local-by-proxy at this point.  I buy a jar of local honey and wrap it up tightly in the bag to bring it home with me.

I can finally have my tea with honey on the patio.  I'm not going to lie, though.  I'm seriously thinking of putting a sign on it: Take this honey to work and I will hunt you down and sting you with the anger of a thousand truly pissed off bees.  With all of my love, Mom.