Cookies to dunk in a hot cup of tea

And finally it seems that the bees are minding their own business

dunk

• VERB

1 [with object] dip (bread or other food) into a drink or soup before eating it:

I dunked a biscuit into the cup of scalding tea.

Oxford English Dictionary

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West Berkshire, February 2025

This second piece for the week was supposed to be a shorter essay, at least that’s what I told myself when I started writing it, but that’s not how it turned out at all. So today, as promised, my recipe for chocolate chip cookies and a story about bees.

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Mythbusting

With trepidation and not without good reason after what I endured last October, I head down the steps that lead to the orchard to visit our bees. The fuzzy little insects who I hope have quietly clustered themselves to keep warm and protect their respective queens. The top of the steps by the laurel hedge, under the wiry wisteria, is where last autumn, on two occasions in one week I was to be found flapping my arms and pacing around in circles like a man possessed, trying desperately to disrobe from my bee suit; the first time as a small number of rather angry workers had invaded my veil and had decided to try to sting my face, the second time as I’d been pursued by a dozen or so sentries who had taken exception to my visit and had chased me away.

It is said that if angry bees follow you, it is best to then walk (hide) in amongst some low trees and bushes as it confuses the bee’s sense of navigation and they will leave you alone. That they won’t follow you into the undergrowth.

This is not true.

This is complete rubbish.

They are perfectly able to follow you and will do so to prove that point, and they will continue to try to sting you. In fact, they’re very good at manipulating fabric and they can push themselves close enough to your skin to pierce it.

I’m placing a lot of faith that today will be different.