A man, writer, sat outside a 41-year\nold RV, a union-made Winnebago with an 8-track player. The RV doesn’t\ndrive anymore, but he always seemed to drive somewhere interesting in\nhis mind when writing inside it. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a sunny morning and the man\nsipped coffee, wondering about lost friends and lost loves. A morning\ncan do that to him sometimes. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A bee buzzed by. Then another. More\nbees. He recognized them as honey bees. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He followed their flight and saw them\nhover above the hood of the rig and then find their way around two\nOregon license plates he’d placed on the windshield for decoration.\nHe stood up for closer inspection and roused the bees from what he\nsurmised was a hive somewhere behind the license plates and where the\nwindshield met the body of the rig. They were making honey inside the\nRV! \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His first thought: oh shit<\/em>, I’ve\ngot to hose or smoke them out. I can’t have a beehive in there. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man’s neighbor joined him and\nsuggested some death spray. The neighbor quickly retrieved a can and\nthe man held it with his hand for a second and then handed it back to\nhim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No way. He’d given up that kind of\nthing two decades ago. He’d talked ants out of the kitchen. He’d\nasked mice to leave the closet. He’d told deer to lay off the garden.\nHe’d encouraged moles to make molehills. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n It always works. Try it. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man returned to his coffee and\nwatched the bees work. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some months from now, he will attempt\nto harvest honey from the RV. He has no idea how to do it, but he’ll\nfind an old book that will teach him. He plans on making some\ncornbread for the occasion, buttering it up, and then slathering it\nwith the RV honey, Oregon RV honey. \n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A man, writer, sat outside a 41-year old RV, a union-made Winnebago with an 8-track player. The RV doesn’t drive anymore, but he always seemed to drive somewhere interesting in his mind when writing inside it. It was a sunny morning and the man sipped coffee, wondering about lost friends and lost loves. A morning […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5319,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5318","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5318","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5318"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5318\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5321,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5318\/revisions\/5321"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5319"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5318"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5318"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5318"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}