don't forget the honey, Mummy

it has become a tradition that I always bring a pot of honey back from wherever I go on my travels. We all like honey and it's a great way of tasting the landscape and flowers of an area, so it's an ideal present really. Today we tasted Romania. It's quite nice but a bit dandeliony in the aftertaste.

The best honey in the world was, of course, the honey that got produced by bees on our apple trees and amongst the Pembrokeshire hedgerows as I was growing up. A few years ago I brought a pot of Pembrokeshire honey home (home from home?) for a bee-keeper I know here. He tasted a bit off a dunked finger and then nearly finished the pot, licking the honey off his fingers and getting everyone else to taste too. He kept saying "they must have so many flowers!" over and over again. For him it was clear that the place I come from must be beautiful because the honey was so good!

One day, when I am grown up and much, much braver, I want to keep bees so we have our own honey.