My secret life as a Beekeeper

Published on 13 November 2011

I. Was. An . Apiarist. No, I wasn’t a monkey tamer. I was a beekeeper. When I was a kid, my step-brother and I lived on the same street as Canberra’s (only) beekeeping shop. It was a ‘garage business’ because… well… people don’t rush out to become beekeepers. Not a big demand. In fact, we were named Canberra’s Young Beekeepers of the Year. We were the only contenders. Most members of the Beekeepers Association of ACT were 50+ years old.

Years ago, design and beehives weren’t familiar bedfellows. I guess there wasn’t a Steve Jobs-like figure to reinvent the industry. But check out this cool concept by Phillips for an urban hive. Awesome.

After the apocalypse, get in touch with me. Whilst doctors and hunters will be perceived as possessing the most important skills to survive a zombie plague, I’m your man if you need honey. Even the cannibals will seek my expertise, I’m sure. Now I realise I haven’t tended to bees in a couple of decades but, hey, it’s like riding a bike. Just a matter of jumping back in the saddle and pedalling, right?

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