My Story & the Farm

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A field with trees and grass in the distance.
A woman standing in front of some grass

I was born and raised in Apex and grew up in the house where we now live. There is rich history here and it’s easy to appreciate all God has given us.

We originally moved to this house when I was 6.  It’s on 30 acres of rolling land with a pond, and was surrounded by tobacco fields. It was told that our grandmother played here as a child.

My parents raised hog, cattle, chickens & bees. We baled hay and worked in tobacco every summer.  Once a year, the family would slaughter and process our own meat. Aunts, Uncles and cousins came to help, it was a family event. We had pig pickin's and shin-digs – fixings from our own crops & herds.  This was a whole community celebration.  As a kid, I hated parts of it, but I can look back and appreciate the long gone-by days where it was just how it was done.

We attended Olive Chapel Church, just around the corner.  Everyone knew each other and we all shared the bounty of our summer crops.  It was the place where we visited each other when someone was sick, had a baby or someone passed away.

That’s how we lived.

After college, I moved to Florida to pursue my career in horticulture.  I got married and became a mom.  But Apex was always my home.

When dad got sick, we sold the house in Florida and moved back home to help out. It was dad’s final months and what a blessing to be here and have that time.

It was so good to be back. We never left.

The Christmas after Dad passed away, mom thought I should follow in his footsteps.  So, she gifted me a nuc of bees. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but took a course through Wake County Beekeepers Association and got to work. Of course, it was just a little hobby.

However, I felt a strong obligation to continue the tradition of my family. It was my turn to try my hand at farming. My options were wide open. Dad had all the equipment I’d need for almost any endeavor – albeit it was from the 70’s; full of rust and scuffs, it could still get the job done. Thus, I dubbed us ‘Vintage Farm’.

I considered growing crops, attempted gardening and raising goats, but I lacked passion enough to invest the time nor the energy.  

As one thing led to another, I continued to keep bees.  Eventually, I joined a local beekeepers association and became a certified beekeeper. The more I did, the more I enjoyed it. It became my passion; the number of hives began to multiply, and so began my journey.

I love sharing what I’ve learned, helping others appreciate our community and making the most of what God has given us.

What started out as a single nuc of bees has grown into over 20 hives and revived a small farm.

This is my home. My heart is here. I am a beekeeper. Let me share what I have, with you!

A man riding on the back of an orange tractor.
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