Sons of a Barber, keepers of bees.
SOB stands for Sons of a Barber. The other read — the one most people land on first — is half the joke. The real one is that this is a family thing: my sons and I, building something together with our name on it. SOB is the umbrella for everything we do as a family, and Honey is the first project we took all the way through.
None of this happens without my bee mentor (you know who you are — thanks for all you've done). For five years I'd ask him for a swarm and he'd tell me, “You're just not ready. You're just not ready.” Then one day he showed up in my yard, set a box down on the center block, and said:
These bees have chosen you, and you're gonna do great.
That was the start. From there we pushed hard — this year alone we've caught ten-plus swarms and we're nearly at twenty hives in the yard.
Every jar is raw, unfiltered, and small-batch — pulled from our own colonies, never blended with anything you didn't ask for. We don't pasteurize. We don't cut with corn syrup. We don't ship in from somewhere we can't pronounce. What you get is what came out of the comb, strained, and sealed the same week. That's the whole pitch.
