Ouch!

A few days back Farmer Husband and I took the honey supers off the beehives.  We got 70 frames of beautiful, sweet, delicious golden honey from the hives. (About 240 pounds of honey!)  I'm still draining the wax cappings for our honey enjoyment but everything else in the extracting process has been completed.

Well.... almost.  An unexpected healing process has become necessary.

Yesterday afternoon, after I returned from some errands and responsibilities (and a fun lunch with a good friend!), I placed the now empty, but sticky and wet with honey supers on the Gator to return them to the bees for clean up.  The bees usually quickly fix the hexagonal wax compartments that were damaged in the extracting process, move the honey that was still on the frames, and then begin to collect more nectar for refilling.  Typically, the bees are mostly friendly and gentle (like the picture above).  Usually, putting the supers back on a hive is a relatively uneventful process.  One doesn't even need smoke.  You simply crack the top open, remove the telescoping cover and place the wet super on top.  Replace the cover making sure that the top entrance block is still in place and move on to the next.  Simple.

But yesterday it was quite warm (86 degrees).  But worse than the heat was the very sticky, oppressive humidity.  Perspiration was dripping down my back, my tummy, my nose... I s'pose I didn't smell too nice.  And perhaps the bees remembered that I (with the help of Farmer Husband) had just stolen all their early summer's work.  I'm not certain.  But what I am certain of was that one particular hive was most unwelcoming.

It was our biggest hive in the spring.  We split it three times.  But it was still big.  It produced almost a third of the honey that we extracted.  And we only had one super to put on top when we took their honey.  So imagine sixty thousand relatives in a big house.  All of a sudden the house becomes smaller.  The cupboards are bare.  The temperatures go up.  The humidity makes collecting food stores unpleasant.  And it's time for the house bees to make orientation flights around the hive.  Introduce a wet, smelly intruder who looks an awfully lot like the robber from two days ago.  What would you do? 

Yes... and they did.

As soon as I cracked open the hive the buzzing frequency changed.  That should have warned me.  And actually it did but I thought, "I'll just quickly put the super on and move to the next one.  They'll settle down as soon as they get more room and honey."

That's not quite what happened.  Recall that I didn't bring the smoker.  Usually the smoker masks the alarm pheromone that a bee would make.  That way, if a bee shouts "Intruder!" no one really knows or cares.  One alarmed bee is nothing.  Hundreds of alarmed bees is another thing...

They pelted my suit. Bounced off my bee net.  Curled up in a tight balls trying to get their stinger into some flesh.  Four of them penetrated my suit at the left knee.  The burning sensation of a bee sting is most unpleasant.  And it keeps going until you get the stinger(s) out.  So I needed to retreat.  Time to go get the smoker.

After walking three hundred yards away from this most unpleasant hive I discovered that I had at least forty stingers in my gloves, arms, legs and chest suit.  They were serious.  This intruder was not going to get access to the hive.  Thankfully, only the four had penetrated the suit. 

I got the stingers out without difficulty.  Redonned the bee suit and lit the smoker with some coals from the outdoor wood burning furnace.  I didn't want to go back to the hive. I was a bit scared.  I'm not used to bees purposefully defending their hive against me.  They are usually gentle. But I had to go back.  The lid was opened.  The empty super was on the ground next to them. And I needed to button the hive up.  So off I went.

I smoked all the stingers in my suit and gloves trying to mask the alarm pheromone.  I smoked the hive until it almost looked like a fire.  They were still upset but not as bad.  And I was able to relatively quickly get the hive placed back together.  I had only one hive to go.  They too were a little unfriendly but the smoker helped and I was quick to return to the house.  I peeled off the wet sweaty bee suit, drank about a half gallon of water and placed some 2.5% hydrocortisone that my Farmer Husband uses for poison ivy on my left knee.  Today, the knee is still a little red and puffy but will be just fine.  And the bees?  We're leaving them alone for awhile. 

Lesson learned?  When dealing with bees in hot humid temperatures who have just lost their dinner and part of their home.... use smoke.

Today's Journey Joy - protective bee suits!

Wildflowers

In the busy-ness of summer it is refreshing to ponder.  To peer into the delicate lacework of so-called weeds.  The tiny white blooms of the wild carrot.  They decorate our unmowed fields in a carpet.  Without planting, without tending, without fertilizing, these beauties aspire to greatness.  And they achieve it.  Buzzing with various insects.  Highlighting other more colorful blooms.  A backdrop to the reds, blues, oranges, violet, and summer yellows.

Growing where much does not flourish. Chicory opens when the beams of golden sunshine warm their petals.  Rain and dark skies keep these jewels hidden. Yet, they too, speckle our farm with beauty.  Another so-called weed bringing color and beauty to the fields.

Wildflowers.  Blooming where they are.  Content and flourishing in their environment. 

Do they say, "I wish I had that great soil over here"?  "When I have more room (perhaps referring to time) I will bloom in plenty"? 

But I often do.  Hesitating to bloom.  Struggling against the other weeds instead of thriving where I am.  Forgetting that contentment is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.

In my wildness of a day, filled with competing priorities and tasks, may I continue to bloom in whatever color and size my Creator designed me to be.

Today's Journey Joy - Wild blooms 

Sweeter than honeycomb

It's late July. The bees have multiplied, increased, and become very productive.  They were split many times this spring to prevent them from swarming.  Swarming takes about half the bees from the hive as they try to find and establish a new home.  It's natural.  To leave the hive.  Go out into the big world.  It's how bees multiply hives.  Start afresh.  Unfortunately, swarms tend to be high in a tree.  And their timing is usually inconvenient.  Hot, humid, high in a tree.....The idea of half of a hive flying away is just so..... sad.   My wonderful husband usually has to don the beekeeping suit, get raised in the loader bucket, and recapture them. (I do the tractor loader raising.)

But this year we only had to do swarm retrieval once, very early in the season, as opposed to last year which felt like at least twenty times.  We made several smaller hives through the splits and apparently squelched the swarming instinct in our hives.  So much nicer. 

The hives were given lots of room to grow.  I also did not use queen excluders this year.  I was afraid that we would get lots of baby bees (brood) in the honey supers.  And in fact we did get a few.  But the excluder in the past seemed to keep the bees away or out of the honey supers (where they store their honey).  But by eliminating the excluders, giving the bees both a top and bottom entrance to enter their hives, and having lots of room... well, we didn't get any summer swarms.  And we got lots of honey.  In fact, this is our second harvest of the season.  And we should get a third in September.  That's definitely worth rejoicing.

Yesterday, around three in the afternoon, my wonderful farmer's husband and I harvested the honey supers from our hives.  Some of the hives were still too small to make extra honey. Thankfully, they have time to grow strong before winter.  But the big hives had plenty of full honey supers.  I used some Fisher's Bee Quick ( an almond smelling liquid that apparently the bees do not like) on a fume board to push the bees into the hive and out of the honey supers.  Then, if there were any stragglers in the super, Farmer Husband would gently blow them out of the super with a leaf blower.

We brought the honey filled supers to the house via the Gator and placed them in the basement where our honey extracting is set up.  It was dinner time when we finished bringing the honey downstairs.  So we started the dehumidifier, put a lid on the stacked supers, and ate tacos.  Today, I hope to extract the honey.  Until then, our house smells like golden sweet honey. Very pleasant.

It's hard to imagine anything sweeter than honey in the honeycomb....

"Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body." (Proverbs 16:24).

Honey is nutritious, sweet, and healthful.  Are my words?  Unfortunately, my words can be more like the bee than the honey.  Buzzing, busy, and biting (well, stinging....).   Ouch.

O, may my language, my choice of words and my tone be like honey today.  Sweet, sticky, warm and helpful. Not only will this be good for those I speak with today.... but sweet to my soul as well.

Honey.  Life sustaining.  Sweet and appealing.  Good for my soul.

Today's Journey Joy - Fresh warm honey and gracious words

Metamorphosis

Anticipation and longing fills my heart today.  To be changed.  From every fiber and bone in my body.  To be made fresh.  To fly.  To flit.  To display the beauty meant to be.

I am but a caterpillar.  A soft, sometimes colorful worm-like creature.  Content on eating and being.  Enjoying the environment.  Going through life with fellow caterpillars.  Creeping and crawling from one adventure to another. The freedom of flight is a hazy idea.  A longing.  But seemingly impossible.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" (2 Corinthians 5:17).

As a believer in Christ the chains to being forever a caterpillar are broken.  A metamorphosis has occurred. And the hope and promise of forever flight is available.  In reality, I am a beautiful, thankful, life-embracing swallowtail.  A golden butterfly changed from the worm-like creature I once was.

And still I forget sometimes.  I see myself through old eyes.  The inner-mirror reflects the green, white and yellow stripes of my crawling self.  I return to the life of familiar crawling because it is known and comfortable. Creeping through the summer days from leaf to leaf.  Forgetful of my wings of freedom. 

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free...." (Galatians 5:1a). 

Remember your delicate, wonderful wings my fellow believers.  See the beauty in the carpet of wild flowers.  Embrace the wind.  Wrap your longing arms around those who flit around with you.  Give grace and love to the caterpillars who yet need to morph.

And fly today.

Today's Journey Joy - New life

Brrruck-a-cluck-er

We started our chicken raising three summers ago.  Fifty straight run Buff Orpingtons under heat lamps in the basement.  They lived in the basement for...oh too long.  When they started hopping up the stairs into the kitchen they were unceremoniously extricated to the almost finished chicken house.  The twenty five or so roosters were taken to the poultry processors in the fall leaving only one rooster.  But he was a mean-ol-rooster and so he was replaced with a new rooster.  Last year we received about twenty various colors of baby chicks.  And this year we received some more.  They were hatched in the third grade classroom.  But since only about half were hens we decided to increase our flock with more baby chicks.  We ordered twenty five Partridge Rocks.  They are currently in the garage (thankfully not the basement) getting bigger.  In a few weeks they will join the others in the "big house".  Our original hens will go to the processor this fall.  They will be a little tough being that they are almost three years old, but they will be good for stew and soups. 

I will admit that I am a little torn about taking them.  Probably too sentimental.  But they were our first hens.  And they have done a great job at producing beautiful brown eggs.  I've been selling them at the farmer's market and to neighbors.  There's nothing like a free-range chicken laying lovely brown eggs.  The yolks are almost orange and the flavor is exceptional.

Today I'm thankful for our hens... all of them.... in their various colors, shapes, ages, sounds and sizes. We now have spotted eggs, dark and light brown eggs and about three green eggs every day.  A rainbow of colors. So beautiful.  Hopefully, our new chickens will add even more color to our egg basket.

Today's Journey Joy - Hens

July's Garden Adventures

Sugar Baby Pumpkins for pumpkin pie making.

It's garlic powder makin' time.

Rocambole "Music" Garlic.

Pumpkin Blooms

The sweet corn ripening in the field drifts an aroma of delight and anticipation.  It fills my olfactory sense with delight and reminds me of summer's past.  Childhood festivals.  Family reunions.  Bubbling water on the stove.  Butter oozing through the stack of hot corn.  Stripping husks and peeling silk.  Salt... just enough.  Faces full of corn pieces and buttery fingers and cheeks. Finger licking and full tummies.

The cherry and grape tomatoes remain hard and green.  But promise of yellow, golden and red delights are in the future.  Picking jewels of sweetness from the vines.  Almost as good as berries.

Blackberries ripening. Juicy, sweet and yummy.

And yellow string beans.  Lost in the weeds and yet bearing beautifully. Exceptionally colorful.

Today's Journey Joy - July's harvest

A Day of Reflection

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:29-30).

The day is full before I even begin.  Laundry washing and pegging on the line.  Chicken feeding.  Japanese beetle trap emptying.  Animal watering.  Baby partridge rocks.  Broccoli snipping.  Bean picking.  Onion pulling.  Summer squash amongst the weeds.  Washing dishes.  Washing produce.  Loading the vehicle for the market.  Ice making.  A shower please.  Ninety degree temps with high humidity. Library run.  Five hour farmers market.  Return home.  Unpack vehicle.  Prepare for tomorrow's interview and presentation.  Supper.  Shower again please...

But those are only activities.  Stuff to do.  Not a person to be.  Today I chose to focus not on the many things filling the day but the wonder and joy of remembering the past and experiencing the present.

Green grass, leaves, plants.  Plenty of rain.  Good earth.  Fruiting raspberries.  Purple beans.  Dark red norland new potatoes.  Sterling white onions.  Free range chickens. Mr. Two-Toes and Mr. Bard Rock (MBR for short).  Ten fluffy kittens.  Half a million happy nectar-collecting bees.  A home with air conditioning.  A family of love.  A creative and enterprising son.  A fun-loving, present-living daughter. A wise, hard working, supportive and loving husband.  Friends who know when to tell me to take a break.  A teaching job at a local university.  Opportunities for tenure.  Pursuit of doctorate education.  Learning. Growing.  Hawks soaring just for the fun of it.  Horse weed nine feet tall.  Lawn mowers and tractors.  Clothes flapping on the line. Rest.  New friends at the market.  Freedom. New life.  New joy.

"There is a joy in  the journey.  There is a light we can love on the way.  There is a wonder and wildness to life.  And freedom for all who obey." (Michael Card).

Today's Journey Joy - wonder and wildness of the yoke of Christ

To Break The Cycle

I'm still impressed.  Twigs planted in the dampness of spring. Rains and sun nourishing throughout the summer.  Leaves bursting forth verdant green.  Transforming to brilliant fire engine red in autumn.  And finally returning to twig form in the crispness of winter.  To start the amazing cycle again.  This time heavy with fruit.

But now the young blueberries are beneath grass and perennial weeds.  Japanese beetles attack.  And I have only so much time and energy.  I cannot keep up.  What will happen to our wonderful blueberry field?  It can not be good for them.  To be so choked and suppressed.  They have completed their fruit bearing but they need to keep growing for next year.

That's why we have decided to take back the field... with synthetics. (That's a nice way of saying "chemicals").  I feel as though I failed.  My dreams are larger than my time and energy.  Certainly not larger than my effort, for I put hours and hours in the humid hot heat of our Midwest summer sun.  Bent over with hoe in hand and weeds ripping from soil left in a heap to be mowed into mulch.  But the grass is close to seeding.... to repeat their annual seeding.  And the field is large. Those weeds which are too tall or old to succumb to the chemical will be yanked and destroyed manually. 

We will return to natural practices as soon as the cycle is broken.

Journey Joys - It's hard to express the "journey joy" today.  I am thankful that there are chemicals that can help.  And yet I am torn between my strong desire to grow naturally without chemicals and my strong desire to have a healthy productive field.  My husband and I have always said that we would follow organic farming as long as we could.  But if the crop was in danger of failing we would use chemicals.  We are at that point.  And yet I still feel.... discouraged. 

The Nemesis of Gardening

I love tilling the earth, mowing the grass, picking flowers and collecting fresh fruits and vegetables.  I enjoy sharing the fruits of our labors with those at the Farmers Market.  I like to think that they appreciate the hard work and time and energy that goes into each product that they purchase.

But gardening is a constant struggle.  My two worst insect pests are Japanese beetles and squash beetles.  Followed by cucumber beetles and cabbage moths.

We try to collect the beetles. We collect hundreds and maybe thousands of these nasty destructive beetles.  I dip them in cold water for a few minutes and then give them to the chickens to gobble.  But they continue to reproduce and damage the crops.  They seem to particularly like blueberry and raspberry plants and my cherry trees.  So the "big guns" need to come out.  That is, Neem oil.  It is an organic and OMRI approved insecticide and fungicide that doesn't really kill the little buggers but makes it so the leaves are not very tasty.  That helps protect the blueberries.

But spraying 1200 blueberry plants takes an amazingly long time.  And a lot of Neem oil.  It took 16 gallons of the stuff to spray the whole field.  And it was hot and heavy work.  The backpack sprayer holds four gallons.  But between the backpack and the water / Neem oil it felt like the whole contraption weighed fifty pounds.  My shoulders were not prepared for such heavy work.

The Neem oil also works relatively well on the squash.  Not as good on the broccoli because of the oil.  The leaves of broccoli do not seem to respond to the insecticide like the squash and blueberry plants do.  So I use Bt on them.  It too is an organically approved insecticide.  But it kills larvae not adults.

But pesty insects are not the only thing a gardener has to deal with.  As you could see from the pictures above.... weeds.  I seem to spend most of my time and energy on pulling or preventing weeds.  But this should be reduced now.

My wonderful and creative husband made a contraption that collects the grass while one is mowing. He mows the grass and it is sucked up through the vacuum and blown into this really neat collecting area that he built specifically for this.  The top and 1/4 of the sides are made out of hardware cloth so air can flow.

On its first voyage my husband filled the trailer to capacity.  (Forgive the sun spots on the photo please).  It's neat seeing the different layers and types of grass he's collected.  After he dumps it out (it's a dump trailer as well) I fork it up and spread it no thicker than 2 inches on the just weeded plants.  I can't put more on at this point because the grass is green and will mold.  But even at two inches the sun is blocked and the weeds cannot grow.  After a few days I'll go ahead and put another 2 inches on.  That will definitely keep the weeds down.  But I have a lot of weeding to do to catch up. 

Next year we should be able to keep on top of the weeds now that we have this suck-u-phrazt attached to the mower.  I'm very excited about the possibilities.  Perhaps I'll have some time to actually work on my flower garden.

Today's Journey Joy - A Very Creative Husband

Learning to Love Bees

I have to admit that when we decided to have bee hives on our farm I was quite apprehensive.  The idea of purposefully keeping stinging insects... well that just seemed a little crazy.  I don't like getting stung.  The area swells great big and my tummy feels nauseous. 

But I have come to appreciate these hard workers.  They gather pollen and nectar for their family (even if it is a very large one).  They clean house.  They babysit.  They guard.  They keep the hive warm in the winter and cool in the summer.  They are usually not aggressive towards others.  You mind your own business and they will mind theirs.

This year we started with eight hives that survived the winter.  We had the usual ten to twenty percent hive loss.  One simply died because it ran out of honey stores.  Another hive was just empty.  So as the spring temperatures warmed we split the bigger hives.  Some of them two or three times.  So now we have 15 hives (along with a swarm I collected and brought to a friend's farm). And as a result we have not been swinging in the trees chasing swarms.  We added many supers above the deeps and gave them a top and bottom entrance.  I am hoping that we did good work suppressing swarm activity and that it wasn't just a good year for "non-swarming".  But regardless, it has been a good year in the apiary.

I've been stung twice this year.  At the same time. It was my own fault.  The bees innocently climbed up my pant leg and when they couldn't get out they resorted to stinging.  Ouch!  But now I tuck my pant legs in my socks preventing that curious bee from investigating.  Last year I didn't get a single sting.  Well, not quite.  While I was weeding the green beans a teeny little native black bee was probably getting the salt off my back and when I stood up got trapped and stung me right on my gluteus!  Another ouch.  A pretty funny episode I'm sure.  Here's this lady weeding in a T-shirt and pants hitting her bottom and jumping all around.  Needless to say I now tuck my T-shirt in as well.

So I'm learning to love bees.... at least honey bees and big rumbly bumbles.  I'm still not too fond of wasps and hornets. But the others provide such great pollination and honey that I've developed a working and loving (?) relationship with them.  Perhaps it is a little nuts.  But it sure is amazing.  Now, when I see a honey bee flitting from flower to flower I stop and talk to her.  "Are you finding some good nectar my little one?" 

Perhaps I've spent too much time in the sun.... ☺

Today's Journey Joy - learning to love stinging insects

Weeds and the "One Thing"

Even weeds are beautiful.  They grow and bloom and reproduce.  They add nitrogen to the soil and keep the hard clay loose.  They prevent erosion.  They provide pollen and nectar.  Food for the bees.  Food for the birds.

But I don't look at weeds as beautiful most days.  In the process of growing strong they also choke the tiny plants I have so lovingly pressed into the soil.  The small seedlings sprout first but become quickly overwhelmed by the weedy biosphere in which they have been sown.  To pull the weeds often ends up pulling the small vegetables.  So I let them grow together... for awhile.  When the plants are strong enough to survive a disruption to their fragile roots, I pull and tug those weeds.  Yank them out with a ripping sound as the soil vibrates with their removal.  The path between the rows becomes covered in weed roots and tops.  But the vegetables survive.  Able to breathe and feed without competition.

I've been growing slowly amongst weeds these past days.  Overwhelmed with competing desires and needs.  A dirty home, piles of laundry, a chicken coop that needs cleaning and painting, weeding, mowing, building, feeding, sleeping, selling.  Imagining.  Picturing a world of completeness and beauty.  But working... working...working...

"And a woman named Martha welcomed him (Jesus) into her house.  And she had a sister called Mary who sat at the Lord's feet and listening to his teaching.  But Martha was distracted with much serving.  And she went up to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?  Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary...." (Luke 10:38-42).

When will I learn this?  To listen, absorb, embrace the Lord.  Only that one thing is necessary.  To be molded, transformed, filled with the character of Christ.  That is the one thing.  If I have accomplished numerous tasks throughout the day but have not listened, learned, and loved at the feet of Him who brings purpose and meaning to life, I am only distracted among the weeds.

Martin Luther once said, "Tomorrow I plan to work, work, from early until late. In fact I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer."

The one thing.  May you and I do the one thing, the necessary, today.

Today's Journey Joy - priorities among the weeds

Spring Blossom Honey

To extract honey several sticky steps are needed. One first must get the honey frames off the hives.  Sometimes the bees don't seem to mind.  At other times they are very determined to keep the beekeeper (honey-taker?) out of the hive.  Spring time is usually an easy time.  The bees are happily flying from blooming flower to blooming flower and returning pollen and nectar to the hive.  Most of the 30-60,000 bees in a hive are out working.  Usually only a few guard bees are present plus a hivefull of new baby bees.

After the honey frames are taken into the house it is time for extracting.  This spring, as soon as the frames were off the hives, we started uncapping the honey frames.  When bees have completed the amazing process of turning nectar into honey they seal the hexagonal storage unit with wax.  (A process that my mom copied when canning jelly and jams with paraffin wax.) So before we can put the frames into the extractor the seal must be removed.  We use an uncapping knife.  It's basically a stainless steel knife that is electrically heated to smoothly and easily melt through the wax, cutting off the seal and revealing the sticky, warm and amazingly wonderful smelling honey.

The honey oozes out of the cells.  This year's spring honey was a light to medium color with a slightly fruity, light and delicious flavor.

The wax is discarded into the uncapping tank to drip and collect the honey that was in the wax. But the now glossy honey frame is ready for the spinning of the extractor. Yum.

The honey supers are then returned to the hives. Usually the bees are quite happy to get their wet sticky honey frames back.  They quickly clean them, repair the wax that was damaged, and begin to refill the frames. 

This weekend we hope to get our second harvest from the hives.  The clover has been blooming well.  The wonderful smell of honey is drifting from the hives as we drive by.  It will be good to get a midsummer harvest of honey. 

Today's Journey Joy - warm honey

Fish in the sky?

This spring and early summer have been filled with gray skies, rainy days,thunder, lightening and wind.  Our gardens are filled with grass and weeds.  The tiller cannot get into the field.  My ankles sink deep.

Can fish fly? 

But the past five days have been filled with sunshine, dry air and cooler temperatures.  The soaked soil is drying and actually cracking in some places.  Today the tiller attacks the garden.  But unfortunately the mower will have to go first.  That's how bad it is.

I almost succumbed to chemicals.

How can I keep all these weeds out of the gardens?  They grow prolifically and choke the growth of the vegetables.  They harbor diseases and insects.  They have deep roots.  But there are only so many hours in a day.  And my forty-seven year old muscles can only pull so many weeds with my hoe and bent shoulders.

If this bluegill-looking fish can fly..... perhaps I can get some crops to grow organically.......

Well, I'll just do my best... because fish do not fly, and weeds don't jump out of the field by themselves, and vegetables need space to grow.  As do I.

Today's Journey Joy - reality check