Alive! Alive! Alive! Dead.

-Posted by Isaac

What a wild weather month January has turned out to be.

We had some decent sledding:

Even a chairlift of sorts:

And then it got warm.
And muddy. It's hard to get to a bee yard in the mud. So I neglected a decent opportunity for feeding.

I went out for a run at dark last Sunday evening. Slipped, got all wet and muddy, and trudged on for forty minutes thinking about how much I hate Ohio weather. Right on cue, it started to rain. Then pour. Sideways. It's like Ohio heard my thoughts. Another forty minutes rolled slowly by, I returned home soaked and shivering in a 36 degree stiff wind. The temp. was barreling down!
Next morning: here's the view from our porch door-

Gotta love it.
"Polar Vortex" was a new concept to me...

Time to grow the beard.

 The radio reported a wind chill of -35. My thinking during that brutal night was that we'd be lucky to have any live bees at all.
I was afraid to check hives.

But we had our own survival to worry about. It was just cold enough to think about firewood again. Another oak at Crown Hill Golf Course. This one we had to strap up:

Of course Justin didn't want to use his pretty truck.

 Here's why:

The tree was only twelve feet from the edge, and leaning out over #13 green. We thought we should probably steer clear of dropping it right on the green. Hole in one!
Frozen ground, frozen feet, frozen fingers...
Was the strap long enough?

"If your gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough."

 I drove, closed my eyes...  and timber!
Had a good twenty feet to spare. No problem.
This tree, with it's crashing fall, even helped us in the job of cutting firewood.

So, two trucks loaded with good solid oak, I got up my courage to run across the #14 fairway and check a bee yard. Braced myself for the worst.
A cold but pleasant surprise-- out of twelve hives only two had succumbed to the bitter temps. I'm amazed at the fortitude of bees. And I'm probably to blame for the two dead. This was one of the yards that I left too light. They were out of food. I use a paper towel to hold the feed patty. You can see the hives below, fed December 3rd, had left little trace of that food.

So good to see you!

It was time to head out with some feed.
I made it around to five bee yards the next day, checking hives, feeding when needed. I continued to be surprised and amazed. The bees were hanging tough. This shows the loss in a typical yard:

12 of 16 still alive.

 A typical loss in a non-typical winter.  But we've still got a long way to go.
In the truck is the day's worth of dead-outs.

 Today we topped our wild week off with a brunch visit to one of our favorite eats:

Knead Urban Diner sources most all their food locally. 

Their famous Mother Clucker chicken sandwich has a honey-sweet flavor that jumps out with every bite. Wonder where all that honey comes from?

A quick thought on consumption

Isaac and I had the opportunity to take a "market date" last Saturday, where we hired a babysitter and both got to go to the Worthington market together to sell our products.  Afterwards, we had lunch at Northstar Cafe', where they place thought-provoking quotes on their order number cards.  I enjoyed our quote.  

 What a great quote for the sociologist at heart.  The truth is, I don't always make the best choices about the food I buy.  But I want to do better.  Better doesn't always mean spending more money or going out of the way to buy exclusive food items.  But it certainly means a commitment to less processed food and convenience food - committing to a diet of more raw and natural food.  We sell honey at farmer's markets every weekend, meaning it is actually pretty easy for us to source our food locally from farmers we know and trust.  But it is often more tempting to visit the Kroger next door to carbo-load on macaroni and other foods my kids easily accept.  This quote challenges me to work harder to consider the long term consequences of my daily food choices.  If I want a better food system, it starts with me... the choice I make each morning at breakfast, again at lunch, and though-out the day.

We are often asked...


"Is your farmstand open in the winter?"  


Why yes, we are open year round... come on out and use the honor system.  Honey doesn't freeze so there is no need to worry about that.  The weather is currently ---4 degrees, so please wear warm clothes- the farmstand is not heated.  :-)  Stay warm!

A Christmas Rant with Handel

-Posted by Isaac

I'm not a big fan of Christmas.

My family and my poor wife know this all too well so I try to keep my complaints subdued to only once or twice an hour: 

The ridiculousness of it all, the mad rush, the travel, the nasty weather (it's never white!), the infinite Christmas cards, the fake laughs, non-funny jokes and surface conversation, the family stress, the family expectations, the family..., the dumb songs and thoughtless shows, the sugared-up bratty kids, the marital stress (I'll take partial blame for that one.), the intermittent churchiness, the pretend reverence, the insane consumerism (it's ok if you're buying honey), the rabid materialism, the nutty trends, the stupid fashions, the stampede of  plastic throw-away toys, the expense, the let-down, the endless thank-you letters...

(Ok. Done for this hour.)

It's just too easy. Christmas Time-- the target is big and fat, the prey is slow. Too easy to be a cynic about  Christmas. Especially for a naturally gifted complainer like myself.

So I'm not going to go that route with this post.

Instead, I'll try to do what most of you manage to do every year: find true holiday joy and love in spite of the annual Christmas misery. I'm going to give you some uplifting music,

(Yes, Fredric Handel!)

and I'm going to tell you the non-cynical Christmas truth: I feel extremely blessed to have three healthy beautiful children, a fourth on the way, a lovely, gracious and patient wife, a wonderful extended family, and a thriving small business. Many loyal customers I've gotten to know over the years, many more I've yet to meet. Thanks to all of you. Christmas Time just magnifies all of this. Truth.

Early December 25th: and they're off...

Days later:

assembly required...

The long view: I'm so happy that we live in a place and that we were born in a notch of time where complaining about overabundance is even possible. It's truly a charmed life.

Breakfast at Grandma's.

Grandpa sweetens things up

We live like kings and queens... yet we're just average people. What a moment in history! The season helps to burn this realization into me.

We arrived at home on Christmas eve to find:

There truly is a Santa Claus!

 I know just who this is from... and I'm thinking I'll start a future Honey and Beer blog post with the story of our little Christmas tradition. Stay tuned!

The extended Barnes Christmas:

57 family members at my brother's place. Wow!

 I'm not overly smart or gifted or talented. Pretty much average. Yet I (we all, to some degree) have it so good. Luck? I can't help but feel lucky. And even through the cynicism, I can't help but feel Christmassy.

Ah, Christmas in the Midwest.

The adult gifts: jam and honey

The kid gift exchange. Some years bring tears. This year it went pretty smooth.

Back home:

"It's official: I'm a princess!"

"It's official: I'm bored." "Dumb horses."

All New for Christmas!

-Posted by Isaac

The little elves have been busy at Honeyrun Farm.

Too busy to bother with shoes

We've got two new items to show you.
Just in time for you last minute Christmas shoppers.
Cinnamon honey and a four pound granulated honey.

The 13 ounce granulated honey has always had its niche following at the farmers markets, but now seems to be getting very popular at the Hills Market Downtown and Whole Foods.
When Jayne and I were exploring the Missoula market last summer we came across a beekeeper with a beautiful and artsy display. The focal point being an eye catching large glass jar with water white knapweed honey on its way to granulation. With that in mind, we thought we'd try something gifty and artsy ourselves. Here it is (above). Same granulated summer honey but more attractive and a lot more of it!

The other new item isn't exactly new. Some of you who made it to the Lithopolis Honeyfest will remember the granulated cinnamon honey we had out. Or maybe you missed it... it sold pretty fast.
Well we finally got a sharp new label:

Here it is!

This is wonderfully rich honey. Thick and spreadable, great on the morning toast. Over the years, quite a few people have asked for a raw honey / cinnamon mix... for a variety of health reasons. We plan on having this as a permanent fixture at the markets and on Etsy. I'll soon be approaching the grocery stores. Hopefully most of them bite on it and give us a little more shelf space.

 This Saturday (12/21) is the last market before Christmas. Last year at this time on my snowy and dark way up to Worthington, I skidded the car right through a fence, down a ditch and out into the field. Still made it in time for market, although the car and my mental state were a little worse for the wear. My dear wife won't let that happen again. Jayne is coming with me this Saturday. We're making it a "date." One of us will get to walk around sampling the awesome baked goods while the other (non-pregnant one) works.

So Merry Christmas, and...

We'll see you there!

Leopold by the Fireside

-Posted by Isaac

Cold week on the bee farm.

I guess we've almost had an all-time record year for snowfall in December. I took the kids sledding this week on a rare pre-Christmas snow day. It was 11 degrees when we took to the slopes.
Wondering how the bees were faring the cold, I walked right over to the ridge:

Burning through the food! These hives were fed a sugar patty on November 7th. You can see that this particular hive has nearly finished it. I took too much fall honey from this yard and I'll be working to keep the girls alive the rest of the winter.

I'm often asked what the bees do all winter. Hibernate? Migrate?
Well, neither really... unless the beekeeper is set up to migrate. (Maybe we'll be there someday. I could use some Florida about now.)
What bees do is cluster. They form a tight ball around the frames and vibrate their wing muscles to produce heat. To do this they need food. Ideally plenty of honey. I've had to feed patties to about a fourth of our hives. I'll continue feeding until the days warm and the pollen returns. Seems like a long way off.

I'm never asked what a beekeeper does all winter, or how a beekeeper stays warm... but I'm going to tell you anyway.

I like wood heat.
Sure, the furnace works, but in my opinion the radiant stove is far superior.
As Jayne showed you in her last post, we've improved on our cave, but I hope we never give up on our good trusty fire in the living room.

Bees go foraging for their wintertime heat source and so do we... but we forage all winter.
This week my brother and I launched our efforts on this mighty old oak at Crown Hill Golf Course.

Oak makes some of the best firewood. I've watched this tree slowly die over the years, having grown up just a mile away. I ran past it almost daily the years I worked on the course, knowing its heat would probably warm me one day.
Sure enough, December 11th it met the chainsaw.

When I'm into cutting wood or sometimes simply reading by the fire, I like to think of Aldo Leopold:

“There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing that breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.” 
― Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac

If you haven't read A Sand County Almanac, please, check it out. It's one of my favorites. Leopold chronicles the year in his beloved Sand County and his February essay is titled Good Oak.

He expounds on his thoughts, cutting into an old tree, remembering the many years and historical events occurring during the tree's life; the sunlight collected, later to be returned as heat energy from the fire.

"If one has cut, split, hauled, and piled his own good oak, and let his mind work the while, he will remember much about where the heat comes from, and with a wealth of detail denied to those who spend the weekend in town astride a radiator."

About 160 years old. Maybe a Union soldier stumbled by this young sapling.

Four loads of firewood have so far come from this old white oak. At least three more will come out of the mighty trunk. It warms me this very moment as I write next to the fire.

I'll leave you with Leopold's finishing paragraph:

"These things I ponder as the kettle sings, and the good oak burns to red coals on white ashes. Those ashes, come spring, I will return to the orchard at the foot of the sandhill. They will come back to me again, perhaps as red apples, or perhaps as a spirit of enterprise in some fat October squirrel, who, for reasons unknown to himself, is bent of planting acorns."