Return of the Seth

-Posted by Isaac

Me again. Were you wondering what's happened to Jayne on these blog posts? I wondered the same thing for a while. I think there has been an unspoken compromise. She'll handle Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, email, magazine advertising, promotions, contests, give-aways and all the social correspondence that goes along with catching the interest of the vast majority.

For the very few of you fogies who still like to read something, I'll handle the blog. (Thus the title of this post. I thought maybe I could capture some of the nerd/geek/beek, Star Wars/Star Trek market.) 

I'm sure you'll see Jayne again if there's something important to say.

And let's get real, calling this reading is quite a stretch. Not that I'm apologizing for myself. I'll admit, I'm no Hemingway. But this is the best I can do. I'm apologizing for you. What are you thinking? Trying to broaden yourself with a bee blog?? The shame! Go pick up a book for Christ's sake! If you want to get a feel for commercial beekeeping, 'Old Man and the Sea' would be a good one.

And that brings me to this week's adventure. To save on shipping, I needed drive down and pick up a thousand deep frames in Kentucky-

But the darn GPS overshot Kentucky by 600 miles and landed this old man by the sea.

Smack on the Florida Emerald Coast to be specific. This is where I stayed.

If you look closely at the picture, behind the big ugly hotel and about a mile down the beach, there is a little green tent nestled in the pines. This is where I stayed.

The Emerald Coast happens to be the present residence of our long lost Seth. Remember bee man Seth? He's in the Air Force now. Defusing bombs.

At Eglin Air Force Base they have an armory museum with dozens of planes, helicopters, tanks, bombs, guns, and so on.

Seth demonstrated his expertise and politely explained that this bomb wasn't real.

"Not real."

And he also politely took me around the base. Here you see an SR-71 Blackbird. The fastest plane ever flown, topping 2000 mph. I had a model of one as a kid. Seth brought me to the real thing.

Home in half an hour?

But we didn't have time to mess around with the Air Force forever. After all, we were in the Sunshine state. And that called for a fishing trip.

We slayed 'em.       (mmm... not reallly)

Wait, did I say I'm no Hemingway? I take that back.

Now kids, I realize I'm not the most wholesome role model with that fat stogie between my teeth. But if you'll forgive me just this once, I only smoke cigars on special occasions. The special occasion being that it was offered to me.

That's right, kids. Your body is a temple. Remember that. 

And you can bet my temple is squeaky clean. I apply the same stringent guidelines to hard liquor and drugs.

So we spent two days defending our coastal waters against the insurgent threat of red and white snapper. On Monday it was back to class and drill sergeants for Seth. For me, if the GPS could get it right this time, I still had chores to attend to in Kentucky.

Darn GPS. It's expensive when they don't work right.

And expensive when they do.

February Pollen?

-Posted by Isaac

Last week I posted the following video on the Honeyrun Facebook page. It was all fuzzy, and I wondered whether it was my phone or Facebook that messed it up. Looks much better here.

Uploaded by Jayne Barnes on 2017-02-21.

That was just a few days ago. Now the maples have bloomed and there is much less interest in our little bird bath treat.

That's right, the maples! In February! I wish I had a photo for you, but the bees were all working high in the trees. I did however get a decent closeup of the pollen coming in. The maple pollen is the pale yellow.

But if you look closely you can see another bee with red on her legs. This is pollen from the purple dead nettle. 

Maple bloom and dead nettle bloom. February 20th. We're not talking Georgia. This is mid-Ohio! We've been walking around in t-shirts for the last week. Is something funny going on? Something unusual?

Or are we on our way to a forth consecutive record breaker!

The way it's looking, somebody better call Guinness. 

The Valentine's Shift

-Posted by Isaac

Happy Valentine's! Are you love birds ready for another captivating yet comical, cultivating yet sensual glimpse into the dim lit back rooms of the bee farm? Are you? Huh? Are you!!

That's what I thought!       (To borrow a phrase from our illustrious President Camacho.)

Well turn off the lights, close the doors, kick back with your valentine, grab your bottle of cheap wine, your expensive chocolates, your protection if necessary, and prepare to be aroused!

Cheap wine bottle(s) !!!     Dr. Love prescribed two.

But speaking of our illustrious president...  (Sorry to kill the mood so soon, but I've got a question) ...Speaking of our illustrious president, what's all this I keep hearing about the Trump Travel Band? Have you heard them? Are they any good? They seem all the rage on NPR. What's that? Yeah, on NPR. You know, NPR? Hello? Where the highly educated elite gather our daily news. Never heard of them? What?! Oh, never mind. It's way above you commoners anyway. Right over your heads. You tire me.

Back to the bee porn for you.

Man oh man, are they lookin' gooood!

Whooo hooo! Damn fine!

Now there's a nice piece of Apis!

This time of year we work our way into what I have termed the "Valentine's Shift." 

Write that down. "The Valentine's Shift." It's a phrase I coined, let me see... approximately five minutes ago.  It means we begin to turn our energies from winter projects to the more important spring tasks and preparations. Namely, bees. 

Back at the end of December I told you about all the truckloads of fill being dumped on the west side of the honey house-- winter project. Now we have a structure sitting on that fill and coming right along.

It's still not the most effective thing. Especially the roof. I got soaked in a rainstorm the other day.

Who the hell built this leaky thing?

But it is coming together. Eventually these winter projects seem to run their course. Between now and St. Paddy's Day, we close the book on winter and start thinking about that rush of spring pollen right about the corner. Just like St. Paddy's is synonymous with clovers and green beer, around here, spring is synonymous with bees. We've really got to focus and start thinking about all that green beer! Excuse me, I mean all those bees! Focus!

Not Irish.     So don't kiss me.

I'm referring to the Valentine's Shift. It has already begun.

In the photo above, I'm holding a nuc box. A baby beehive. Or, sorry, it will soon be a baby beehive when we put bees in there. This happens about the middle of April to be exact. But a nuc doesn't stay a baby for long. About the middle of June you've got yourself a big fat honey making hive. If you're interested in beekeeping and want buy a baby beehive (or a few hundred), we've got them! But you're in the wrong place, silly. Go to the home page and click on "Nucs For Sale." 

 We're putting together 400 of these things.

The table saw has been getting quite a workout during the Valentine's Shift. Between the new lean-to going up and the 400 nuc boxes, the thing has been screaming almost daily. Bridger loves it. He hauls literally truckloads of sawdust!

Some kids run toward the sound of an ice cream truck. Not this little sonofa blogger. He's got his own, let's say "rustic" acquired tastes. Oooh... What's that I hear? The noisy dangerous thing that throws dust!! Gotta go! See ya Mom...

But I digress. Let's shift back the other direction shall we?

After all, it is Valentine's Day, dontcha know?

Dontcha know? It takes a worried man to sing a worried song.

Bet you didn't think we could fancy up like this? Well, you obviously don't know your beekeepers in mid February.

My Valentine and I found ourselves at a "Luxury Party." Fraternizing with the elites. 

It was a sampling of sister Becky's glamorous friends. As you already know, wealthy produce farmers hang with a different crowd. NPR types. A comfortable fit for me. I spent the evening discussing international politics. Jayne however, had difficulties controlling herself and several times tried to pounce on me. Luckily the horderves could at times provide a distraction.

We partook of exquisite delicacies privy only to the elites.

So that's why the beekeepers were invited...

And for once we enjoyed adult conversation over adult beverages. No kids allowed!

It went late into the night.

"Yes Honey, these are in fact bedroom eyes. I'm sleepy as hell."

A fun little pre-valentines Valentine's date.

So I'm going to leave you lovers with a romantic old Jeff Lynne tune. Mainly because I like it. But I also think it's a good one to serenade you into your Valentine's soirees. I mean, maybe it can't compare with the Trump Travel Band, but it will have to suffice.

So take it easy. Take it slow. Make it last. This isn't some seedy red light picture show. This is the Valentine's Shift. We've got to take this good love all the way to St. Paddy's.

Do you really want to take it that far?

DO YA?

Rare promo clip of this song from A New World Record album 1976

I THINK YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY

WOMAN

The Big Game

-Posted by Isaac

(Photo credit to the hard working commercial beekeepers in the almonds.)

Every year about this time, the drama begins to unfold.

It's time for the big game.

The stakes are high. There's a lot on the line. 

And that's why we leave it to the professionals.

It's smash mouth. It's hard hitting. It's intense. And they love it.

They play in all kinds of weather.

The rain, the sleet, the snow.

They have perfected their craft. They make it look easy under the worst conditions.

Most often, game time is set for evening.

And they'll play right on through the night.

Under the lights.

A broken bone is not uncommon. Protective head gear has improved in recent years, but they still see a concussion now and then.

But these guys (and gals) are professionals. They can handle it.

To play at this level, you've got to be bigger,

Faster,

Stronger. 

And you've got to know your stuff. This is no place for amateurs.

Amateurs love to preach. They love to yammer, "One third of everything we eat is pollinated by blah blah blah....   Raw honey is good for blah blah.... and bees fly fifty trillion miles to make one ounce of blah blah blah... Einstein once said that if all the bees blah blah blah...."

The professionals quietly preform miracles and collect their paycheck.

This is February folks!

As stated, they know their stuff.

Sometimes they even give us a halftime show.

(Choreographed.)

It's an amazing thing. And it's happening right now. Two million hives pollinating the California almonds...

So that I can chew on some nuts during the game, watch Lady Gaga, and say, "You know, one third of everything we eat is pollinated by blah blah blah..."

How to produce speciality honey and lose money doing it.

-Posted by Isaac

This is kind of a filler blog post. We finally got our website fixed up for nuc sales, and I was searching for some cool bee pictures to load. In looking for pics that would fit on a nuc page, I stumbled across several shots from this year's trials and tribulations involving buckwheat honey. So we'll just talk about that.

As you know, honey can take many colors, flavors and forms.

With speciality honey, you can let the bees produce a varietal (tulip poplar, buckwheat), or you can add something to the honey itself (lavender, lemon verbena infused).  It's something different. Something interesting. A value added product, and it may just be a hit!

Five or six years ago, we decided to take the leap into producing buckwheat honey. A few people had asked about it and we were sort of curious too. It would definitely be something different-- rich, black, robust honey with almost the consistency of molasses. Plus, maybe, just maybe, people would be willing to pay a little more..

In order to produce buckwheat honey, you need buckwheat and you need bees. Lots of each! We've tried several routes in bringing the two together. We've hauled forty hives to Amish country, three hours north. We've rented twenty acres from my grain farming brother. We've used set-aside land from my produce farming sister.

And the results have been pretty good. Meaning, we've been able to produce enough buckwheat honey to keep it in stock. And make a little money in the process. It's not cheap renting ground and equipment, buying seed, moving bees, etc...

This year with the buckwheat, things took a turn for the worst.

It all started ok. I had my little farmer along to help.

We originally thought we were going to rent three small fields right where we live. Totaling 20 acres. It was going to be a breeze. The equipment was all right down the road at my brother's, and we wouldn't have to move a single hive. I'd just sit back and let the honey roll in.

But that idea got nixed right before planting season. Family politics? I don't know?

Instead, my brother said we could rent a small wet field five miles away. More expensive rent, no less. Boooooo!

But we decided to give it a go anyway. I figured that if I planted by the end of April, we'd still get three blooms out the the deal and make enough honey. So on a bright sunny April 30th, Bridger and I went to work.

20 strong hives coming out of apple pollination were my intended buckwheat producers. Problem was, that field was so wet, I was forced to place the bees at the back of a guy's yard on the adjacent property. "Don't you worry." he assured me. "My grandpa had bees. I know all about them."

Well as it turned out, he may have been a bee lover, but his wife most certainly was not! After two stings and three phone calls, I was forced to consider alternatives. Besides, the neighbors were having a little trouble digesting the idea. ("I'm deathly allergic! DEATHLY!") So I moved the hives. Hey, I'm a nice guy.

It's no easy task to move 20 hives (Especially when you're not getting paid to do it.) We had to place those bees at a new location miles away, and bring in 20 more. It took most of the night. By this time it was mid-May and the field was dry enough to place hives out in the middle, far from annoying people.

And oh yeah, I dropped one of those pallets when the forklift hit an unseen hole in the dark. From about five feet in the air, four hives came crashing down. The result: a lot of mad bees and quite a few stings for poor Lafe and poor me. Around 1 am. Oh the fun!

Then on top of that, wouldn't you know it, we had a frost! May 20th. The latest frost ever. (In the farmers' memory.) It zapped our beautiful buckwheat!

So much for the first bloom. We had to start over.

Another round of driving all that equipment five miles, the disk, the seeder, the drag. And half way through this second time of tilling, the tractor blew up!

Well, maybe it wasn't a true blow up... but it was a fire. A hydraulic line had burst up under the hood and sprayed the hot manifold. The result was a fire big enough to burn up a lot of stuff pretty quickly. Although I was quick to react (once being a volunteer firefighter) the half can of Pepsi I threw on... just didn't do...

Maybe I should have peed on it.

Regardless, the result was two weeks of down time and more money out the door. By this point the project was feeling somewhat futile.

In the meantime, we planted and dragged the half of the field that did get tilled.

You just never know what you're going to do on the bee farm.

This led to an unintentional succession planting. I guess it worked out for the best. It made for an extended bloom.

By August, the bees were finally doing what was supposed to happen in May: making buckwheat honey.

Because we were busy pulling summer honey in August, collecting pollen in September, and pulling fall honey in October, I just let the buckwheat supers sit on the hives. This may or may not have been a good idea. The buckwheat bee yard was the last one I pulled. It turns out, they did end up packing those supers...

...but the honey wasn't quite as dark as buckwheat should be. The bees had mixed in quite a bit of fall goldenrod.

But after all the headaches and stings and expenses ($6000 to date), we're going to call it buckwheat. BY GOD, IT'S BUCKWHEAT!

Just over 700 pounds of the good stuff. Did it pay off? Will it break even? Well, you can do the math...