Show me the Honey!

-Posted by Isaac

Let us now bow our heads and ask a blessing on this, the Lord's bountiful spring harvest.

The Lord giveth!

Oh sweet nectar! Milk Of The Gods! 

(Not the Frank Gallagher version.)

We've been hard at it for a week now and the spring honey is aflowin'. Beautiful, light, floral spring honey! Gorgeous! Probably the best thing you've ever tasted. Or at least the best thing you've had since this time last year.

Unlike last year we're not swimming in it, thanks to that stretch of rain and cold during our late April bloom. But all the same, it's not too shabby. The very strongest hives still filled three supers.

Wish we had a few more of those!

We're about a third done at this point.

The Lafe Man has been clocking up the hours in the extracting room.

While I take advantage of these beautiful spring days in the bee yards.

It's hot, it's sweaty, it's heavy hard labor. And probably my very favorite thing to do.... Pulling honey!

Getting the honey off the hives and to the honey house-- A necessary job, but not the only job. Maybe not even the most important. Almost daily, a sampling crew comes out to meet the returning bee truck. 

It's called quality control!

Road Tripping

-Posted by Isaac

When you're on a long road trip it's important to have a decent crew.

Someone who knows all about vehicle maintenance. And of course you'll need experienced drivers, preferably wired up on caffeine and chocolate. A hearty soul or two or three, ready for the long haul.

And it's important to think BIG.

No more of these puny little trips to the Hocking Hills. No more measly three day campouts at the Ohio River. 

This year we took aim at the mountains!

Mountains? What mountains?

And for two whole days we missed. It was rough.

No mountains in Kansas.

"The sun is ris, the sun is set, and here we is, in Kansas yet."

But eventually we found them.

Yes, we love our mountains.

And we love our camping too. Maizy stole my phone and snapped the above picture. (This shot and about a hundred others.) While deleting through, I saw this one and realized that she had captured me in demonstration of the essence of camping--  Spectacular scenery. Pitchin' tents. Plenty of eatin'. Plenty of drinkin' ...and droppin' that g. It's important when campin'.

For both Jayne and I, the Colorado mountains hold a special place in our hearts. We thought that this would be a good time to sort of baptize our children.

Hoping that maybe someday a few of them will see the light. And spread the good word.

Or at the very least, let us come and visit.

The mountains are especially attractive when they create a giant sandbox for your personal enjoyment.

And it's all the better when you manage to catch a ride to your sandbox.

Mom did a lot of ride giving and just plain carrying dead weight on this trip.

Especially in the snowy high country.

As long as someone was around to carry a tired and complaining kid, the kid seemed to have plenty of energy when we finally got there.

For five days we ran around the beautiful high alpine heart of Colorado-- my old place of employment. It's been 15 years. Wow! When I think about it too hard, I get a longing, reaching, aching knot in my stomach. The great Townes van Zandt said as much in his yearning mountain hymn.

(Notice the great songwriter also dropped the g.) A few lines almost bring tears: "Bid the years goodbye, you cannot still them. Well you cannot turn the circles of the sun. Ah you cannot count the miles until you feel them..."

Ok, enough reminiscing.

We visited old friends. Some of whom had also decided to procreate. 

We panned for gold.

And struck it rich. Here Baby Eden shows off the construction of our new mountain home.

(As soon as we find that five million dollar nugget.)

Of course we shopped and sampled.  They're crazy about local honey in Colorado also.

And as always, we looked for new business ideas. 

Tar infused honey? The next big seller? Could be!

But really, who cares about local honey when there's a candy shop next door.

Come to think of it, the entire state is a candy shop.

It was Jayne's idea.

All four kids, eight days, over 3000 miles. I had my doubts... but it turned out just wonderful. ("I'm thankful that old road's a friend of mine.")

And I'm thankful to you for joining us. Sometimes a virtual road trip beats the real thing. Pretty pictures, less noise.

An object in motion stays in motion

-Posted by Isaac

Wow, what a busy couple of weeks on the bee farm! A lot of motion. Newton's first law comes to mind. A lot of bouncing from one thing to the next to the next. Day and night.

For one, about 120 pollination hives have been moved to their out yards. With the hope of a honey crop to come. For four or five days, the girls were loaded in the evening, traveling in the early morning, and usually set down before the sunrise.

Good morning bees!

A few are still at work in the pollination business. 

These 20 hives are working in the produce fields below Bainbridge.

Not long ago I was complaining about the cold front nixing our spring honey crop. The bees couldn't make it out to work. But it appears I may have been a little too bitter too early. The blooms hung on and we caught the end of two really good nectar flows. The honeysuckle:

And the black locust:

It's not near the crop we had last year, but at least it's not a zero. 

I should know better than to complain. Hey, spring weather is fickle.

In fact some hives are doing awesome. The timing on the April split and the location had the most to do with it, but certain yards were actually requiring more supers. I took the kids on one of these trips and little Eden procured my phone, becoming the bee paparazzi.

With the return of the heat and nectar flow came the return of swarming.

Lots of swarms! Day and night.

The bee club was all abuzz last Thursday evening. So many swarms this year! Free bees for the taking. And each comes with it's own thrilling story of beekeeper heroics.

Dan Williams shows us how it's done.

Remember all those nucs from a few weeks back?

Most of them have left. Gone off to some bright future somewhere. I have yet to receive a post card, but I assume no news is good news.

About 60 have been transferred to bigger equipment, soon to move to their own bright and hopefully productive future in an out yard.

And finally, we got around to the buckwheat.

More moving, more busyness. This time involving tractors. And where there are tractors, my little farmer is sure to be found.

This year's buckwheat is going in the field around our house. Which makes things a hell of a lot easier than last year. For one, I don't have to move any hives. Also, getting equipment here on our small roads didn't give me a heart attack. Last year it was a precarious, car dodging six mile drive. It's much easier to be a road hog for one short mile.

Everything went very smooth. The weather held, the seed got spread, the seed got covered. And now we're having a beautiful light rain. 

Sometimes things work out.

No, we're not above a farming selfie now and then.

The Queen Mother

-Posted by Isaac

Happy Mother's Day!

You Ain't Goin' Nowhere

-Posted by Isaac

So it's Saturday morning, Jayne left for market an hour ago, and I'm here waiting on nuc customers to show up. Maizy has "Kid's Bop" on the kitchen Pandora, so I hide here in the office with my Bob Dylan. First song to pop up, an oldie but a goodie. One that our little band loved to cover way back in that other life that I can hardly remember. 

'Clouds so swift, the rain won't lift...'

Yes, that about sums it up. 

What a horrendous week. Hilarious almost. Ironically, my last post was titled 'A Beautiful Thing.' The day I posted that, the rains had moved in, and eight days later they're still here.

Hilarious on account of what also happened: our spring bloom. Every year in this little nest of central Ohio heaven, we have about 10 days of intense spring bloom. The black locust and bush honeysuckle fire off at the same time. Like peaches and cream if you're a honey bee.

And if you're a beekeeper you just sit back and smile. You pat yourself on the back for all the hard work of prepping strong colonies. And you think about all the honey extracting to come. 

Not this year. We're nearing the end of our 10 days and I don't think the bees have even made it out. Not only rain. Cold! Last night the temp bottomed out at 35 degrees. And wind! The one day it wasn't raining and actually warm enough to forage, the winds were clipping along at about 30 mph. It sucks. I mean it sucks.

Not that I'm one to complain. (hehe)

The farmers have had it worse.

It's planting season, nothing's getting planted.  What did get planted is getting drowned. If not drowned, it's getting frozen.

It sucks.

Not that I'm one to complain.

Oh good... here comes another Dylan... 'Come in she said, I'll give ya shelter from the storm.' 

Today my shelter is music. A little folk music always brightens the gloom. It's true! Try it! 

I'll leave you on a happier note.

I fell into a new bee location this week. A random guy on a Worthington market food tour last summer said, "Come on out, see what we've got." 

So this week I did. And it's awesome! (Picture above.) Almost 300 acres of non-row cropped forage. It looks like somewhere in the Dakotas. And it's only a 25 minute drive. We'll have 20 hives out there next week. What a stroke of good luck.

Well I'd better get out there. It's hard work selling these nucs! (Kidding. This sure beats working the market...)  

Customers will be here soon. And so will the warm weather.

Hopefully.

Yesterday my dad mentioned that it hit 90 degrees in Montana this week. That stings. In fact, I thought he may have been stretching the truth a little just to rub it in. So I looked it up.

He was... it was only 86.

'Climb that hill, no matter how steep, when we get up to it.'