Sun Worshipping

-Posted by Isaac

When the sun is bright and high, when the July heat is baking us, when the vast green fields of soybeans are a'bloom, when the summer feels like it ought, I like to check the bees. I like to do it alone, lost in my thoughts. And every now and then, I like to bring company and get lost in bee talk. It's hard to convince my kids to come along. The truth is, they're sick of bee talk. 

But sometimes it's just a matter of an easy bribe.

If you're a beekeeper, a few things make you very happy. White wax would be one of them. When you pop a lid and see a fringe of white new wax lining the frames. This means the nectar is flowing!

I start happy, and my happiness grows with every yard. Driving around, talking about bee life and nectar and honey and heat and growth, stopping to walk the fields and ditches, checking for foraging, contemplating the beauty... awed by the wealth... breathing sweet and lucid air... taking it all in.

It's sublime.

I can't speak for all of us, but when I check bees, I live in an exhilarating virtual world- my head. It's intoxicating, almost addictive. It's selfish. Like the Robert Earl Keen song, 'I am guilty of a dreadful selfish crime.' I love to sneak away to my job. 

And even if I can't sneak away to the bees, if the sun is shining, it's a simple joy just to sneak into the light. And think. Sunlight- millions of years old, these photons. Born of nuclear fusion deep in the sun, struggling to the surface, released, traveling 92 million miles in eight minutes, striking my eye, warming my face, making me happy.

Truly sublime.

Truly.

Some things got done on the bee farm this week. A few big ones, many small. The biggest by far was the work of the bees. They're busy paying our bills.

But a second big happening was what we did yesterday- concrete. 34 yards. Wow! I actually had this big pad formed up and ready to go in March.

But as you may remember, March was miserable. Too cold, too wet. Then came April and we got busy with bees. And continued busy through May and June. Finally things have stabilized and the bees are busy doing their important work. Now we have time to spend the big bucks on our not-so-important projects. Keeping this economy juiced like the true American consumers we are. Buying things we don't really need. 

Funny, I felt strangely patriotic writing those checks. 

What a difference a day makes.

But not just any day. A July day. A sunny day. Huge difference! For two full weeks we've had the sun factor going for us, and it's been the most productive two weeks of the year. Not only from the bee standpoint. Not only from the project standpoint. The sun is the engine for so many important things. Fishing, swimming, boating, camping, etc...

The work never ends.

We jumped into all of it this week.

Not to mention eating. The sun drives it all. This week the sweetcorn came on.

So we had a party.

My brother, the sweetcorn grower, turned 41 on Tuesday. He gifted all us piggies with fire-cooked corn. Little Arlo showed us that sweetcorn is not an acquired taste. You love it from your first bite. 

We've been sweetcorn connoisseurs for generations. And this year is about the best ever. The dry planting, the rainy June, the hot hot July... all contributing to an awesome juicy bite. And what force drives them all? -The dry, the rain, the heat, the juice? -The Sun! 

Not everyone knows this. Even journalists get it wrong sometimes. Even supposedly educated people. Last week the Onion newspaper and their stupid scientists tried to pin it on some sort of astrological phenomenon.

But I was pleased to see that one astute fact-checker caught'm with their pants down.

I totally agree. Liberals never sees to amaze me either.

Looking for the rainbow

-Posted by Isaac

You've got to look for the rainbow in everything, right?  Isn't that what they say?

Here's our rainbow from a few days ago.

It was a nice little gesture from our good friend, Mother Nature. This was after the beatdown she served us just moments before.

We're still cleaning up the mess.

Let me try to take this rainbow analogy a bit further. If you've been following this blog for the last few months, you know that I'm an adept complainer. Aside from the stupidity of people and politics (and people in politics), aside from the many mechanical breakdowns and expenses, you know that my one never-ending complaint is the weather. The ridiculous weather. Too cold, too wet, too windy... I've been bleating about it all spring. 

The ridiculous weather. And we have a very minimal spring honey crop to show for it.

The last few supers were run through this week.

Grand tally: about one tenth of last year's crop.

It's gorgeous honey though. Light, floral and delicate- my favorite of the seasons. Thankfully we still have a decent reserve of the 2017 and 2016 spring honey.

But here's the rainbow: although it wasn't much of a spring for making honey, the hives were all split in April, most have new queens, and the bees are looking awesome. The girls are strong and the weather is starting to come around. The soybeans are blooming and the heat is upon us!

When it's sunny, mid nineties, mid Ohio, mid July, it's honey making time. Go out and shake a frame, see for yourself.

Nectar!

With strong bees, plentiful blooms, and perfect conditions, the boxes really start to fill.

We're going to have summer honey! 

How much is entirely dependent on how long these perfect conditions last.

There's still a debate among Ohio beekeepers about the source of this summer honey. To my mind, it's obvious- the soybeans. That's what's out there in plenty, that's what's blooming. But some still say it comes from clover. Last week I got a text from fellow beekeeper, Dan Williams. He was excited about the sudden nectar flow and heavy shakes. Just a week previous, the frames had been bone dry. He said he found bees working the soybeans, but also working the dutch clover pretty hard. That struck me as strange. I had thought that the bees mostly ignored the clover once the soybeans came on. The next day I was in a bee yard, and nearby was a perfect situation to observe the relative attractiveness. Soybeans vs. clover:

And guess what I found- Dan wasn't lying. They were all over that clover. But you'd walk a few yards into the soybeans, and find bees all over those blooms too. They were working both.

So maybe there is a little Ohio honey to be had from clover. Maybe I need to cool it with my insistence that it's all the soybeans. I don't know. But I do know what there's more of...

In terms of quantity, soybeans beat clover by at least an order of magnitude. It wasn't always like this. In the good old days there was not only clover in the ditches and fence rows, we had something else littering our farm fields. They were called weeds. Weeds! Bane to grain farmers, banquet for bees. 

 So if you're a honeybee in July, your diet isn't necessarily diverse, but at least there's nectar to be had. Plenty of it when the conditions are right. Some of us beekeepers are trying to get to the bottom of what exactly those conditions are. It seems to me, hot, dry and sunny make a winning combination. Sunny being the most important variable of the three.

One other side debate that comes up from time to time is what variety of soybean the bees go to. Beans bloom out in two colors- purple and white. Usually it's an entire field planted in one or the other. In our area, purple seems to be more prevalent. A few beekeepers are adamant about knowing which the bees like best. I distinctly remember one old fella telling me that you'll never see a honeybee on a white soybean bloom. 

I like to keep that conversation in mind when I walk the soybeans. Last Sunday Eden and I took a little inspection trip. It was around 85 degrees and the bees were hard at it. You could hear them everywhere. Sorry I don't have a good photo... they move so fast from bloom to bloom and it's under the canopy where it's hard to snap a picture. But trust me, they were making honey that day. We chased the buzzing for five minutes or so. It was fun. And guess what color of bloom those bees were wild about:

Another myth debunked.

I guess I already knew this one wasn't true. I had seen bees work the whites before. But never this hard. Maybe the old fella needed to do more soybean walking.

Or maybe he just forgot his good luck Batgirl.

The important work of the world

-Posted by Isaac

I've had the pleasure of working the Worthington Market for two weeks in a row. And that hasn't happened in a few years-- five market hours for two consecutive weeks! I'm pleased to report that there were zero fights with customers, zero bee knowledge discrepancies, and only one small disagreement (fight) over something with our set-up. It was with my lovely wife. My love and my light.

And it wasn't even a big one. A trifling little discord, paling in comparison to some of our blowups in years past. Are we mellowing?

One of the benefits of Jayne being there is that the second-stringers can wander and slack. Maizy spends many of her market hours chasing sugar of one form or another, and I spend a fair amount of time people watching and lost in my thoughts. Sometimes I make it out to talk to old friends. But in the last two weeks I've really gotten to know a new friend. And for this post I want to tell you about him.

He comes every week and sets up beside us, taking on sort of a management role. Yesterday he even napped for the first two hours, because, lets face it, anyone can sell lettuce.

If you've been to the Worthington Market, you know it's pretty intense. But through it all, he's calm, he's collected. He knows when to lend a guiding hand, when to back off and let others figure it out.

He talks of life.

Of the important work that got done that week.

He takes care of himself. Eats right.

Is highly intelligent.

Carries himself with a certain stateliness.

Has multiple interests.

There is a distinct light in his eyes, unclouded by today's cynicism.

Which is good.

I suspect he'll live longer than most of us.

Which is good.

We're handing him a slightly problematic world- from acidifying oceans to nuclear missiles in the hands of lunatics. 

I'm sure he'll figure it out.

Find that funny, do you? Ye of little faith.

I mean it. He'll figure it out. He's young, but he's got broad shoulders.

My little friend will carry the load.

Just exactly as I have observed in the last two weeks.

While the rest of us are busy selling stuff, he handles the important work of the world.

And he makes it look easy.

I know who I'd like to blame

-Posted by Isaac

Well, a week has passed. It seems I wasn't the only one fired up. In fact, the story became a national firestorm. (Only after I sounded the alarm.) Hate and rage on both sides of the issue... finger pointing, side stepping and an unbelievable amount of spin. How someone can look past the obvious cruelty and spin this as: 1. That'll teach them... 2. They had it coming... 3. You break the law, you pay the price... 4. Those aren't really the parents... 5. This has always been done.... 6. Typical hysteria of the drive-by media... 7. Typical media hate on Trump... 8. Obama did it first... 9. Happens to our own criminals every day-- they don't get their kids... 10. The Bible says follow the laws... 11. The whole thing is a complete fabrication...

What a bunch of BS. If anything, this week taught me how very polarized we are. How quick we are to scream and blame and point fingers. We fight on Facebook while a bunch of lost kids sit in cages. Is this Trump's fault? Obama's? Republicans? Democrats? Who is to blame for this?

Jayne and I saw Todd Snider in Nelsonville last night. He's not political. He says he only comes up with this stuff because it rhymes.

Anyway as you can tell, I'm still fired up. But it's nice to know that most of the country is on my side. It seems that some laws may actually get changed. And hopefully in short order. As I said last week, it's a bit dangerous for me to get political on a blog post. Even on an issue so cut and dry. I mean, this is not Boston or Boulder or Bellingham. If you don't watch out, they'll call you names down here in southern Ohio. Lefty. Hippy. Bleeding heart. Snowflake. Softy. Sympathizer. Schmuck. Patsy. Fool. And sometimes even the most intolerable of insults... the height of repugnant labels... the most odious and insufferable brand of them all- they might call you a liberal.

I looked it up. It's hideous: 

Let's hope I never go over that edge.

So setting politics aside, what's happening on the bee farm? 

Not a lot. Still treating bees, still dodging the rain and sitting in the truck. Which leaves plenty of time for fighting on Facebook.

I think we had four or five inches this week. I worked the market this morning alongside sister Becky of Tilley Farmstead. She pulled weeds in the mud and the downpours all week. She and I feel the same way- we put our minds to the task and just bear it. We've grown callus. If it's not over an inch, shoot, we barely even notice. Just a half inch this afternoon? Is that all you got? You call that a rain?

It's getting really old. Just like the snow in April was getting really old. The weather is weird and getting weirder. But hey, what can you do? Who can you blame?

 I still had this photo in my phone. It's the scene on the first official day of spring:

And here we have the scene on the first official day of summer:

We were blessed with two more inches later that evening. I guess I had it coming.

Who knows, maybe we'll luck out with the fall.

As you might imagine, the bees don't do much on these wet days. They hang out. Some like to do something called "washboarding." It's a cool little dance at the hive entrance. 

Nobody knows why bees do this. It is of yet, an unexplained phenomena. But they're bees- creatures of mystery. Not like us, the sensible, sane and rational Homo sapiens.

It was fair week here in Pickaway. We sensible and sane humans gathered up our projects and threw our hats in the ring.

The competition was intense. Pride and ribbons and bragging rights on the line.

Mason took home a second place with his ducks and champion in beginner showmanship.

Maizy cleaned up with ten blue ribbons in the flowers and crafts!

And Eden mostly just helped clean up.

It's not exactly the same, but even here in Ohio we lock our kids in cages. I wonder who's to blame?

Fired up on Father's Day

-Posted by Isaac

They're home!

All the pollination hives are now where they belong. It took a bit longer this year to get them to their out yards. Weather difficulties. As usual.

Last week Mason had some friends over. The idea was stay out in the camper, but three inches of rain that night put a stop to it. Still, the next day they helped us to celebrate Ohio's awesomeness. 

It seems to be shaping up about like last year-- rain and more rain. Flooding and chaos in the heartland. Like a drum major in front of the parade, high winds preceed each storm . About once a week we circle the yard and pick up downed branches. One of these days we'll have a hell of a bonfire.

About a half mile away a big branch broke off the hickory tree and fell in the corn. Bridger and I went to cut it up, but the chainsaw was out of gas. No matter, we'll just drag our prey down the road.

All the weather worries have sort of prevented us from doing what we should be doing- extracting honey. It's time to pull the spring boxes. Unfortunately there's not a lot of it, so I guess it's no rush. As I said in an earlier post, we sold too many nucs and I sort of split myself out of a spring honey crop. Too bad, because it could have been pretty decent. Every now and then I come across a hive that was left strong enough to take advantage of our spring flow. 

Wish there were more!

I have learned some things over the years. Like, no matter what, keep your comb honey yards strong. Don't split those hives hard! Our spring honey flow is both intense and reliable. It may be short lived, but if you have some comb boxes on decently strong hives, you're sure to fill them. 

And we did.

So we got that going for us. Comb honey, check.

And the June mite treatment is well under way. Check.

I'm back into that good old formic acid. Missed those vapors! You can see that the bees also love this stuff. (Sarcasm) After applying the strip and putting the hive back together, the returning foragers seem to be stopped dead in their tracks:

Whoa! What did you guys do in there!

This time I won't preach about mite treatments. Most of you beekeepers know how important this is. Here's a post from last year where I was a bit more preachy: TREAT YOUR BEES!

But let's not set preachiness aside totally. I can't help it. I know full well I should just stick with bees, but it's Father's Day and this week we bumped up against an issue that set me on fire. It's political. So it's dangerous for someone like me. Normally, as you may have guessed, I lean a little left. Not hard left, just a little. (Just enough to piss off my father.) And I don't argue left. It's not worth getting red in the face. I just shrug. Mostly I sympathize. Everyone is a product of their background. Their parents. Their community. Their education. Their media sources. Their own stubbornness. Bigots will be bigots. Racists will be racist. Homophobes, homophobic. Haters will hate and deniers will deny. I shrug. It's beyond me to try to change a set mind with facts. Or logic. Or reason. Or rationality. Or empathy. But...

It was empathy that put this week's hot button issue on the forefront of my mind. In fact, I was so out of sorts about it, I had to run it by Jayne. Should we actually do something?

It's this deal of taking kids from their parents as a deterrent for illegal border crossings. Some 2000 kids now. What the hell? This is one issue that is so clearly cut and dry. So clearly right and wrong. How could anyone be on the wrong side of this? And let it continue? Yet you see memes and arguments on both sides. Is this actually a law of the United States? What kind of heartless bastard(s) put that through? Surely not fathers and mothers! Surely not God fearing Christians! Could any "God of Love" forgive such a thing? 

I know Colbert isn't everyone's cup of tea, but he nailed it on this one. This was yesterday:

Can you imagine the hell these people are going through? Put yourself  there- you are leaving the hell you came from. You didn't want to, it's all you've known, but you're desperate and hopeless. There's no future here. So you have your kids with you because you're doing this for them. The future. It's such a risk, and it may not succeed. And even if it does, the best that you yourself can hope for is a life in the shadows. In the margins of a marginal society. Picking strawberries? Hanging drywall? Living in sheds and basements. But your kids... your kids will find their way. They'll learn the language. They'll learn the customs. They'll assimilate. A bright hope for the next generation. Sure it's a risk. But the future is always a risk. And always worth it.

You're caught at the border. It's always been a border of hope and despair. And you got caught. You lose. Despair. You are handcuffed and herded. When just the day before, you were a hopeful father. You had your family, forging a path to a better life, running from crime and poverty and hopelessness. Running from criminals. Now you're the criminal. A criminal? Now at the mercy of the courts. But at least you're still a father. At least you've still got your kids.

And then the worst possible thing happens. Worse than torture, worse than death. This new country decides to enforce a law.

This is so clearly a case of right and wrong.

I'm happy to hear that there seems to be a rising tide of protest. A very justified protest. I will gladly lend my support to these people. 

Happy Father's Day. I hope you fathers get to enjoy your kids as much as I enjoy mine.