It hasn't been terrible

-Posted by Isaac

I’m trying to remain an optimist on this dreary evening as the rain comes down in torrents.

For us, I mean. It hasn’t been terrible for us. All in all, the bee farm has survived the spring. I can’t say as much for my poor sister, the produce farmer.

It seems every other week, she’s suffering a new disaster.

The climate change experts are telling us to get used to it. This is the new normal, they say. (I’d call them scientists, but you know we midwesterners don’t believe in that science stuff.)

I feel for all the farmers. Big and small alike. The muddy, sweat-drenched lettuce pickers and the climate controlled, mega-acreage commodity producers.

It’s been a tough spring for everybody. Way too much water. Almost daily I hear a news report about the plight of the midwestern farmer. There’s a lot of acreage not getting planted this year. The insurance companies will be busy.

I sometimes wonder about the economy of scale. Over the last couple decades the trend has been toward bigger farms and bigger equipment. Even if you only make a few pennies per bushel, when you manage to produce a few million bushels, you’re ok. Buy a new truck, another big tractor… pay high rent next year… But these super wet spring seasons seem to be throwing a wrench in that philosophy. If you can’t get in to plant your 10,000 acres, what good is it?

This is something I haven’t heard discussed in all the sob story news pieces. It seems to me that the smaller farmers were able to get in and get done just fine. They made good on the five or six dry planting days they had. Maybe someone should give a small farmer the microphone.

Just thinking out loud.

Flooding wasn’t the only problem this spring. When we were out bouncing around Utah, we heard about you getting nailed with tornadoes. I had a buddy from Toledo text me at 5am (Utah time) and ask if we made it. Are you ok?, he asked. Yeah man, we’re fine. Go back to sleep.

And we were fine. I called Mom and found out nothing horrible happened. She forgot to mention the big cottonwood in our backyard had snapped in two.

But this wasn’t terrible. It gave us a multi-day bonfire, plus a newly rebuilt clothesline. Something I know my lovely wife has always wanted. (If only it happened closer to her birthday.)

Since we’ve been home, I’ve discovered that the bees were busy in the comb yards. They really took advantage of the few sunny days.

We’ve now cut up several boxes of beautiful white spring comb. The best!

Even Mason gave it a go.

It’s amazing what can be accomplished when you put limits on device time.

He even gave us a hand in the bottling room.

And what about the bottling? Are we going to have any liquid spring honey this year?

Yes!

No bumper crop by any means, but there was enough heat and enough sunshine to make some magic.

Just enough during the spring bloom.

About a third of the hives are filled out with the delicate white honey. I learned my lesson (again) with the other two thirds— you’re splitting too hard! Something to keep in mind for next year.

We’re a week into the spring harvest, and it’s looking like it will take another two weeks to finish up. Maybe a little longer if this rain keeps coming. It’s not looking good.

But turning to the other farmers, many of them still trying to plant, I have no room to complain. I guess it hasn’t been terrible.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it

-Posted by Isaac

I love it when a plan comes together.

Remember that weekly Hannibal quote from the A-Team? (Those of you over 40.)

I really do love it. Especially when I do zero of the planning. I’m so thankful that Jayne not only loves to travel, she can also orchestrate a trip like the one we just took. We’ve been doing this for, I think, four years now. Traveling around Memorial Day. At first I thought it was a little nutty… do you realize what we do, Honey?? We’re beekeepers! It’s the height of the season! But I’m used to it by now and I’ve adjusted the schedule accordingly. Anyway, I’m usually so overwhelmed and burnt out on bees by late May, these little getaways are probably healthy for all of us. I don’t do any thinking or logistics. She handles it all.

Let me tell you about this one— Seven days, four kids, seven national parks! If you permit me, I’ll share a picture or two from each park and maybe a memory to go with it.

In chronological order:

Arches

-Crowded! (As you can see.) But still beautiful.

-In the visitor center, we ran into an old geology professor from Wittenberg. Small world! He was surrounded by summer field studies students from Santa Barbra, CA. Talking strata, of course.

-One of the view points on the map was called The Garden of Eden. Our Eden made sure we got to that one.

Canyonlands

-Spectacular views! Windy!

-This park made me remember Edward Abby and the characters in The Monkey Wrench Gang. I did a lot of preaching… which nobody listened to.

Capitol Reef

-Another awesome geology talk in the visitor center. This one given by a cute young park ranger, and lasted a full half hour because some annoying guy from Ohio kept asking questions.

-The morning we left Capitol Reef, we were greeted with the biggest, most beautiful snowflakes ever—

Up around 9000 feet, those big flakes stopped being beautiful. 15 mph, 10% grade. This was how we spent Memorial Day.

No need for sunglasses.

Bryce Canyon

-We had a nice long hike in Bryce. It was still cold, but the kids managed without too much whining.

Zion

Eden! Get away from that hippie people-hugger tree!

-Of the seven we visited, this was my personal favorite with its massive red sandstone cliffs.

-It was crowded in the afternoon, but the next morning about daylight, I took a run up some trails. Had the place to myself.

Mesa Verde

-Another long hike. Probably three hours. We had to get to those petroglyphs! Our kids were troopers

-Leaving Mesa Verde and traveling across beautiful southern Colorado, we had the chance to officially make this a business trip.

Great Sand Dunes

-For the kids, this park was the highlight of the trip. They had been here two years ago and I guess the memories were good.

-It’s just a big sandbox, but if you feel inclined, it makes for a pretty intense workout.

Ironically that day, the last of the trip, I had Dylan’s You Ain’t Going Nowhere rolling through my head. I think it came to me because of one line in particular: We’ll climb that hill no matter how steep…

When we come up to it.

Don't blink

-Posted by Isaac

There they go.

Last day of school. Do you think they learned anything?

Thankfully, we already have one proud graduate in the family.

What a blur, this time of year. A time of energy and transition. The kids are moving into summer-play mode and the bees are going out to hopefully produce some honey. Summer-work mode.

After watching Eden strut up to receive her preschool degree, I loaded the last 16 apple pollinators for their move to better pastures. The rain has made this somewhat slow and difficult this year.

This group will come of age in western Madison County. Notice the honeysuckle is still in bloom out that direction.

Although it’s a busy stressful blur, I can’t help but love this transitional time of spring. We’re watching our babies grow up.

It all starts as a fantastic idea, doesn’t it? I think I want to create something. I want to bring something into this world and make it better. The potential is endless.

For a couple months, every morning I would rob the queen bank.

The last few…

Between the nuc sales and splits for our own purposes, we went through some 800 queens in April and May. Wow, that’s a lot of potential!

And before you know it, you have babies everywhere.

Very fast growing babies!

But I look at our own kids, I look at the 4-H goat we got in March, the baby ducks and chicks we got in April, even the baby rabbit we got last week… and I think, they all grow fast! All babies!

And they’ll grow up right too, provided you shed some love and attention.

All too soon, you’ve got teenagers.

Rambunctious, undisciplined and headstrong teenagers who need space.

If you don’t give them what they want, they’ll become insubordinate.

A bit of gentle coaxing may be in order…

But that period passes quickly. Blink and you’ll miss it.

Turn around again and you’ve got yourself full-grown, productive adults.

No, they’re not as cute, but it’s still a joy to see them reach their potential.

I remember riding in the truck with my dad. I was about 11 years old, Dad would have been mid-forties, and he was talking about my grandfather Barnes. He said something like, “Isaac, you won’t believe it, someday you’ll be 75 years old, you’ll turn around and think, where did it all go?”

Dad will be 77 in a few days. I wonder if he remembers telling me that?

But I took it to heart. I’m only in my mid-forties and I believe him!

Beekeeper secrets

Posted by Isaac

Do you ever see an object and take pause? See something that takes you to another place and time?

A few times a month I come across these frames with a stamped date. I love them. For a couple reasons. They range from 1997 to 2005, and for me, those were turbulent years. Emotionally intense years with sky high peaks (literally and figuratively) and some dark valleys. I guess I wouldn’t trade it for the present. The memories are enough. Let’s see, 2002, what was I doing that year… bouncing between Ohio, Colorado and Mexico… both gainfully employed and ski bumming… trying to figure things out… trying (and failing) to figure out women…

Little did I know, the very next year Jayne would come along. I still haven’t figured her out, but she did light a candle in the darkness.

Bees weren’t even on the radar in 2002. But I bet I know the guy who put that stamp on there. This is the second reason I love these frames. What was he doing in 2002? In what state was his business? What was he thinking? Was he worried about honey production or pollination, or mites or weather? And what was he doing to mitigate?

It had to be one of the three: Jim North, Dan Grant or Joe Blair. During those years the majority of the beehives in central Ohio were owned by one of these old men. I’ve now known them for years and I love to speculate about the bee days of old. Joe died in 2010, but I do see Jim and Dan at least once a month.

These guys can talk. They’re beekeepers. They have hours of old time stories, and every now and then at a bee meeting or even here in the honey house, I’m the lucky recipient. And I’m not always patient. In truth, it’s hard for me stand and listen when I’ve got something else going on. But I’ve learned that I’m better for it. (Plus, it’s polite.) There are nuggets of wisdom floating in all that talk. Beekeeper secrets.

Now that we’re finally seeing the beginnings of a spring honey flow,

I’m happy to think back on a bit of wisdom Jim imparted on me. It’s kind of a common sense thing, but I wasn’t doing it. I wasn’t really taking advantage of our short but intense spring flow. Here it is, the big secret: bees put honey UP.

Meaning, put your brood nest high in the boxes, right below the super. The bees will fill the super first when the nectar starts pouring in. Keeping in mind, you wouldn’t want to do this for a fall flow, but in the spring, you’ve got plenty of days left for the hive to adjust itself.

Let me show you using a couple nucs to fill some dead-out holes.

If you’re using double deeps to overwinter, go ahead and put that nuc in the top box.

If you can do this a week or two before the flow, and if the nuc is strong enough, those bees will explode into honey production mode.

Put on a queen excluder to force the egg laying down.

And put a super above to catch all that incoming nectar. (cross your fingers)

Bees put honey UP.

Thanks Jim!

I know, something so commonsense is not really a secret, but it took hearing it from Jim. He’s been beekeeping for decades, knows our weather and our honey flows, and knows how to take full advantage.

And this week it all started to fall into place. We got the heat and we got the sunshine.

Our lovely invasive honeysuckle has bloomed in full force.

And our black locust also decided that this was the week.

All this, combined with some acquired knowledge, and we may just make a little spring honey.

Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?

Sunrise, sunset

-Posted by Isaac

On our way to the baseball game, we decided to have ourselves a track meet.

And on our way to the track meet we thought we needed to look for honey bees.

There’s one!

Does anyone know what this is? It’s everywhere right now. I’ve heard wild mustard, spring goldenrod, stiff goldenrod, yellow aster… I suppose I could look it up. Our little southern Ohio paradise is painted with bright yellow splashes of mystery. With the rain, the farmers still can’t get in. Mother nature is doing the planting this year.

It’s been a strange spring. This week I listened to an NPR story about the annual bird migration through northern Ohio. The guy was saying he’s never seen a year like it. Certain species are weeks early, flying along the southern edge of Lake Erie. Others are a month behind. Very weird.

But at least the apple pollination has gone like clockwork. All our girls are home now.

Out of some, I made a few quick and easy three-frame splits. These will grow and eventually go into the pumpkins in July or August.

Most are getting moved out to their summer yards. Almost every morning I get up early, fire up the forklift and load a group of 16 or 20.

Sometimes the bees get a little testy. Maybe they’re not early risers?

By daybreak, barring mud holes or breakdowns, I’ve got them where they belong and all supered up. On the nicest mornings, I get to enjoy the sunrise.

But most of the time I just come home to start my day. Is this what it feels like to be a dairy farmer? …the milking first, a lot of early chores to get done, only catch a quick breakfast so you can start your day full of work… I did that for two summers in high school. No thanks.

I think I’ll stick with bees. None of this really feels like work.

It just takes time.

For a few days, counting pollinators, nucs and splits, we had almost 500 beehives right here on the home place. A lot of bees in the air! And what a wonderful soothing vibration the sky makes.

Between sunrise and sunset there’s a lot of moving and shaking…

shifting and checking…

Every nuc gets checked. I want to see the strength, pull the queen cage out, and make sure she’s accepted and laying. It gets somewhat repetitive and time consuming.

But worth it, I think. I like those happy customers.

There goes Laura from Urban Honey Bee.

Hopefully happy? …I usually go with the ‘no-news-is-good-news’ approach.

Nuc, splits, moving bees, supering hives. The days are busy.

But not too busy to look around and be mindful. To be aware of the greater busyness out there— the growing, the greening, the nest building, the noise making. Reaching a crescendo in the daylight, then melting into the sunset.

It’s a great time to be alive. Whatever your job may be.