Sugar in all forms

-Posted by Isaac

Happy November! Check out Maizy’s winning pumpkin at the Worthington Market:

It’s been, and continues to be a festive week.

But the end is in sight. Three parties to go, and we’re DONE. Thank God.

This Westfall Trunk or Treat on Wednesday brought out the real diehards.

Sugar, sugar, sugar. (In the rain.) The Halloween harvest is upon us.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the human condition improves. Maybe Steven Pinker is on to something.

Just look at that candy bucket! That’s one kid’s effort, on just one of many trick or treats… filled to the brim in less than an hour. Why, back in my day it would take a week to do that.

This is 2019 folks!

Evidence of humanity’s betterment abounds. Just look closely at the bucket—the kinds of candy— that’s important. Remember what we had to put up with?? We forty-somthings… Necco Wafers… little Tootsie Rolls… Dum Dums… Sweet Tarts… Smarties… Jaw Breakers… popcorn balls… apples! Apples fer cryin’ out loud! On Halloween! Yes, I’d say we’ve most definitely made visible progress over the years. (I do however miss the candy cigarettes.)

I suppose some of you naysayers would question my judgment in calling this “progress.” But I’m standing with Pinker.

You hand the younger generation the reins and just watch the world get better.

Three to go. Two for the kids, one for the adults. We’ll be good and stocked with candy by week’s end.

A week that started in the rain and may end in the snow. It’s gotten cold hasn’t it?

Look at what the cold does to the fall honey. Yesterday I went out and checked a bucket.

It’s hard to believe, but that honey was extracted just 15 days ago. And it flowed out of the comb perfectly fine. When you have goldenrod honey at 16% moisture, a lot of aster in the mix, and cool temps, you have some fast granulation on your hands. In another two weeks it will be rock solid.

Looking at that slow lovely flow made me think of our first (and favorite) party of the week.

Kristen Baughman’s apple butter shindig. We never miss it.

It takes a full day. Lots of apples and lots of sugar.

And constant stirring. 10 hours of stirring!

Mason took a turn while we settled in with beer and football.

And food. Of course!

Kristen is locally famous for her pie making skills, and her boyfriend Doug has provided Maine lobster for the last two years. (But be doesn’t do the cooking. That’s up the the guests to figure out.)

But let’s not lose sight of why we’re here. The butter must not rest!

My buddy Mike shouldered most of the burden for most of the evening.

And I got in on the last bit…

…while all the action was happening.

For about 20 minutes it’s coordinated madness. The big copper cauldron is quickly lifted, the hot stand quickly moved, the tables shifted, and the pouring begins. In assembly line fashion.

I had the pleasure of stirring while watching it all. Sixteen gallons of apple butter will fill 128 pint jars. Party favors.

The best part is the last part. Kristen bakes a big batch of rolls,

and we all set to work on cleaning that big copper pot.

It’s the least we can do to say, thank you!

Beekeeper spare time

-Posted by Isaac

Last time (seems like a while ago) I told you about Jayne taking off for the great unknown. While she was getting ready for that trip, I made it clear how jealous I was. I also tried to exaggerate the burden of carrying on with the fall honey and taking care of the kids for a whole week. Alone!

But she saw through it. She’s a farmer’s daughter.

When you’ve grown up farming, you know that there’s a little exaggeration now and then. Especially when it comes to the work load.

Here’s a meme that floated around the beekeeping internet this week:

I had to laugh. For one, it is sort of funny. But for me, part of the funniness is how completely untrue it is. There’s plenty of spare time! Are you kidding? Four months of winter?? Don’t let them fool you.

I saw a similar meme about grain farmers a few months ago. And my reaction was the same. Like Jayne, I grew up watching my dad farm. The work can be heavy and long, sometimes stressful, but only in spurts. It’s seasonal work. It’s cyclical. A few days, maybe a few weeks at a time. That’s all. Anyone can sprint.

By comparison, most of you spend your life running marathons. It’s a grind. I’ve been there too, and what drudgery— teaching and turf management— you know, real jobs. Where you have to show up on time, be professional, dress professional, be polite, be efficient, don’t take naps, etc… And I have to say, no thanks! It’s a sufferfest. I feel for you.

I’m happier now, and as long as you guys keep buying our honey, I’ll never have to work again. I know Jayne feels the same. Give us the bee life. For instance, my bringing to Jayne’s attention the “hard” work of the fall harvest while she vacationed, only brought this reaction: “Well, why don’t you take a trip too?”

Yeah, why don’t I??

Good idea. The very day we finished up with the fall honey happened to coincide with the first day of the Pumpkin Show. Around here, we get out of school for big things like pumpkins. So, me finishing with the bee work, and my hiker son Mason being free for a few days, we were presented with a great spare-time opportunity.

We took a four day trip to Kentucky.

The Red River Gorge.

Sure, he had to miss the big pumpkins, but there’s always sacrifices. A little yin, a little yang.

Oh, the problems of having a lot of spare time… which fun thing to do next? It’s tough.

I’m happy he decided to come with me. I had been down once before in college and learned that it’s a big climbing Mecca. The climbers come from all over the country to test their skills on this awesome sandstone.

Having no gear, we weren’t there to climb. But, I did know where all the climbers like to hang out.

I knew the best spot to eat, I knew where to hear great adventure stories and where to camp for (practically) free.

There’s this little pizza place, Miguel’s, that serves as the hub.

Behind the restaurant is a a big grassy field where you pitch your tent for the outrageous fee of $3 per night.

I guess it’s not very suitable if you want the no-neighbors and no-noise camping trip.

But if you’re 11 and you’ve never experienced climbing culture, this is about as good as it gets.

I was happy that Mason enjoyed the hiking every bit as much as hanging out with climbers. Maybe even more so. He became a real milage hog. We ended up covering about 40 miles, crossing the gorge twice.

Sometimes he’d even help dad bone up on the trail running.

And every evening Miguel’s called us home. We felt obligated to replace those lost calories with the most wonderful pizza ever. Not to mention pints of super-chilled Haagan Dazs.

It was an awesome, energetic and inspiring few days. And what made it even better is knowing that the fall honey harvest was done. Now I only have to answer life’s great spare time question.

What am I gonna do next?

At a Jimmy John’s, I was reminded of that old rat race once again.

Nah… not for me. You successful people can duke it out.

I’ll take my spare time. I’ll take the bee farming.

You picked a fine time to leave me.

-Posted by Isaac

And off she goes.

Jayne and a buddy spent the week hiking the deserts of southern California.

She left me. And here I am. Four hungry kids and a crop in the field.

About the middle of the week my dad called and wondered if I needed any help.

He’ll sit in the combine all day helping my brother. The harvest is an intense season for a grain farmer. But bee work?

It’s true, we’re still plugging right through the fall honey.

And it’s true, I wouldn’t mind a hand lugging those heavy supers, not having to hustle to beat the afternoon school bus.

But bee work? Really? That’s a more of a young man’s game. Some do it, Jim North comes to mind, but mostly beekeepers tend to hang it up on the hard, physical stuff in their 70’s and 80’s. Sorry Dad. Maybe you can be our official certified taste tester.

No, he says. I meant, do you need help with the kids?

Oh, the kids? No, I’ve got that covered. School is an awesome parent. And by the time school is over, I’m worn out enough to kick back and watch a soccer game.

We’ve got all four in soccer this year. We’re busy!

Besides, even when our evenings were free, we found find positive, character-building activities…

Gamblin’—

Shootin’—

Drinkin’—

Haha just kiddin’. Those awful dropped-g projects were undertaken months ago. Way back before we found Jesus.

As the spiritual head of the household this week, I felt it my duty to teach the kids peace, love, tolerance, forgiveness and empathy. You know, like all the religions claim to do.

Perhaps fightin’ could be added to those dropped-g projects… I have to say, there seemed to be more peace when Jayne was in charge.

Nevertheless, I put my little heathens to work. Maizy’s job was packing the daily lunches.

She did a good job, although she tended to pick favorites.

Eden and Bridger had the crucial responsibility of keeping our barnyard friends entertained.

And if our barnyard friends escaped the barnyard, they were to tell us before we had road issues.

Mason’s job was to keep the farmstand stocked and help with setting the table.

It’s ok, Mason. No need for cups.

He did a decent job also.

Aside from keeping the peace, my job of course was to prepare the meals.

But one day it occurred to both Mason and I that we could make our respective jobs much easier.

We thought it was brilliant. Unfortunately it’s hard to keep everyone happy without Mommy.

Don’t worry Baby Girl, I’m sure Mom wishes she was back here eating fries and shakes. I’m sure she’s having a terrible time of it in that awful desert.

In the mean time...

-Posted by Isaac

I had the pleasure of talking to a northern Ohio beekeeper last week. It was a great conversation, covering all the normal bee gab— honey, nectar sources, pollen, wintering, mites and mite treatments, etc… made my day. I watched the ducks while we discussed the mysteries of buckwheat honey production.

And what really made my day was that he said he’d been following our blog for some time and was complimentary about it. Even though, he said, he didn’t always agree with my politics. (Imagine that!) Before I could put my foot in my mouth and press the issue, he followed with something like, “Well, hey, if we all thought alike, life would be awfully boring wouldn’t it?”

That struck me as somewhat broad. Almost profound in these strange and divisive times.

(Sure, we’re on different sides of the aisle, but don’t we all really want the same thing?)

Like fresh spring willow leaves…

Like healthy bees…

Sometimes that little voice in my head comes in at just the right moment. This time it said, “Isaac, stay off the politics and stick to bees… this guy is obviously smarter than you.”

So that’s what I did. And I’m still listening. We’re going to stick with bees (for this post, anyway), and we’re not even going to brag about the honey production, as most of my bee posts do. Although, I’ve got to tell you, it’s been going great with the fall honey.

We’re a week in, and it’s looking like a terrific crop. But let’s save that for another post.

For now, I’d like to talk a bit about what goes on between the honey extracting. What we do in the mean time.

In the past two months we’ve gone from this—

To this—

To this—

Off comes the summer honey in August, off comes the fall in October, and by November all the hives will be (hopefully) big, fat, heavy, healthy, and ready for winter.

There are plenty of places to go if you want expert bee advice, but I’m happy to share a few things we do that seem to work. As in, promote healthy, strong and productive hives… hives that also have a good chance of making it through the winter.

One thing is protein.

Starting in late July and going through October, every hive gets five or six pounds. Not all at once! Only a pound or two at a time.

Waste of money? Some say it is… but I’m not so sure. I’m no bee expert, but our hives have looked much better since I’ve been doing this.

Another possible waste of money—

No, not cocaine. (That’s way too much for one hive!)

This is a probiotic.

Every hive gets a sprinkle. We’re now giving our forth shot of the year (every other month) while pulling the fall honey. Again, it may just be an expensive placebo, but I’d swear the hives have been stronger because of it.

Most important…

I repeat, most important…

You’ve got to keep the mites under control. We’re now on our forth formic acid treatment of the year. And we’ll hit them with oxalic in the late fall and early spring. It’s a constant ‘in the mean time’ job.

And unlike the above jobs— the protein and probiotic— mite treatments are not a quasi-riddle. For our bees, they’re a must. I’ve seen and been to the other side of the tracks— the treatment free side— and it’s hell. Mite-ridden bees are sick bees, simple as that. Even when they survive, they’re not productive.

An interesting article about fighting the mites was posted to social media this week. My friend Dan Williams always has a way of clearing the fog and getting a point across:

The mites have to be controlled. It’s what you do when you’re not pulling honey.

Dan and Bill both know this. They’ve been at it a long time, and these guys really are bee experts.

If my words did glow

-Posted by Isaac

Long live the late Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter.

(Would you hear my voice come through the music)

We lost him this week. But his words live on.

(Would you hold it near as it were your own?)

To honor Mr. Hunter, I’ve been on a Dead kick since Tuesday and it’s put me in sort of an easy, free mood.

I’m feeling young. I look around, I close my eyes and listen. The very air pulses with music. Life softens.

I can lose the niggling climate thoughts, the exasperating political B.S. of the moment. Five minutes of NPR this morning told me we’re deep into another scandal. Will they impeach him? (I don't know, don't really care.)

It’s all washed away.

The days have shortened, turned smooth and golden. The nights, still and starlit. I feel so tranquil. This is even without drugs, mind you.

The music of bees, the sunshine itself is a drug. Sometimes I pull into a bee yard, shut off the truck, and just listen.

(Let there be songs to fill the air)

My friends are true and steady. I check in everyday. They tell me the good news.

(Let it be known there is a fountain)

(That was not made by the hands of men)

What did I do to deserve this? This bee life?

Nothing.

Nothing, I think. Well, it’s complicated… I got lucky.

(Reach out your hand if your cup be empty)

Luck with direction maybe?

(If your cup is full, may it be again)

Somehow, some way I hit the lottery.

The big roulette wheel went spinning, red and black flying by… all the years, jobs, places and relationships… somehow my marble landed on green. And not only that, as it turns out, green was what I bet on!

Of the infinite paths, somehow I landed here. In this place, at this time, doing this work, sharing it all with these people. What are the chances?

(There is a road, no simple highway)

How did it happen?

It only came one day at a time. One decision at a time. You’d think I could piece it all back together. But when I try, I lose myself in the music.

(If I knew the way I would take you home)