Napping Children + Good Weather = A Tip to Visit the Bees!

I couldn't resist. After lunch all three of my babes passed out... hard. I just know these are going to be killer naps. (They are still sleeping as I type.) Everyone was up early, everyone played hard, and everyone ate good lunches. I almost succumbed to a siesta myself. But, with three dead-to-the-world sleepers and the first sunny day without 30mph gusting winds I thought I'd better take my chance and get out to see the bees. 


As soon as I had made up my mind I got extremely nervous. I'm not sure what induces the thrill, but each time I know I'm going to have a bee-encounter my blood pressure picks up and I have to go to the bathroom a few times before I can get on my suit. (TMI for sure, but that's life. And I think it will be funny to remember years from now that I could check on the bees without several trips to the potty first.) Anyway, once my guts settled down I went to work lighting the smoker. As the flames began to lick around the canister, I got my gear around while going through a check list of all the things I might need and all the things I was going to look for once I got into the hives. I love the process of gearing-up to go out to see the bees. It is a process both mental and physical, and I found the whole thing soothing. 

In to my basket went my camera, bee brush, hive tool, bars fitted with hair clips... check, check, check! Finally I zipped myself into the suit, puffed on the smoker a couple of times to check for cool white smoke (you don't want flames shooting out of the end to singe your bees!) and off I went down the hill to visit with my favorite six-legged honey-making amigas. 


My purpose for visiting the hives was different for each colony. I wanted to check in on the old bees and see if a new queen had hatched from the queen cell they made and if I could find any evidence of her laying. According to some more experienced beekeepers on a forum I read, even if they could raise a new queen their chances of survival are grim because their numbers are so low that even if a queen started laying brood, the house bees aren't numerous enough to cover the babies and keep them at the right toasty temperature. What I need to do is combine the two colonies, but it was nice today to be able to open up that box and not be overwhelmed by the sheer volume the sound of thousands of bees hard at work. (I'm sure someday that sound will be like music to my ears, but right now it is a little intimidating, I won't lie.) 


The swarm colonie however: Wow! What a sound. They are some feisty girls too! Despite a generous (but not too generous) application of smoke the roar that came out of that hive was crazy!!! I had a couple fly out of the hive and ping me in the face too. Thank you kick-ass bee suit, no stingers in my flesh today! I really didn't want to mess with these ladies. It wasn't their demeanor, but more so because I want to leave them alone to do what bees do, make honey and more bees! However, after the last cross-comb nightmare, I wanted to reassure myself that they were building in the right direction. Thank god they were. It looks like they are working to attach the comb I gave them on clips to the bar. There was a TINY little bit of new comb, and it was attached nicely  to a bar. Yea! Go bees! I didn't look for the queen, or check for food stores or eggs. I'll go back in a week to check on their progress. For now I'm just content knowing that they are building in the right direction.

How did those leaves blow in there is what I want to know? The all the openings to the hive are a quarter inch or less! 

 It was after my visit to the swarm colony that I opened up the sad little package colony. Every time I look in there there are less and less bees. It is so sad. Today, it was clear that I won't have bees in there much longer. The only queen cell they had looked like the bottom had been chewed out of it. I would have been excited about that except their seemed to be a dead (unmoving) bee inside of it head first. I don't know much about anything, but that doesn't seem promising to me.  In a week... or less if I can manage it I am going to take the comb from the sad hive and place it and any bees still on it in the other hive. (There will be a mechanism to introduce the new bees slowly, but I'm not going to get into the technical bit of that just now.) If nothing else, it will save the swarm bees a ton of work to have those combs. 

All the house bees left in this hive are between these two combs. It's a sad sad sight. I also saw a bunch of drones.

So, that's it. I'm feeling pretty good about the whole thing. It was actually a small victory just getting the smoker going without assistance. Smoochy is the resident pyro, so he's fired up the smoker on all other occasions. Of course, I did manage to burn the crap out of the tip of my pinky finger while trying to pry the thing open after I was done using it today. If the smoker cools with the lid on the resin makes it stick. I was yanking and yanking on it after my trip out and the thing just didn't want to open. (Maybe because I was trying to open it from the wrong end? Duh!) Than POW! My finger slipped right between the wires of the protective cage. Ouch! I almost think I'd have preferred a bee sting. It would have been less embarrassing.

Her name was Lola...

My poor sweet baby. For her first birthday she got a fever. Not sure if she's sick or teething, or just transitioning from baby to toddler, but for the last two days she has been miserable.

 Regardless of her case of the icks, we plowed ahead with the cake and presents anyway. You only turn one once after all. Years from now she won't remember any of it. But, she'll have these pictures to document that we honored her on her special day.

 Our family could never be complete without our L-O-L-A. She's our comedian and our favorite lip magnet. Everyone wants to be the first to tell her good morning. When the big kids come into our room in the morning the first thing they usually ask (after announcing they want "lunch") is, "Is Lola awake?"

Dearest Lolly, happy happy birthday, my little fat pancake. This year has gone by faster than I could have ever believed. You were the absolute bright spot each of the 365 days since you came into our lives. We all love you so much.

Reminder

This post will hopefully serve as a reminder of two things. #1: Never go out to my bee yard without my camera. And #2: Never go out without a hat. I have long hair, and bees can get amazingly tangles in it. It would also help to remember that flipping the hair around does not free said trapped be, but merely ensnares it more. I'm lucky I didn't get a stinger to the scalp. Although, I can tell I'm getting much more comfortable with the bees because never once did the bee in my hair cause me any heightened blood pressure. I simply went about my business with it's buzzing in my ear, and eventually it figured out a means of escape, and flew off. Sweet.


So I've already been out to check on the hives twice today. The first time was just after sunrise, say 7-ish and everyone was still sleeping. Now it's 11:30 and thing are a buzzing at the entrances. Well, one entrance anyway. The new swarm is coming and going like crazy. I didn't see any pollen on their legs, but I was only out there about five minutes. (The kids were in the house reading books.) The older hive looked deserted. I go it a bad feeling in my tummy as I stood there and only saw one bee return to the hive in the same amount of time I saw about 30 bees come and go at the other. Oh crap.


Today is the first good weather day in a a few so I had planned on suiting up, lighting the smoker, and doing a thorough inspection of the older hive when I got all the kids asleep. But, Lola has been taking a killer morning nap, and I didn't think I'd get another chance to go out there. I figured I might as well just take a little peek inside and see what I could see. That's when I got the bee in the hair.


Sadly, there wasn't much to look at. Most of the comb in there that had last been filled with bees and nectar looked empty and abandoned. All the bees that were in there we between two combs guarding a queen cell. Oh frick. Regina Apis is dead. I didn't get to see if they had anything to eat or if there was any capped brood (which would indicate reinforcements will soon be born to bolster their flagging numbers.) There were not very many bees in there at all... a couple hundred at the most. I hope there is an army out foraging, because the home fires are dwindling.


As far as I can tell, I have two options at this point. Let nature run it's course and see if they can hatch a new queen. She would have to successfully take her mating flight and make it back to the hive before she could even begin to lay. If Regina Apis died on Mother's Day May 8th and they made the Queen cell on May 9th there wouldn't be a chance of new eggs till May 30th or June 1st. It takes a little more than two weeks for a virgin queen to emerge from her cell and about another week for her to take her mating flights. I'm not sure there are enough bees left to hold out that long. (I could order a new queen through the mail, but I'm ruling that out because of the tiny population of the hive.)


The only other option I see is to destroy the queen cell and combine the hives. The swarm sure could use the comb any any stores from Regina's colony. Plus, it was a small swarm to begin with, and some more bees would help them I think. Then of course, the other bees sure could use a queen. I'm just not sure how to do it. If I moves the comb and the bees on the comb to the other hive would the bees out foraging be able to find their relocated sister? I have some research to do...

Eat Your Veggies

So, I don't usually buy food that comes in a box or a can. It's good on the budget and good on the waistline... but hard when you just want a quick snack. Like this morning. But, luckily Lola was napping when hunger struck, so I thought I'd get a jump start on lunch. I've been meaning to steam Lola some veggies to replace the 20 pounds of Cheerios she eats each day. (Cheerios I definitely buy in a box!) In the process I invented a dish for myself, and I liked it so much I thought I'd share.

Ingredients:

3 carrots
2 parsnips
1/2 a bag of coleslaw cabbage mix
1/2 a medium onion
3 cloves garlic minced
1/2 stick of butter
1 teaspoon of horseradish
salt and pepper to taste

I Chopped and steamed the carrots and parsnips for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, I melted the butter and sautéed the slaw, onion, and garlic. When the slaw mix was soft I added the steamed veggies and seasoned with horseradish, salt and pepper. Potatoes could have easily been used instead of parsnips

This might be my new favorite food. All it needed was some crumbled bacon on top. It was filling and savory with a touch of sweet.

Game On.

For those who can visualize: Lola just walked from the train table to the couch in the play room. Life as we have known it is over.

The Queen is Dead; Long Live the Queen!

Well, it's heartbreaking to have to share this with you, but, one of my hives is dead. Not just a little dead, but dead as a door-nail; dead as a zombie before resurrection; dead as Elvis without the sightings. Just dead. There are several factors that played into the demise of the bees. I think the biggest factor was the double layers of screen at the bottom of the hives that trapped countless girls right at the start severely crippling their build up. Then there was the cross comb issue. Did I write about that before? In brief, the situation was that the bees didn't seem to like the guides we built along the bars for them to follow and were building their combs perpendicular to the bars. This made it completely impossible to inspect the hive or manipulate the bars without breaking the comb from the bars. And here's were rubber meets the road: Am I beekeeper for the bees or the honey?


The solution, from the perspective of a beekeeper with hopes of someday harvesting honey or just being able to manage the hive at all, was to cut the comb out of the hive and rig it to the bars. However, my poor bees were already so depleted in numbers, and this procedure would likely result in the lives lost of both some bees and their brood. (Eggs and larva could be damaged by handling the combs or not putting them back in the right order. The bees use body heat to keep the brood at the exact right temperature and it has been an often chilly and rainy month). Part of me thought if these bees were to have a chance of survival at all it might be best just to give the hives to the universe, and give up any aspiration of managing them. 

Hair clips and pipe cleaners to reattach the comb to the bars

But, the part of me who liked the idea of just walking away was the part of me who had been stung repeatedly and was chicken-shit. The bigger part of me felt that I owed it to myself to get back on the horse and go out there and deal with my hives, gosh darn it. I had invested too much time, not to mention money just to be like, "Oh well, maybe next year." So, what did I do? 


I had courage delivered to me in a box:


A Badass Bee Suit. (Pictures of me geared up to follow) ;-) 


After the suit arrived, the next thing I did was enlist the help of my husband. Actually, he offered. I had been tormented and obsessed with the plight of my bees for several weeks, and I think he was eager to help me move on. Beekeeping is probably the first real challenge I've undertaken since natural childbirth, and I was really struggling when things didn't simply fall in to place. 


So, on Mother's Day, he dressed in a sweatshirt, kitchen gloves, and my old veil; armed himself with several different choices of knives and told me:


 "I'm going out there with you. But, I am going to do this so I can't get mad at you if I get the crap stung out of me. You're going to assist." Then we capitalized on nap time and went out to the hives to tackle the cross comb. I won' lie, even with my superwamidine bee suit, I was still incredibly nervous, and relieved that I could ride shotgun on this one. Once we got out there, my fears melted away pretty quickly. I don't know if it was the smoke or what, but the bees were as gentle as kittens. It was a fairly quick operation, and though there were a few glitches we both made it back to the house without a sting. The combs were all cut and rehung, and we didn't feel like there were too many squashed bees in the process. We both walked away from my bee-yard on a high. I felt like if we could break into the hives, cut apart all their hard work, and exit the situation without making the bees irritated, than I could do ANYTHING with these hives that needed to be done. I got my confidence back, and that was the best Mother's Day present possible. 


Well, we may have FELT like there weren't too many squashed bees, but there was at least one bee lost that day. Her majesty Queen Eleanor of Apiculture didn't survive the ordeal. I wen't out to the hives a little over a week later to check out the sugar syrup and made a very sad discovery... my 42 inch hive only had about twenty very sad bees in it clustered around a queen cell. This means a couple of things. First, that there HAD been a queen and that they had noticed her death very quickly. There must have been some very new eggs (three days old or less) laid in the hive when they realized they were queenless, and the bees built special queen cells for these eggs in the hopes of raising an new queen to replace the one we killed. Poor bees. Can you spot the queen cell? It's on the right with a worker on it. It kinda looks like some kind of jet puffed cereal. 

It was hard to pack up that hive and know that a mere month ago they came into my care 10,000 strong and in no time at all my choices had wiped this colony out of existence. I know it sounds a little melodramatic... But Mother Nature really gave me something to think about here. And yet... Perhaps unfortunately for honey bees everywhere this experience has not derailed my ambitions as a beekeeper. In fact, I have learned so much over the course of this month that I am more fired-up than ever to figure this out an succeed at beekeeping. 

Apparently the universe isn't against me continuing on as a beekeeper because I had the answer to my sad empty hive appear out of the clear blue sky, literally. This is what a fellow mom spotted at the park yesterday:

I was chilling with my babes on a blanket with a good friend (Kate, a fellow beekeeper) and her kids when my friend overheard a lady talking about a nearby bee swarm and jumped into the conversation. The woman  approached and warned us that there was a swarm of bees in a nearby tree, and we might want to keep our kids away. The two of us however, were so excited that we sprang up with our gaggle of kids in-tow to get a better look. 


We had been told that "The City" had been called and someone would be out to "take care" of the bees shortly. My first thought was really that I didn't want them exterminated. My second thought was that it would definitely be cool to have those bees take up residence in my empty hive. Luckily I knew just who to call. I've written about Tony before. He's pretty much my honey bee hero. I tried to play it cool waiting the the 20 or 30 minutes it took him to finish up what he was doing and head out to the park. I am so grateful to the friends I was with, because they totally watched my backward slide-climbing children while I hovered under the swarm with Lola making sure no one came to steal or kill them. I was so excited I was practically jumping out of my skin. 


Tony got there in no time, and totally made swarm catching look like a day at the park. Oh wait, it WAS a day at the park. He basically used a five gallon bucket at the end of a long pole and scooped the bees out of the tree and into the bucket with one swift and forceful swoosh. When he did, more than half the swarm was successfully caught. Many filled the air, and a more stayed clustered on the branch... He assumed the queen was still in the tree by the way the bees reclustered. One of the coolest things was to see some of the bees in the bucket crawl up to the lip and start fanning their wings to send their sent out onto the wind so that the other bees could find them. After a few minutes most of the bees in the air flew back to the branch and settled down. Tony used a step ladder and a pair of borrowed snips (Kate, just happened to have her gardening tools in her van after a trip to the community garden!!!) and snipped off the branch and added the remaining bees along with the branch to the bucket- It. Was. SO. Cool. 

Crappy pictures taken with my phone.

By then, my kids had been at the park WAY longer than we anticipated. All three of them had pink cheeks and were over-due for a nap. It was time to get them home. Tony stayed at the park for about for a while, giving the straggling bees time to find their sisters and make their way to the bucket. It was great though because, by the time Tony delivered the bees to my hours the kids had been fed and washed up and were on their way to naps. I could focus on the bees!

While at the park I had been excitedly trying to get a hold of my hard-working husband. I called several times and finally sent him and email that read, "CALL ME!!!!! (everyone is fine)." You see, though I had new bees, the hives hadn't yet been rehabed and I neeeeeeded him to come home and put a new bottom on my hive. You see, as soon as we had dead bees caught between the screen bottoms we ripped the outer layer of screen off. We assumed that the bead bees that were trapped between would simply fall to the bottom. But, they did not. When the outer layer of screen was removed their decaying and sticky little bodies remained trapped right where they were. I tried to poke them off with a stick from the outside with limited success, and their shear number made this impractical. So, in the end we simply ripped that screen off as well, leaving the bottom of the hives totally open. Before I could introduce my swarm to their new top bar hive, we had to get a bottom on there to keep them home!

You want to know how much my husband loves me. He came home from work. To put bottoms on both my hives. I pretty much think he is the coolest man alive. (And I'm glad he has such a flexible work schedule.)  It didn't take him long to measure and cut some proper sized boards to fit the bottom of the hive, and soon he and I were ready to attach them. Obviously, it was easy to attach the board without bees in it. (Except that the board, taken from our old balcony, was warped and there were a few touch-and-go moments when we thought it wouldn't go on.) Next we had to screw on the board to the hive with the bees still in it.... It was OK.

We tried to keep as many of them in the hive as we could by closing up their entrance, but because of the way the bottom board fit with the hive body there was still a pretty big gap that the bees could come and go through, right where I was crouching. About twenty or thirty (maybe it was ten) irritated guard bees came out to see what the heck all the commotion was. I was wearing jeans and a tank top, and I felt the breeze from their wings on my neck, some landed on my shoulders, and one crawled around my hand. I. Did. Not. Move. I breathed away from them. A millennia of fending off mice, raccoons, and bears has made bees defensive upon contact with a hot steamy stream of CO2. And you know what? That old adage is true: If you leave the bees alone, they will leave you alone! Even though we were drilling into their hive... no stings! My confidence grows.

Now came the moment of truth: Getting this bucket of bees into their new home. I suited up and walked the bees out to the hive practicing diaphragmatic breathing. Over and over I mentally replayed the instructions Tony had talked me through: Bonk the bucket on the ground to knock the bees down to the bottom. Undo the bungee cord and remove screen, grab the branch and tap firmly on the side of the hive so ALL the bees fall from the branch into the hive. Then double check that the branch is bee-free (the queen was likely there). Next, dump the remaining bees from the bucket into the hive; quickly replace all bars and cover. The end. And that is exactly what I did. I took a deep breath and just did it. I knocked that bucket with such authority that all the bees fell to the bottom stunned and hardly any took to the air as I whacked the few still on the branch in to the hive. They poured out of the bucket like water and fell in a heap at the bottom of the hive staring up at me like, "WTF, man?" A couple buzzed around as I replaced the bars, but the hardest part was putting my heavy and unwieldy 48" gabled cover back on the hive! I did it and let out a whoop that they could probably hear in Kansas!

I did it! I did it! I did it!

I wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon out there sitting and watching the bees... but of course my motherly duty called me away. Today however, as soon as Lola was napping the big kids and I went out to see how everyone was settling in. Jacob stayed down by the tire swing, but my excited little Georgia wanted to visit the bees so up we went. Everything looked great!

One of the things I like about beekeeping is how it is a little bit like playing detective. You don't actually have to take the hive all apart to tell some of what's going on in there. Take for example this next picture.

What you are looking at is the entrance to the hive where the swarm is now living. (Can anyone think of a renegade queen to name the new matriarch after? Bloody Bee Mary?) Tony suggested that I wanted to close up all entrances of the hive to at least a quarter inch, so the workers could come and go but the queen had to stay home. He gave me this little bit from a queen excluder and Smoochy stapled it over their only entrance. You can see two workers coming and going. That is AWESOME because it means the queen is in there and they are getting to work. If their were no bees coming or going, it would be a pretty clear indication that I did not get the queen in the hive because the swarm would have vacated, found her and moved on. Cool, huh? This big fat guy you see hanging on the outside is an unlucky drone who wants in fro some free lunch but is too big to fit through the gate. Lucky for him, any hive will take his lazy ass in; hopefully he find his way over to Regina Apis' place before he starves.

A few other pictures to show you the bottoms we put on the hive. They make me very happy.

The swarm house

Notice the little strip tacked on to cover the gap? SOme day I'll be able to take that off and the bees can use it as an entrance. It will also allow me to easily slide in a sticky board to catch an monitor for mites! I'm so happy about it!!!

Regina Apis' House

Notice the gap? The bees love it for an entrance.

 It's official: I feel like a real beekeeper. 

Pity and the Natural Order of Things

So, those gorgeous windows I was writing about yesterday? Well, they aren't only good for bird watching. They also happen to be great for bird killing. Sad but true, there isn't a day that goes by that we don't hear the THUMP of some innocent and unsuspecting birdy braining himself against the glass. At first it used to startle me... now I hardly notice. The collision isn't alway fatal to our feathered friends, but it often is. I'm sure the local scavengers think of the perimeter of our house as an all day dead bird-buffette. Nice huh?


Well this morning we discovered a little grey bird on it's back outside by the slider off the dining area. Another goner we all assumed, until with a great and awkward effort the poor guy kicked rolled, and flapped his way on to his stomach where he sat pathetically motionless except for the labored heave of breath. He was a sorry sight, and I didn't think he'd last the hour. And yet, two hours later he was still in the exact same spot, in the exact same position hanging on.  By this time the kids had hit me with every question about birds, windows, and boo-boos you can imagine. Normy must have told me a dozen times that the bird needed a band-aid and Georgia was insistent that she, the animal rescuer, should be entrusted with the care of "the little baby bird who misses his mama."


I tried as gently as I could to let the kids know that this was a wild animal, and there really wasn't much that could be done to help it. All the while inside I thought the only help I had to offer was a swift death. Of course, I couldn't bring myself to actually do that. Instead, against all odds, I brought the poor crippled thing a pile of crumbs left over from Lola's mashed toast and a shallow dish of water. I had read some place that birds had to eat very regularly and often because of their high metabolism and I must have secretly hoped that just MAYBE...


Surly, if I had any hope for the bird it was on an unconscious level. On the way to Norm's speech therapy this morning I was contemplating how to deal with the bird's death and the questions the children would inevitably ask when we came home to find his little body toppled-over lifeless on the patio. As it was Georgia talked about him incessantly on the drive. I told him he'd likely be dead when we got home.


"Where will he go then?" she asks.


"Well, we'll dig a little hole and give him back to the Earth." I tell her.


"What about the worms?" she asks. She really loves worms.


"Well, the worms will eat the birds body and turn it back in to the soil to help plants grow." I go on.


"Why?"


"That's the circle of life..." pretty heavy stuff at eight o'clock with a three year-old.


Our day progressed, and a few hours later I found myself dashing back into the house to grab a few forgotten things while the girls chilled in the car listening to the radio. I peeked out the sliding glass door and there was the bird. Still there. Still sitting. Still laboriously breathing. "Crap." I thought. I walked back into the kitchen (my back to the bird) resolved to grab my kitchen gloves and put the poor broken thing out of it's misery then remove its remains. That way it  would be believable when I told the children that the bird made a miraculous recovery and flew away. But, when I turned back around the bird was gone! I didn't see him fly off; he was just gone. It was as though he'd never been there except for the few hopeful crumbs I put out for him, the smudge he made on the sliding glass door, and a little pile of birdy poop right by his water dish. I wonder if he read my mind?

I was beyond relief. Later that day however, Georgia was disappointed. She said, "But, I was supposed to return him to the Earth!" Sorry kid, maybe next time.

Out The Window

There can be no question, the thing I love most about this house is the windows. The one in the playroom is lovely, but the ones in the living room are divine. Everyone gravitates to this spot to sit and stair out. We watch for deer, mallards, cardinals, robins, black squirrels, deer, deer, and more deer. These days I stair out and look for poison ivy.... but whatever. 

The other big attraction for me is the trellis and mini-patio by the front door. I spent tons of time on-line imagining living in this house and setting my chair by these planters and enjoying the smells of all the flowers I was going to plant there. Last year I was too pregnant with Lola to do anything outside so a deer friend came over with trays of impatiens and filled up the planters. This year I planted them with cosmos, nasturtiums, and calendula and it looks as though every thing is coming up. Georgia was so excited this morning to go out and see all the little seedlings that she helped me plant. Their appearance out of the dirt must seem like magic to her... is sure does to me.

Apparently, I'm not alone in thinking this is quite the peaceful and lovely little spot. We've had a mama robin make her nest in the trellises right out front. I must confess, I am a little shocked by her choice of location. You'd think a bird would want a spot a little more private than by out front door. Every time she catches me starring at her from INSIDE the house she freezes. And the thunder of racing children's feet on our hardwood floors sends her into the say. I can't help but wonder if her poor eggs will hatch. I really hope so. It would be so cool to see her babies get big. In the mean time, we'll just wait and enjoy the privilege of watching her sit. Spring is quickly becoming my favorite season.

You've got to take the good with the bad...

Especially when it comes to forest gardening.

The Good:
My calendula flowers have started coming up. My starts are weathering the elements fantastically after 6 days of hardening off. (I hope to plant them Thursday...) After thinning my snap peas, they are doing great. The baby lilacs are thriving. And best of all, I have been seeing honey bees foraging all the time. Just a few minuets ago I saw one investigating my starts on the patio.

The Bad:

Today I pulled a GARBAGE BAG full of poison ivy off our property. (Wearing pants, long sleeves, two pairs of gloves, boots and goggles.) This was after ripping out tons of it on Saturday. And there is still tons more out there. Of course as a beekeeper, and a citizen of Earth standing in defiance agains Monsanto, Round-up isn't an option. Although after some research I am thinking Tamworth pigs. Pig roast anyone?

As Lola would say these days, "Uh-oh!"

Happy Friday!

Our weekend is off to a good start. Hope yours is too!

She Gardens

Ah ha! It is official. After years of imagining myself with a garden, I am officially off and running with a bonafide plot all of my own. Seeds went INTO the earth yesterday, people! I feel so fulfilled and happy with myself. Yesterday Lola granted me two lengthy naps (earning her the title of Best Baby EVER). The first was while Normy was at Pre-K, so Georgia and I were able to go out together and get our hands dirty. First thing first though, we had a little outside snack.

Next I drug out all of my starts from the basement and set them out for their first day of hardening off. I felt like a protective mother taking her kid to the bus stop for the first time. Was the wind too strong? Was the day too cool? How would they do in the sun? They did just fine, and after four hours found themselves back safe inside under their lights. (Today I didn't put them out , though because the wind is crazy strong.)

After that Georgia and I planted cosmos in the planters out front, calendula seeds in a pot, and a pot of rosemary. That was about the time Georgia got bored and went in to do montessori math and letter games on the Ipad.

I however, went on to plant tomatoes, peppers, carrots, parsley, kale, and spinach in with the snap peas I already have growing nicely in what will surely be a deer buffet. I don't have fence. And as of yet, have been unable to get my husband to pee around the garden's perimeter. He claims it is too far a walk from the tree by the garage, which is his spot of choice.

I have also started a little space as a bee garden. Foxglove, canterbury bells, columbine, chives, and alyssum should start popping up there over the next few weeks if the gardening gods smile on me. I'm hopping to add some sunflowers, mexican sunflowers, and butterfly weed before the week is over.


But there is NOTHING I am more excited about than the flowering cabbage I have started under my grow lights right now. I don't know what it is about these lovely plants that really make me happy, but they are the only thing I really care if makes it this year... Funny because I haven't exactly figured out where to put them. I fell in love with them during a trip to Omaha's botanical garden and can't stop thinking about them.

image shamelessly stolen from here

I had a moment of pure bliss yesterday. After watering my newly planted lilac twig (hopefully someday a bush) the sun was warm and happily shining down on me and my garden plot. I thought it might be a nice time to visit the bees. I had seen several drinking at our pond and a few more in the creeping charlie... but I wanted to see the action out at the bee boxes. They didn't disappoint. Little gals flying into the hives with heavily laden pollen legs, plenty of activity, and an overall happy hum emanated from both front entrances.  Perfect.


So that's cool. As of this week I am both a new beekeeper and an new gardener. It's official because I have  been stung by the bees and I am currently covered in calamine lotion to deal with a nasty run-in with poison ivy! How sweet is that?

Sweet Delays

Naps were delayed today because I had to grind grain and vacuum. Neither activity is conducive to sleeping children. So, I sent my brood up-stairs to play while I finished my work. For a while all I heard was the sounds of them pummeling each other. (Over the sounds of the grinding grain and vacuum, mind you.) Then... nothing. Fearing the worst, I rushed up stairs and stumbled upon this precious scene. 

 Sweet babies!

We spent all weekend outside...

I'd write about it, but I'm too exhausted from all the fresh air, gardening, and toddler washing. They get so dirty!!!