smokin’ hot

When Brother Dear was here last week, we drove him an hour south to Chico, home of Sierra Nevada Brewing Co., for a tour of the facilities — if you don’t know, Brother Dear is a Super Beer Geek and creates incredibly tasty brews in our pump house – Sierra Nevada is kind of where it all started for Beer Geeks.  Anyway, the roads from here to Chico are lined with almonds, walnuts, and olives, and pallets of bee hives everywhere.  Northern California is completely inundated with bees and beekeepers, and Brother Dear and I were amazed.

This week, Honeydew was constantly on the phone, discussing hive numbers, strength, location, and when the almond growers are likely to call for the bees to go into the orchards.  He and Keith – rehired for spring and summer! – spent a lot of time out in the holding yards, going through all of our hives to check on their readiness to go into the almonds.  You can’t just throw a hive of half dead bees into an orchard and expect it do much almond pollinating – and you can’t expect an almond grower to pay you for your lack of effort, either.  Bees are “graded” when they go into the almonds, a process I’ll go into another day, but suffice it to say, we’re inspecting the bees right now prior to their “grade.”

Honeydew has been in a mighty good mood all week – he can never be sure just what he’ll find when he goes out to work the bees for the first time since fall.  Sometimes the bees eat more honey than he anticipated, or sometimes they’re struck by disease, but the end result is that most beekeepers will find a few dead hives this time of year.  And so the topic of “loss” is a hot one in beekeeping households right now.

However, we don’t normally have loss due to fire like these hives below!

Yep, somehow the tenants near our “junkyard holding yard” set two of our hives on fire.  Not sure how they managed to do that, but awfully happy it was only two!  However, even with the fire, our loss rate is only at 3.3% – and that IS smokin’ hot!  We’re happy campers right now.

Not so much heat at the Warehome right now, though.  Brother Dear sent us this picture yesterday.

And suddenly, I’m not homesick at all …

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  Some photo credits to Sanford Stone. All Rights Reserved.

 

settling in

California has startled me all week, delighting me with its produce and pockets of sixty-degrees-on-the-deck sunshine, frightening me with its aggressive traffic and lack of eye contact.  However, my good experiences are definitely outweighing the bad, and between our cozy house and kind beekeeper friends, California has quickly felt like home.  Or maybe I just missed closets, windows, and drawers – who knows?

Maggie Rose has been a trooper through the ups and downs and endless red lights.   She seems startled, too.  Who is this mother who doesn’t disappear for hours at a time to pour hot beeswax and honey?  Hmmm.  I wonder, too, Maggie, but I’m enjoying so much time with you.

Mmmmm, avocado!

Sushi with Uncle Brother Dear!  This place – Yama Sushi in Redding – is so fun – you can order whatever you like, but the chefs also send boats filled with tempting sushi choices and if you like what you see, you just grab the plate off the boat!  Maggie was beyond fascinated.  Me, too.

Shopping is fun! 

LET ME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Out for a walk!  Maggie loves non-fifty-degrees-below-zero wind chill values.

And one we posted to our Facebook page earlier this week, in case you missed it – our Honey Bunny.

Happy Thursday!

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

 

reunited

We sent our lovely bee ladies down to California back in November, and we’ve missed them.

To answer a frequently asked question as to why we send them to California in late fall, no, it’s not that the bees can’t survive a Montana winter – to the contrary, before Honeydew started bringing them down to California for the almond pollination project (about ten years ago), his dad had always wintered them through Montana’s extreme winds and temperatures.  And that’s one of the reasons we run Carniolans – they’re better suited for arctic blasts.  Last year, we didn’t have enough room on the California trucks to send all of our hives, and we kept about ten in our home yard.  It was a winter of epic snowfall, and when spring came, I was amazed to snowshoe down to the home yard and find the hives looking like tree wells, producing enough heat to melt the snow immediately encasing them.

So, the bees would be fine in December, and in February, and in April, in Montana.  But the semi truck driver might have an awfully hard time driving into the holding yard to load the bees if we waited any longer than early November to send them South.  So off the go, where they are met by our dear friend and mentor, Steve Park, who supervises them for us until we arrive in January.  Thanks, Steve, Jim, and co.

As soon as we got here, Honeydew went out to check on the bees, leaving me in our new home to meet the propane man to hook up the gas, the Dish guy to hook up ESPN, and so on.  But he brought back good reports – it’s been very cool for California, so the bees are hanging out in big clusters at the bottom of the hives, but they’re healthy and more than ready to go do their thing with the almonds.

Won’t be much longer now and we’ll be moving ‘em into the orchards!

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

 

eight months

Maggie Rose is eight months old as of yesterday, when this picture was taken.  Honeydew and I are trying to get her to laugh in this picture, and I think we look pretty certifiable as a result.

Adorable outfit courtesy of Maggie’s Sissy.  Mini Frye boots courtesy of Catherine Harcus.  I can’t believe my eight month old owns the boots I’ve always coveted!  Ridiculous!

On a different note – any tips readers might have on convincing an eight month old that solid foods are fun is welcomed in the comments – somehow, the child of two parents who talk of nothing but their next meal is not interested in homemade baby food, purchased baby food, table scraps, or anything but Similac’s finest and Baby Mum Mums, essentially rice crackers.  Hmmm.  What do y’all think?

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

 

never satisfied

I wish we could get in, too, boys.

I guess I’m a farmer after all … in Babb it was too cold, in California it’s too wet …

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

 

the Babb-ely Hillbillies arrive in California

The Great Migration went off, more or less, without a hitch!  Oh, the Two Ton broke down in Helena on the second morning of our trip, but that was practically to be expected and only delayed us by a couple of hours.  We’d recommend the folks at Grizzly Diesel if you break down in that area.

At any rate, we crossed the California state line mid-morning on Wednesday, and I promptly observed more law enforcement vehicles that I’ve seen in the last five years combined total.  Wow.  But pulling into our driveway near Redding more than made up for it.  The little house we’ve rented is just perfect for us, and although Honeydew and I are both proud of our Warehome, and all that it represents to us, we’re pretty happy to be living in an actual house.  Amazing water pressure, windows, non-concrete floors, hot water that doesn’t take five minutes (literally) to arrive in the two-and-a-half-bathrooms (oh happy day – this will be good for our marriage), and a deck nearly as big as the house itself … we hardly know what to do with ourselves.

The house itself is small but bursting with fun upgrades (gas top range! double ovens! dual shower heads!), and I’m grateful that it’s small – the only furniture we brought with us is Maggie’s crib, and although our beekeeping friends have showered us with free furniture loaners, I’m happy we won’t have much to return in May.  Not to mention, I won’t have much to clean in the interim.  Keeping up with the Warehome’s 10,000 sq ft of floors has proven impossible for me, and depressing.

And while the house isn’t all that big, the yard more than makes up for it.  It’s completely fenced, which Buck and Roy appreciate, and is peppered with raised beds for gardening, an orange tree laden with fruit, and a small above ground pool that I can’t wait to get Maggie into.

I would love to know why this home is being rented, really – the owners obviously loved this place, and with views that make you forget you’re living in a sizeable town with neighbors on every side, what’s not to love?

Live oaks and Digger pines surround us.  I feel so at home, like I’m in Georgia.

Maggie helping me unpack our kitchen boxes.

Home sweet temporary Home!

Thanks so much for all your well wishes for the Great Migration.  We’re glad to be here.  Fingers crossed for a beautiful almond bloom and healthy honeybees for pollination.

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

 

Perks

There are not too many perks on the Great Migration to California – ask Brother Dear, who just survived driving the Dodge/Forklift Trailer Combo through a metropolitan area at rush hour, Buck breathing heavily on him through it all.
However, said metropolitan area — Reno — is really the only one on our journey, and it just so happened that we hit it about the same time we hit the eleven-hours-of-driving mark. Pre-Maggie, I wouldn’t have considered stopping with “only” eleven hours in. But we did and turned the stop into a perk, checking into one of the casinos that offers gorgeously comfortable rooms for far less than we paid for our moldy, smoky, can’t-believe-it’s-not-rented-by-the-hour room at the Pocatello Ramada. Said casino also features a great steakhouse, and we introduced Maggie to white tablecloths, seared ahi, and Steele Pinot Noir. Luckily, the place was practically empty and the white jacketed waiters seemed charmed by Maggie playing in the floor and sampling bits of lavash.

Hard to believe that less than eight months ago she was in the NICU and now she only needs to hold one of my hands to stand. Maggie says, California here we come!
2012. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved,

 

Co-pilot

Maggie Rose is invaluable as we make our way to California.

To say nothing of Roy and Buck, our pups. Y’all keep your fingers crossed for clear weather over the last pass!

2012. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.

 

convoy!

We spent the weekend cleaning out trucks, rewiring trailers, and packing up Maggie’s toys in preparation for our Great Migration to California.  But don’t worry – Brother Dear is staying behind to act as the Shipping Specialist for www.glaciercountyhoney.com and to keep the Warehome in good order.  Not sure what we would do without Brother Dear.  At the moment, he’s driving the One-And-A-Half-Ton Dodge to California as part of our Convoy.

Brother Dear is dragging the forklift behind the Dodge, too.

I’m in the Tahoe, dragging the utility trailer with Maggie’s crib, my sandals, Honeydew’s white t-shirts, and all our “essentials.”

And Honeydew is leading the way in the Two Ton.  Yes, we did eventually get it started and the brakelines thawed in the negative temperatures.

Here are the stats for the beginning of the Great Migration.

Last drive down West Shore Road for quite a while.  Don’t change on us while we’re gone, Montana.

CONVOY! – Lyrics by C.W. McCall

Ah, breaker one-nine, this heres the rubber duck. you gotta copy on me, pig pen, cmon?

ah, yeah, 10-4, pig pen, fer shure, fer shure. by golly, its clean clear to flag town, cmon.

yeah, that Big 10-4 there, pig pen, yeah, we definitely got the front door, good buddy. mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a convoy…

It was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June

And a Kenworth pullin’ logs

Cab-over Pete with a reefer on

And a Jimmy haulin’ hogs

We’s headin’ for bear on Eye-one-O

’bout a mile outta Shakeytown

I says “Pigpen, this here’s Rubber Duck”

“And I’m about to put the hammer down”

(’cause we got a little ole convoy rockin’ thru the night)

(Yeah, we got a little ole convoy, ain’t she a beautiful sight?)

(Come on and join our convoy, ain’t nothin’ gonna get in our way)

(We gonna roll this truckin’ convoy ‘cross the USA)

(Convoy)

[on the cb]

Ah, breaker, pig pen, this heres the duck. and, you wanna back off them hogs?

yeah, 10-4, bout five mile or so. ten, roger.

them hogs is gettin in-tense up here.

By the time we got into Tulsa-town we had 85 trucks in all

But there’s a roadblock up on the cloverleaf

And them bears ‘s wall-to-wall

Yeah, them smokeys ‘s thick as bugs on a bumper

They even had a bear in the air

I says “Callin’ all trucks, this here’s the Duck”

“We about to go a-huntin’ bear”

(’cause we got a great big convoy rockin’ thru the night)

(Yeah, we got a great big convoy, ain’t she a beautiful sight?)

(Come on and join our convoy, ain’t nothin’ gonna get in our way)

(We gonna roll this truckin’ convoy ‘cross the USA)

(Convoy)

[on the cb]

Ah, you wanna give me a 10-9 on that, pig pen? negatory, pig pen; youre still too close. yeah,

them hogs is startin to close up my sinuses. mercy sakes, you better back off another ten.

Well, we rolled up Interstate Forty-Four

Like a rocket-sled on rails

We tore up all of our swindle sheets

And left ‘em settin’ on the scales

By the time we hit that “Chi-town”

Them bears was a-gettin smart

They brought up some reinforcements

From the “Illinois” National Guard

There’s armored cars and tanks and jeeps

‘n’ rigs of ev’ry size

Yeah, them chicken coops was full of bears

And choppers filled the skies

Well, we shot the line, we went for broke

With a thousand screamin’ trucks

And eleven long-haired friends of Jesus

In a chartreuse microbus

[on the cb]

Ah, rubber duck to sodbuster, come over. yeah, 10-4, sodbuster? lissen, you wanna put that micra-bus right behind that suicide jockey?

yeah, hes haulin dynamite, and he needs all the help he can hear.

Well, we laid a strip for the Jersey Shore

Prepared to cross the line

I could see the bridge was lined with bears

But I didn’t have a doggone dime

I says “Pigpen, this here’s the Rubber Duck”

“We just ain’t a-gonna pay no toll”

So we crashed the gate doin’ ninety-eight

I says “let them truckers roll, ten-four”

(’cause we got a mighty convoy rockin’ thru the night)

(Yeah, we got a mighty convoy, ain’t she a beautiful sight?)

(Come on and join our convoy, ain’t nothin’ gonna get in our way)

(Convoy!) ah, 10-4, pig pen, whats your twenty?

(Convoy!) omaha? well, they oughta know what to do with them hogs out there fer shure. well, mercy

(Convoy!) sakes, good buddy, we gonna back on outta here, so keep the bugs off your glass and the bears off your…

(Convoy!) tail. well catch you on the flip-flop. this heres the rubber duck on the side.

(Convoy!) we gone. bye,bye.

(We gonna roll this truckin’ convoy ‘cross the USA)

(Convoy)

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

 

beekeeper ingenuity

Listening to the beekeepers trade stories about the gadgets they’ve jerry rigged, duct taped, and invented, in order to ease the production of honey, the rendering of wax, and the raising of queens, is my probably my favorite part of the convention.  It seems there’s nothing a beekeeper can’t fix or improve upon – and that’s a good thing, since so many of us choose to live hundreds of miles from Home Depots and the like.  It also makes for an attractive quality in a husband or wife – Honeydew takes his sweet time about my Honey Do list, but he’s never come to me and declared an item “impossible.”  May Maggie Rose inherit that part of his brain, as that part of mine is woefully underdeveloped.

At any rate, the below picture is not the best example of this fix-it-brilliance, but for me, it underlines that while Honeydew may not be “creative” in the liberal-arts-education-sense, his creativity knows no bounds and is far more useful, in a day to day way, than mine could ever be.

How to get our money’s worth out of our zillion dollar forklift, absolutely essential to our beekeeping operation February-October, but not so essential November-January?  Why, just put it to use in the wood splitting operation!  And then open the garage door to your Warehome living room and drive right in with the load of wood for the stove!

If it were me, I’d still be out there in the snowstorm, stacking wood into a carrier and trying to throw my back out.  Good work, honey.

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.