July 3, 2014
We have much to report: the 1st birthday of our youngest beekeeper, the opening of the Going-to-the-Sun Road, the arrival of July … but first, an announcement:
We hope you’ll stop by and see us! Please call Courtney at 406-544-2818 or email sales@glaciercountyhoney.com with any questions.
2014. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
April 17, 2014
As ever, Northern California in April does not disappoint. The flora is so similar to the springs of my youth, in the South, that I walk the varying lengths of our Palo Cedro driveway, the Sacramento River Trail, and the upscale neighborhoods of Redding under brilliantly blue 80F skies in a fog of nostalgia.
The fluffy redbuds and rust tipped dogwood blossoms — both the state flower and tree of my Virginia birthplace — remind me of Palm Sundays and Easters in the Presbyterian and Methodist churches I grew up in. There is a oval bush bursting with white, powdery flowers whose scent takes me to the Big Farm, but whose name I forgot somewhere along a trail that taught me about the aspen, larch, and white bark pines of Montana. At night, the tall yellow roses, which remind me of first lessons from my mother as I learned to say “Tropicana,” drift in on the the breeze, and I dream about walking through Grandma Betty’s magical yard with my children.
There’s been much bee work to be done in California, and I’ve written a lot about it over the years. In this first spring of Howard’s life, I’ve been an absentee blogger, but I’ll write about all that bee work again, in a different season of my life. After all 1,500 hives of bees do not magically re-queen themselves. But as the work has wound down, we’ve found time to play, too.
Over the weekend, we traveled south and met up with with very dear friends in Inverness, at Point Reyes National Seashore, literally on the San Andreas Fault just north of San Francisco. This landscape was wholly new to both Honeydew and I. A rollercoaster of a highway winds through hills rocky one moment and grassy the next. We saw acres of fat dairy cows. We also saw a bobcat, numerous deer, and kept our eyes sharp for Tule elk on these ever changing landscapes, which end abruptly in enormous cliffs at the edge of the continent. Easing our toes into the frigid Pacific, we passed the time looking for whales, sea lions, and seals, while our little girls played with all of their hearts, as only small children can, and baby Howard looked on in longing as he stuffed fistfuls of sand down his diaper.
The area’s arresting beauty was a sensory treat, but even better was the reconnection with friends that I’ve called mine since we all slung drinks and steaks at Charlie’s and the Babb Bar/Cattle Baron in the early 2000s. During one season of our enduring summer friendship, I lived with them in the A-frame at Chief Mountain Junction, where I slept the deep sleep of the night shift, and my future husband drove past the A-frame in those same pre-dawn hours, on his way to his senior year of high school in Cardston, Alberta, Canada.
Since that time, we’ve been in each other’s weddings but been parted by the professional and personal goals that required accomplishment outside of our beloved Babb. Holding each other’s children’s hands down precarious lighthouse stairs, in the whirling currents of the mighty Pacific, and in lukewarm hot tubs, we talked-talked-talked, and we learned that time had not dimmed our appreciation for each other. It was though we had picked up a conversation begun the night before, as we sipped Grateful Deads and twirled along Charlie’s sticky stage, and happily Honeydew, though he did not know them very well before, came away equally contented in a new friendship.
All year I write and think obsessively of July, and I am always surprised by how soothing spring’s cycle of renewal is, in the flora, fauna, and friendships of our lives.
2014. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
March 7, 2014
Sorry, beekeepers. No shots of beautiful almond orchards or fat bees here. Just baby beekeepers, as the rain kept me and my camera out of the orchards this week.
But how lucky we are, as commercial beekeepers, to be working in a cycle wherein it is profitable to send our bees to California, profitable enough that our entire family can gather together a few times over the course of the almond pollination-shaking-splitting-requeening season.
It hasn’t always been this way. It probably won’t always be this way. This is agriculture, after all.
But for now, Honeydew and I are very grateful that he was able to come home to Montana for a little while, after he got the bees into the almond orchards north of Sacramento, and that I was able to bring our family to California for a little while, right before he took them out.
Of course, Mother Nature don’t cotton to no Google calendar, and we didn’t see much of Honeydew at the end of our trip, as he was busy hauling bees out of very muddy (thank you, Mother Nature, for the much needed California rain) almond orchards. But we recognize just how lucky we are. And while Daddy was busy with those bees, the sun came out, and the tiny tots and I fell back in love with Redding, California.
On a clear day, Mts. Shasta and Lassen mesmerize, and the Sacramento River Trail beckons a woman with an enormous double stroller who’s been cooped up in Winter Wonderland. Today alone, I pushed that stroller nearly ten miles, stopping at various parks to swing and slide and monkey bar;
detouring into downtown Redding for Cool Cucumber frozen yogurt;
picnicking on the banks of the Sacramento and throwing rocks into “Lake Redding;”
gawking at skateboarders (Maggie: “What is that, Mama?” “That’s a skateboarder, Maggie Rose.” “I want to be one.”); feeding parrots at Turtle Bay (for at least fifteen minutes, Mama-with-parrots-perched-on-her-arms was every bit as cool as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny);
counting turtles on a log near the Sacramento River; rolling a ball to Brother at yet another park;
and watching both dissolve into tears when, after six hours, I announced it was time to go home.
California, Montana stole my heart when I was nine, and it’s not mine to give away. But you’re an awfully torrid affair this time of the year.
2014. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
December 25, 2013
It’s been a wild day at our house, to say the least! After staying up till 1am to make sure our two-and-a-half-year-old’s Christmas was “perfect,” she took one look at the (awesome) John Deere “Gator” Santa brought and refused to go anywhere near it. This, despite the fact that her “best friend” Axel has a similar John Deere ride that she is obsessed with. Hmmm. Instead, Maggie delighted in the many nail polish colors and fleecy purple jacket Santa also left behind, and also in his half-eaten cookies.
What do you want Santa to bring you, Maggie Rose? Purple presents! And blue presents!
As the morning wore on, she did finally deign to sit in the darn thing, and once she did, it was true love.
We all speak of and delight in our traditions, but what I really love best about Christmas is that the sparkle of the lights in December’s blackness is ever magical, but the players are never quite the same.
Babyman, you’re my favorite new player.
Maggie Rose modeling the holly print dress Big Mama made for me over 30 years ago.
This year, we celebrated with most of Honeydew’s mother’s side of the family the weekend before Christmas. Prime rib melted in our mouths, Jingle Juice flushed our cheeks, and the cacophony of the cousins made me wistful for a large family, and yet grateful for the occasional silence that does occasionally fall over our two kids simultaneously. It was a wonderfully exhausting weekend.
For Christmas proper, we were lucky enough to be in our own home with our two tiny tots, and Brother Dear and my parents and Honeydew’s dad all came to us! For the carseat/naptime set, being Home with your family is the greatest gift of all, I think. Or at least it is for us after 30 solid days of Holiday Retail Insanity. We put the “closed” sign up on the Glacier County Honey website on Friday, December 20, and although I’m sure we lost some sales in the last few days before the 25th, nothing we shipped after the 20th would have arrived by Christmas anyway, and the time with our family is priceless to us.
I love the aforementioned lights, I love the tinny carols pouring from the radio waves, I love wrapping the mailbox in fresh garland, I love picking out the perfect trinket for everyone on my list, and I love making lemon spice sauce, bourbon whipped cream, and shrimp’n’grits from scratch …….. but I am glad that it’s all over with now.
Time to pour a glass of bubbly, breathe deeply of Howard’s waning new baby scent, meticulously apply paint to each of Maggie Rose’s tiny nails, and lean against my husband on the couch. We’ll clean up next year.
Taking the Snow Belle out for a spin!
The biggest hit of Christmas was probably the reincarnation of our old Brio train set. Nan and Chuck added a few new parts for Maggie Rose and Howard, built a table for it, installed the whole shebang upstairs and I haven’t seen Maggie since.
Merry Christmas, y’all!
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. Some photo credits to Nancy Stone. All Rights Reserved.
November 30, 2013
Oh, the highs and lows of small business. There isn’t enough room on the internets for the tales of joy and woe we could tell, so we’ll say this: despite the extremities, we couldn’t imagine any other life, and we’re proud of what we’ve accomplished. On June 1, 2014, we will celebrate five years in small business!
To celebrate Small Business Saturday, we’re offering a FREE Honeybear Beeswax Candle (regular price: $12) with any purchase over $29!
If you’d like one of these candles — our runaway bestseller in 2013! — just add one to your shopping cart on www.glaciercountyhoney.com. When you check out, our website will e-mail you an incorrect invoice charging you for the candle. Wait a little while, and we’ll e-mail you an updated, corrected invoice with credit/debit/check payment options. If you have any questions, please e-mail sales@glaciercountyhoney.com or call 406-544-2818.
If you have other discount codes, feel free to use those, too. We appreciate your support more than we can say as we look towards our 5th year. Shop Small, y’all.
The fine print: must order $29 before other discounts in merchandise. Offer expires at midnight MST on Small Biz Saturday 2013. Don’t make Santa mad. Etc.
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
October 31, 2013
Happy Halloween from all the beekeepers at Glacier County Honey Co!
August 1, 2013
Dear July,
Our history together is storied, though I cannot know if our love affair is one sided or not. I try to celebrate you fully, and yesterday, during my daily mad dash to the post office, I paused for a moment on our dusty dirt road and drank in the goodness of the last day of your July-ness, and I thought to write to you and recap our best moments together this year.
As anyone who’s read this blog for any period of time knows, you are by far my favorite month of the year, and I was a little heartbroken when I awoke this morning in the cool quiet and realized today is August 1.
Oh, July.
We worked on most of your days this year, as the result of the start to what Honeydew and I think will be a very fine honey harvest. Can’t complain about that. Thank you for your bountiful sunshine and calm winds that helped the bees make such a great crop.
But there was time for play, too.
In memory of my brother, Howard, we participated in our annual Beer Olympics. Remarkably, for the 7th year in a row, the only injuries suffered by the enthusiastic participants were ones to the ego.
Notably in July, our new son Howard met his Sissy, and it was true love on both sides.
And Maggie learned about sharing Nan’s lap:
Maggie Rose also went on her first self-propelled hike, with me, Howard, Nan and Chuck, around the Red Eagle Nature Trail. It was a little too long for a 2 year old, but listening to Maggie chanting “Maggie hikin’!” for the first mile or so was the best sound these ears have ever heard. Of course this would happen in July.
Since then, Maggie’s hiked from Sunrift Gorge to Sun Point, and up to Hidden Pass from Logan Pass. I really can’t say whether or not she actually likes hiking, but she surely does like the ice cream that inevitably follows it!
Ugh. Blue, bubblegum ice cream. Maybe we don’t share the same tastebuds after all, Maggie Rose!
On July 4, we held our annual Parade & Potluck at Duck Lake, and Maggie once again fulfilled her Royal Duties.
She also played her first game of kickball, in the Big Field. I’d be willing to bet she’s the only two year old in Montana who played kickball in July wearing Lilly Pulitzer — thanks to Southern friends for keeping her true to her roots!
Honeydew and I always say that Maggie was born in the Summer of the Snow. Remember this? Well, it practically stuck around till the next winter! We’ll tell Howard that he was born in the Summer of the Bears. They were legion and storied in July 2013. This guy stole our volleyball during the Hillstock festivities:
As the month wore on, a lovely woman who spends her summers at Duck Lake was attacked by a bear while walking just north of the lake. Not long after that, I ran into a black bear near Sun Point while carrying Howard, holding Maggie Rose’s hand, and trying to keep up with my 8 and 10 year old niece and nephew. And then our dear friend, The Bear Ranger for Glacier National Park, heard a late night noise in her kitchen and discovered that a black bear had jimmied open the latched screen door and let himself in. Now, what are the Las Vegas odds on that?
Definitely the Summer of the Bears.
Howard grew and grew each day of July, although at first his relative tiny-ness next to Maggie Rose concerned me, and I worried. Funny how you can forget infancy’s fragility in two short years. He’s just fine.
July, thank you for your good humour and kind countenance.
I will miss each you day until we are re-united. Tell March to be gentle with me.
Love, Courtney
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. Some photo credits to Charlie Stone. All Rights Reserved.
July 30, 2013
In the midst of all the general harvest time insanity around here, our local FSA office called and wanted to know if we could help entertain USDA Undersecretary Ed Avalos during his visit to Glacier County.
Well, why not?
Any chance to show the talking heads in DC what actual farmers do for a living is ok by us – no offense to Mr. Avalos, who we deemed an all around nice guy and enjoyed visiting with.
Here’s a few shots from our visit:
Explaining the process of rendering beeswax.
Showing off our gentle, sweet gals …
… and our even sweeter baby boy, of course … his sister was napping.
Thanks for your interest in Montana agriculture, Undersecretary Avalos!
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
July 25, 2013
We’re in the midst of the honey harvest! And therefore, you’re invited to our 2nd Annual Fill Your Own Bucket Day on Saturday, August 10, 2013, from 8am-5pm. See you at World Headquarters for tours of the honey house, candle making, the bees themselves, and outrageously low prices on honey.
PRICES HAVE BEEN SET FOR the 2nd ANNUAL FILL YOUR OWN BUCKET DAY!
To fill containers under 20 pounds: $2.95/#
To fill containers over 20 pounds: $2.75/#
There is a 60 pound total limit per person. If you are a business who needs wholesale honey, please contact us beforehand to discuss pricing, etc. Fill Your Own Bucket Day is meant for our retail customers, only.
Only cash or checks will be accepted for these Fill Your Own Bucket prices.
If you bring your own (clean) containers, we’ll fill them with honey for you at a wholesale rate – ONE DAY ONLY, NO EXCEPTIONS. Please do not show up the day before or the day after and ask us to honor these prices. We pull all of our employees out of the field and change the setup on our entire extracting process for this one day in order to offer these prices, and that is only feasible for ONE day each summer. Thank you in advance for understanding.
Frequently asked questions about the honey, answered: yes, the honey is 100% natural, pure, and raw. Unfiltered, unheated. The best sweetener for you on earth, and the best tasting to boot. Our bees are tops, y’all, and our locations in pristine Glacier County can’t be beat.
We’ll have all of our retail stock — honey, beeswax, and gifts — available, too. Credit/debit is fine for those purchases, as long as the internet connection holds.
Directions are here. Mapquest/Google are not reliable. Print these before you leave home. Without a booster, you won’t have cell service near World Headquarters.
We hope to see you near Babb!
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
July 18, 2013
When Maggie Rose was born, our days and nights played out in a choppy rhythm to a tune we didn’t know, and couldn’t fall asleep to, as we listened to the notes and tried to make sense of the melody of infancy.
Howard’s arrival into our lives is more like a song remembered, if a few notes missed here and there. I suppose what I mean is that it seems he has always been with us, and already I hardly remember a time without both he and Maggie Rose. Life has simply moved forward in the last four weeks, and swept us all along with it.
We’ve celebrated our favorite holiday, the 4th of July.
We’ve remembered my brother Howard, and joyfully watched Maggie play in the gorgeous memorial structure that our friend Jordan built in his honor.
I got in a little much needed time with a few of the Hot Buns, who arrived from Asheville, Atlanta, and Seattle to hike and play under the brilliant July sun.
We were reacquainted with July-under-the-Big-Sky … a shade of blue singular to this inestimable month.
And most importantly, all of this July-ness has been kind to our honeybees, who have a crop on! So we set up the extracting room and began harvest at 8:22 am on Tuesday, July 16.
Harvest is the hardest kind of work, and by extension the best, too, as fits the norm in superlatives. The days are endless and yet not nearly long enough. Our bones ache with the effort of moving thousands and thousands of pounds of honey from the hive to the truck, from the truck to the warm room, from the warm room to the extracting room, from the extracting room to the barrel, from the barrel to the tractor trailer … to say nothing of the retail honey.
Harvest. A precious four week old baby. July. A two year old starting to speak in sentences. Just after Maggie’s bedtime on Tuesday, Honeydew and I collapsed on the couch and stared in silence at one another, happy to be together, happy to have a crop to harvest, but too tired to say much to one another. After a few minutes, Maggie’s wondering voice drifted in over the monitor:
“Daddy happy. Mama happy. Maggie happy.”
Yes, Maggie Rose. We are happy.
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
Glacier County Honey Co. 