The Bees Knees

Stella called the other night "Hey, you want to get into something?"

"Um, maybe." (I'm not quite as good a friend ;-)

"There's a bee swarm just up the road."

"Oh, okay. Call over there in the morning and see if it's still there. If it is, I'll see if we have enough parts to put together another hive."

8:00 a.m. the next day, "It's still there."

"Okay, I'll pick you up in a few minutes."

I feel sort of like the ghost busters movie when we get these calls. This is the third swarm we've heard about this year and I'm getting pretty good at throwing my equipment together. This swarm was about a mile and a half away and just six feet up in an easily accessible tree. A gift.



We decided to try the white sheet method and see if we could talk the bees into just walking right in. We set the hive box a few feet away from the tree, draped a white sheet from the tree to the front of the hive and then I scooped up a cupful of bees and dumped them into the the top. I took another scoop and dumped them in the front. A few headed in the opening!

That went so well I scooped up some more bees, dumped them on the sheet and next thing you know, they were all marching in. Textbook style. A couple ratchet straps to hold it together and some paper to block the entrance/exit and down the road we all went.





Amazing, eh?



(We switched bottom boards when we got home - that's the old one leaning in front to give the stragglers a ramp back in.)

We put this hive up at Stella's, behind her cute little red yard barn that her grandson Jason built last year. She's read some of my favorite bee books (A Book of Bees, A Country Year, The Secret Life of Bees) and is looking forward to cooking (sugar syrup) for thousands of new hungry mouths.

The Wheels Are Turning

My friend Susan (who gave me the awesome studio bench/table) starts every bike ride by stepping on her elevated left bike pedal and as the bike takes off, swings into the seat. I have tried to do this - it's quite a cool looking trick - but "natural athlete" has never followed my name. I've got to do it now though because I'm going to need every trick in the book to catch up with the Tour de Fleece.



There was some actual spinning today. In the new studio. And I didn't crumble into a pile of dust as I feared I might.

My TDF challenge is to spin 1 1/2 pounds of the long waiting Punkin fleece. Technically 1 1/2 pounds worsted weight yarn. However, at this point I'm just happy to actually be spinning anything (because there have been a couple days that I wasn't sure we hadn't built the new studio for naught) and I've decided this one is going to be just between me and Punkin.



Rather than be all technical and measured, I'm going to just relax and spin my comfort yarn - more of a heavy worsted weight with some thick and thin spots for interest - and enjoy hanging out with Punkin again for a little while. This is the last of his wool and I know he'd much rather I had some fun with it. Not that spinning accurately isn't fun, but you know what I mean.



I was playing around with taking some motion blurred pictures. It's probably just me, but this last picture makes me nervous - like it's full of tension or conflict - I guess the fast moving bobbin vs. the stationary maiden.

Is it just me?

Friends And Flowers

I should tell you what the bees are up to and where those flowers were found and how much I have enjoyed our day lilies this year, but I have nothing to say. I am wordless. I am so tired - physically, mentally, emotionally.

I appreciate everyone's thoughts and prayers and hugs. I especially liked the idea of everyone giving their sheep (and cats and dogs and horses and chickens and family and friends...) an extra hug in honor of Lorna Doone-Buggy and everyone she touched.

Let's go do that. Every day.

And take a kleenex.

Even though none of them really care if you get snot on 'em.

An Unwelcome Visitor

Lorna Doone-Buggy is gone. I am a complete failure as a shepherd. I knew better. Remember the night I slept in the barn because I didn't want to leave the flock in the unsecured front field while the paint dried on the fences? That's the same field I had the doodle bug living in. With an old, crippled ewe to protect her (not that I was apparently even thinking about that).

She was the toughest, sweetest, happiest, most loving (even when I had to give her horrible shots that made her fall on the ground they hurt so bad) lamb and was such a joy to be around. She and I played in the barn aisleway last night - she was just starting to feel good enough to jump and run. I completely let her down. Any idiot could have kept her safe.

I am so sorry.

I am assuming it was a coyote, but can't say for sure. We've had some neighbor dog issues, but usually dogs take down an entire group and don't eat what they kill. Ewenice doesn't have a mark on her.

Watch Out Aqua!

"Look - coming through the field!"



Uh oh - the barn skunk. While I'm fairly used to seeing him/her, this is Saint Tim's first sighting. He was mildly alarmed until I told him this was the time of night he/she was always out. So far, so good - we stay out of each others way...



Oh NO - watch out Handy!

While the lens I was using (in the fading light) really compresses everything front to back, it does not affect the side to side. The barn skunk is really that close.

The aqua reference is one of Saint Tim's favorite sayings. Any time I'm getting ready to do something stupid or dangerous, I get a "watch out Aqua." Does anyone recognize this?