I still have that stiff-neck thing. It’s been going on for over a week. I’m almost positive it’s because I haven’t been riding my bicycle, but who has time for that?! Right now, I have time only for bees.
Bees are everywhere. I have bees in yards all over town. I am elated with them. When I expanded my apiary from 2 hives to 15 (well, to 18 if you include hives I don’t own but am overseeing as if my own), I never expected to increase knowledge exponentially as well. I am on fire with learning.
I seldom think much about honey. I think more about what the bees are doing and how I can manage build up. Which, of course, will eventually lead to honey. But that’s not my point this year. My point is to…well, you don’t really need to know my point, do you, Reader? I have one. Or two. But it may bore you to hear me explain it.
This last weekend I visited beeyards (and their bee stewards) on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I lost track of time. I was late for dinner. Deb was a bit perturbed…”very” may be a better word. I don’t know how to defend myself when it comes to her frustration. Yes, I was late. Yes, I sort of thought about calling, but I didn’t do it. No, I don’t know why. Yes, if she’d been that late without calling, I’d have been pissed, too. But while I’m in the middle of the bees with those people, none of that really comes to the forefront of my consciousness. It’s that time of year when time gets away from me because of the bees. In the winter, I sulk around here waiting for action. I am a dullard. In the spring and summer, I am on the go go go go go as if on amphetamines.
Top-bar hive (from reclaimed material)
Not Alice 
