Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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New Baby, New Bees

This past weekend was busy at the farm. Lots of planting, lots of tidying up of the  already flourishing edible gardens, lots of photo taking and chicken chasing. But two very exciting things happened that are totally news worthy.

Seraphine had her baby.

cria day three
This little guy was born mid-morning on Friday, May 30th. He is already running like the wind and nursing like a champ, and he is never short of kisses for Handsome and me. No name yet. But we’re definitely in love. xoxo

And I brought home two new hives of honeybees.

We had heavy rain at the farm all night and into the morning, sending the bees deep inside their boxes. I had a small panic attack thinking they had absconded on day three of living here. They're okay! Just staying warm and dry until the skies clear. If you look closely in the entrances you can see them churning about. Beautiful.
We had heavy rain at the farm all last night and into this morning, sending the bees deep inside their boxes. I had a small panic attack thinking they had absconded on day three of living here. They’re okay! Just staying warm and dry until the skies clear. If you look closely in the entrances you can see them churning about. Beautiful.

 

On Saturday evening Maribeth drove me to Noble, Oklahoma, where Brian and Marcy Royal run a wonderful little bee business from their home. We admired their peach trees (how could they not be well pollinated?), wished Brian well on their soon-to-be-born fourth baby, and put the two NUCs I had ordered into the back of Maribeth’s minivan, the one with the magic rear hatch. (When she’s not looking I play with it endlessly. You can close it without touching it, just using your mind powers.) We made a quick stop at her house for supplies I needed which of course she had, then drove the bees easily and without incident back to the Lazy W.

Once the two waxy cardboard boxes were settled onto their tabletop spots in my vegetable garden, we stood around in the purplish dusk eating sugar snap peas straight off the vine and accepting fuzzy kisses from the new cria (baby llama). I wondered that night, as I do so often, whether Maribeth knows how important a role she plays in our hobby farming adventures. I hope she does.

On Saturday night I went to bed a very happy beekeeper (but a very sad Thunder fan, because on that same evening my team lost their shot at the playoffs). My dreams ran thick with golden honey.

Early Sunday morning Handsome nudged me from sleep saying, “Hey are you gonna go feed your bees?” I sprang out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning, donned my pink bee suit, and ran outside. Past the hungry cats, past the fattening eggplants and cantaloupes.I ran straight to the bees and fed one of the hives all the sugar-water I could offer them, which wasn’t much. We’ve been trying to eat less refined stuff here and so I just don’t keep sugar in the pantry anymore. Also, I wasn’t planning to feed the bees so early in the season but am happy that Maribeth urged me otherwise. Maybe keeping them overfed and happy will be a good buffer against the odds. Two years ago, remember, I just kind of crossed my fingers and walked away, until winter.

After church and a family lunch, we stopped for groceries. I bought five million pounds of granulated sugar. Home again, I mixed up some thick, yummy syrup and returned to the vegetable garden. It was easy to gently brush the bees away from the feeding holes to position the inverted buckets. The sweet stuff was dripping softly, and my heart was content. I looked around and knew that everything growing nearby would not only feed these amazing creatures; the bees would also pollinate these plants and help them thrive. In one lopsided rectangle of earth, symbiosis and poetry were reigning.

I thought of my Papa Nieberding.

Excerpt from my great-grandfather's apiary journal, these pages dated May 1980. I was in Kindergarten, and Oklahoma was in full bloom just like we are now, 34 years later.
Excerpt from my great-grandfather’s apiary journal, these pages dated May 1980. I was in Kindergarten, and Oklahoma was in full bloom just like we are now, 34 years later.

May 2- This was truly a lovely day. The temperature was in the high 70s- and the bees were carrying nectar in loads- Tonite there was an odor of ripening honey. I haven’t any idea what the source.
May 3- The willows are blooming and should bolster the brood rearing.

Well, it’s mid-morning now and I have a long list of wonderful stuff to get done here. I wish you well, friends, however you are spending your Monday. I wish you good, nourishing food. Memories that heal. Friends who help. I wish you goals worth pursuing and love that catches you well at the end of the day.

“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return.” ~Starra Neely Blade
XOXOXOXO

Get Stung with Me

   This is honey bee weather, you guys. The days are warm. The breezes are mild. And everything seems to be in bloom. Every single day these past couple of weeks we find our fuzzy little winged princesses foraging in the box woods and fruit trees, and as of yesterday they have even discovered purple clover. Do you know how exciting it is that we have so many bees alive and thriving after last autumn’s wax moth decimation? Well it’s very exciting. That’s what it is.

   I have several hive-related tasks to compete this month and might even be adding more bees, and I am so excited to tell you about all of it. But for now, an invitation…

I also have some deliciously good news about this pretty girl…

   This weekend is the statewide spring conference for the Oklahoma Beekeepers’ Association. Honey lovers from all across our great state will gather to discuss best practices and lessons learned, the weather, and some changes in cottage law legislation no doubt. We will also get to hear guest speaker Reyah Carlson, an experienced apitherapist. Check out her blog right here. She is the featured speaker and will be giving talks about, in her own words:

“the health benefits from all honeybee produced substances.. raw honey, pollen, royal jelly, propolis and venom from the sting. I will also be demonstrating sting technique and application.”

   Did you catch that last part? She will be stinging people. With bees. On purpose. I am planning to volunteer, because I don’t know when to say no. Family legend has it that my great-grandpa Papa Joe Neiberding, who was a locally famous beekeeper, stung himself deliberately as a cure for his arthritis.

   I kid you not. I am Arthur-free but still looking forward to being reminded of how a bee sting feels.

   So even if you have little interest in raising bees yourself (although you should consider it), please come to the Cleveland County Fairgrounds tomorrow morning and watch me get stung. I don’t mind if you laugh when I cry, so long as you bring me a cookie or chocolate covered almond or something as a comfort.

  Okay, gotta go. Handsome is on his way home and we have two wonderful friends coming over for dinner tonight. I hope you have fun plans for this gorgeous March weekend! Thank you so much for stopping in at the digital W.


“When you shoot an arrow of truth, 
dip its point in honey.”
~Arab Proverb
xoxoxoxo

Hive Relocation Day

   Yesterday was an important day around here, certainly one for the hobby farmer’s history books. Maribeth visited  and helped me relocate our two bee hives from their temporary waxy box homes to their permanent wooden-ware mansions. Perhaps you remember the painting day we had just before bringing the bees home? Well, now all of that artwork and passion is being enjoyed by our 79,987 buzzing, winged children.


   In addition to moving the bees, we also collected several gorgeous chunks of honey comb and about 20 ounces of fresh, raw honey. Our very first harvest of the molten treasure was a surprise to me, as was seeing how much honey was still on the combs when we closed the hives and walked uphill. Just weeks after bring bees to the Lazy W, we have our own honey. Gobs and gobs of the thick, oozing beautiful stuff.


   Everything went so well. The hives are abundantly healthy and have multiplied much more than I expected. The interior frames are all loaded with honey comb, capped brood and capped honey. The bees were active but gentle. Incredibly gentle. At one point I was holding a frame, gazing at the many different cells and relishing a sudden forest breeze, when I felt a heavy vibration on my right hand. At least twenty bees were clustered across my gloved knuckles, buzzing and flittering without malice. Throughout our afternoon in the bee yard, Maribeth’s arms and veil were often dotted by a dozen or more bees, and they all swam loosely and peacefully in the air around us. I never one time felt threatened.

As always, Mia kept his loving vigil. He never crossed the threshold into the bee yard,
but he honked affectionately and watched us the whole time we worked.
Smoking the bees a little calms them down, and it calms me down too.
The fragrance is not terribly unlike burning sage,
a Native American practice used in all kinds of prayerful rituals.
Can you see how glossy and vibrant the honey is? And how calm the bees are?
And how much I look like a Pink Power Ranger?
Here I am using a plain spoon from the kitchen to scrape the raw honey.
Later I licked it clean and almost cried form the deliciousness.
Maribeth is using a “hive tool” to scrape that thick, luscious raw honey off of the frame.
You can see its straight path there in the gold.
Honey bees possess incredibly accurate internal “GPS” systems,
allowing them to distinguish between two hive locations only inches apart.
Bonus points if you can find the Lazy W animal portrait hidden here! 
I now know that a quart of raw honey weighs about three pounds. 
This little guy was nobody’s enemy.
He only circled our sticky tools and gloves and meandered through some clover patches.
But Maribeth did endure one sting yesterday and taught me that
rubbing a speck of honey on the site will kill the pain and reduce swelling.
   Big thanks to Maribeth for her guidance and help. If any of you lovely people should ever venture to keep bees, I hope you find a mentor like her. She makes it feel as natural and magical and unintimidating as it should, and I believe the bees are benefiting from this mood. Also big thanks to Handsome for photographing our second trip to the bee yard yesterday. I will treasure these photos.
Work Hard & Be Sweet to Each Other  
xoxoxo

Bee Adoption Day

   So, if you are kind enough to be following along, you probably know that last night I drove to Noble, Oklahoma, to collect my bees. Just out of curiosity, what image does that conjure up for you? I’d love to know.  This whole experience has been replete with learning, so plenty of what I have expected along the way has been wrong.

   Fortunately, I was able to make the drive with my mentor in tow, which soothed my jangled nerves considerably. Maribeth and I enjoyed a leisurely drive brimming with more of that sparkling conversation. Have I said lately how lush and healthy Oklahoma is right now?

   The apiary is not too far off of the interstate but at the end of a long, green tunnel of a road, surrounded by horse farms. Once we found the driveway, it was unmistakable.

Royal Bee Supply, Oklahoma

   What a humble, happy entrance. And the owners/operators, Marcy and Brian, are just as warm and friendly as you might imagine honey lovers to be!

   Did you know that bees crawl at night instead of fly? And that they return to the hive every night, after a day of collecting? We arrived at dusk purposefully so that the boxes we purchased would be as full of bees as possible.
   I’m sorry these photos are a bit fuzzy. My gloved hands were not cooperating so well with the tiny camera buttons. Anyway, here you can see a lidded cardboard box with a river of bees on the side. This is rush hour traffic on the crosstown, taking bees home after a long day at the office.
   The atmosphere last night was slightly different than what I sensed at the bee yard last month. I heard the bees, certainly, and I saw plenty of them; but the mood was a smidge more intense than during those previous morning hours. Perhaps that is the most important difference, that we were visiting at dusk when workers were returning home instead of during the time when so many would have been absent. 
   Also, these hives are all in transition, perhaps not perfectly acclimated to their surroundings. I never felt afraid, just more alert than before. I kept close track of every bee that landed on my veil.
   Oh, and I wore better jeans this time. Here you can see the cuffs duct taped to my rubber boots. Scraps of the yellow badge of honor are still on my boots this morning, and I plan to leave them there.
      This is one of my two NUCs being loaded into the truck bed. Do you remember the first time you drove your newborn baby around in a car seat? Dilute that feeling just a little bit and add to it the fear of getting pulled over by the highway patrol car and then witnessing the officer’s subsequent violent stinging, and you can sort of imagine how I felt driving home.
   None of that actually happened. It just crossed my mind. About seven times.
   On the way back toward Oklahoma City, where we would deliver Maribeth’s full hive, we stopped for an ice cream refreshment at Braum’s. This was a life event worth marking with a really special memory, you guys. Ice cream was most definitely in order. We went inside wearing our full bee suits. Much to my eternal disappointment, not one person asked us about our amazing costumes.
   
   We finally made it back to the Lazy W around 11:00 p.m., and Handsome met us at the little bee yard he had built for me. At a safe distance but wearing only flip flops, shorts, and a tank top, he took a few photos of Maribeth and me placing the NUCs. That inky blackness behind us is the infamous Pine Forest which definitely houses a large deer family and may or may not be populated by Sasquatch. 
   I could barely settle down at bedtime. It felt like Christmas Eve, the last day of school, and my birthday rolled into one, since I knew that in the morning my 80,000 new fuzzy babies could be out exploring our farm. 
********************
   Somehow, though, I did manage to sleep. Then at dawn my eyes popped wide open, long before the alarm sounded or the roosters crowed.
   
   I ran to the upstairs west window to see if the NUCs were okay, although from that distance all I could see was that they were still where we left them. Handsome, still in bed, asked wearily, “Are they swarming the windows yet? Hey, do you know how to do a trach on yourself if you get stung? We should have had you tested for bee allergies before doing this.” 
   “Umm, no, they’re not swarming babe. Yes, I know how to do a trach if needed and I can put a bandage over it too, but don’t worry, I don’t think I am allergic. Everything is fine.”
   I have a really good husband. And my reply was at least 65% true. Actually I have no clue in the world how to do a safe tracheotomy on myself or any other living creature. But we do have a lot of Benadryl.
********************
   This morning has been cool and mild. Almost no breeze again, very similar in feeling to that day we visited Cripple Creek Farms. As soon as I could, I ran outside in yoga pants, a pajama top, and flip flops to see what was happening. The grass was so dewy that in just a few steps my legs were splashed and flecked with mud. My arms were gloved in goosebumps, but I wasn’t sure if that was from the cool air or more nervous excitement.

   
     Chunk-Hi was breathing steam as he grunted and patrolled the sunrise.
The moon was still lingering like a gypsy earring over the back field.
   Good morning Daphne! Look at that sleepy little ankle… Almost done shedding, she looks like she’s wrapped in black and chocolate satin. When I first walked down to inspect the bee yard this morning, she had been watching it too, as had a tiny wild rabbit, three Canadian geese visiting from a nearby pond, and most of our chickens. Handsome and I remarked on how the animals all notice promptly when something new arrives at the farm. It’s pretty fun to watch our little society react to subtle changes.
All is well.
   Around 6:45 a.m. the bees were just beginning to peek out of those small entrances, probably explaining why the chickens and guineas suddenly found other things to do. I have spent my morning so far doing one little chore at a time, layering each one between additional trips downhill to see the bee yard.
   Today promises to be full of equal parts work and beauty. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by all of this, to be so steeped in nature and miracles.
   Thanks for following our little bee adventure! I will keep you posted.
Life is Just Too Sweet
xoxoxo

American Honey

   A few Saturdays ago I was fortunate enough to spend most of the day with Handsome’s colleague at the Commish, our good friend, and my new honey mentor… Maribeth. She’s a three-in-one fantastic person to know, and then some! Maribeth had invited me to visit Cripple Creek Farms with her for a beekeepers’ social gathering and hive diagnosis demonstration.

   Cripple Creek is a privately owned farm near Guthrie, Oklahoma, where the proprietors Randy and Treasa Brady raise bees, goats, and chickens and grow peaches, vegetables, herbs, and more. They hosted us and a few dozen other bee keepers for coffee and donuts, tours, discussion, and then a wonderful outdoor lunch.They are just as lovely and hospitable as you can imagine, and I hope to return for an agri-tourism event soon! If you shop the Saturday morning farmer’s market in Edmond, look for their products.

Thank you for your hospitality, Randy & Treasa!
Their verdant row of peach trees already in fruit 
made the chlorophyll in my veins hum.
(Keep in mind this was almost a month ago.)
By the way, how cool is it that growing foods and flowers 
and keeping bees are so simpatico? So symbiotic? So poetic?
This links my paternal heritage of apiaries 
and my maternal heritage of gardens,
and I just love that.
Goat kids are so cute. In other people’s yards.
These babies are bottle fed and certified organic and disease free,
and they will eventually be faithful dairy producers.
   It was a thoroughly beautiful day in every respect. In fact, I learned so much and was so inspired by the experience that I have had trouble deciding how to tell the story. Should I try to tackle the science, or should I instead try to impart to you the magic? That’s the struggle I felt the whole time we were at Cripple Creek, too. Should I obey the desire to learn, restricting my imagination and focusing stringently on the education available? Or is this experience meant to fill my heart, fueling me for the pen-and-paper classes soon to come? Should I just surrender to the romance of a thriving bee yard?

   I chose the magic and romance, big surprise.

   Oh, and by the way, that day was also supposed to be the next official bee class at OSU, but I had the instructor’s blessing to skip class and attend this instead. You guys, the last time I skipped class it was because I hadn’t studied for something and I was looking over my shoulder the whole time!

   Before we continue, perhaps I should insert here that I made the odd mistake of wearing intentionally frayed and holey jeans to the bee yard. The reason was less for fashion and more because I knew not to wear perfume or fragranced soap, so I just took it a step further and wore the same clothes I wore that Friday. Anyway, that was a mistake. 

   My neighbors on the hay trailer were kind enough to notice, and Maribeth helped me seal up the many points of bee entry with her trusty duct tape.

“Duct tape is a beekeeper’s best friend.” ~Maribeth


********************

    The sky was cloudless. It glowed with that deep, bright color of old denim. The sun poured like warm butter all over my skin, all over the trees and all over every free range chicken and every blade of green grass. If there was any breeze that day, it was mild. Nearly undetectable.

She grew up on the side of the road

Where the church bells ring
and strong love grows
She grew up good, she grew up slow
like American honey

   Once we all suited up and enjoyed a slow hay-and-trailer ride down to the bee yard, a couple of football fields away, we walked around cautiously.

   Following our host I noticed a gradual increase in bee activity. The buzzing was a whisper at first, then it grew louder and more urgent, almost loud enough to sound amplified, like on a microphone.

   But it was lulling, not terrifying at all. The communal hum was downright soothing. I wanted to lay in the grass and clover with the sun on my skin and sleep there or maybe read.

   Do you know what’s amazing? The complexity of a bee colony. And the gentle industry.

Steady as a preacher, free as a weed
Couldn’t wait to get going
But wasn’t quite ready to leave
So innocent, pure and sweet
like American honey

Here, Randy was describing the usurping of a Russian queen bee
by an Italian one and the changing health of the remaining colony.
It’s very thought provoking.
Because of my reading material this spring,
the political implications were on the tip of my tongue.

   The long, complicated, delicate process of honey production is possibly nearer to enchantment than even a seed breaking dormancy in the spring. Nature’s honey recipe is so uniquely beautiful and so filled with intricacy that the fact that we can not only impose ourselves into that process but also participate in it and even enhance it, well… I have no problem calling that a miracle. What a gift that God would allow us to be involved in this!

Get caught in the race of this crazy life
Trying to be everything can make you lose your mind
I just wanna go back in time to American honey
There’s a wild, wild whisper blowing in the wind…
Calling out my name like a long lost friend.
Oh how I miss those days as those years go by
Oh nothing’s sweeter than summertime
And American honey. 

Are you entranced by natural honeycomb?
Its shape, colors, texture, even its pale fragrance…
Mesmerizing.
   Maribeth and her husband Dean joined us last weekend for dinner and hours of sparkling conversation. That evening we scouted around the Lazy W and chose the perfect hive location. Handsome and I have a few more preparations to make, then tomorrow evening I drive to Noble, Oklahoma, to retrieve my two colonies. 

   And then the real adventure begins. 
“Hope is the only bee that makes honey without flowers.”
~Robert Green Ingersall
xoxoxoxo
Tune in tomorrow for a little story about the hive painting…