February showers?

The first thunderstorm of spring and we're not even in March yet!

Does that mean April flowers in our futures?

There is something so incredibly cozy about rain. We lived in a farmhouse with a tin roof when I was a little girl, and the percussion of a good storm is still one of the sounds of home to me. It doesn't matter how wild and fearsome the elements may be: I'm safe and warm with slow roasted pork and homemade potato salad, a lap full of cats and this baby's tiny flutterings. Seriously, do people wish for more than this?

Earwigs are Icky

EARWIGS! The plague of the day.

I hate earwigs. I think they’re one rung above ticks on the entomology ladder to hell. Probably due to the rain, the upper box of the hive, empy save the jar of bee food, has become shelter for TON of earwigs. Well, when I pulled off the lid and they scatted, it seemed like a ton. Hard to tell.

I was just stopping by to check on things. All these serious thunderstorms have knocked down a lot of branches at my house, and I wanted to make sure the hive was intact. I didn’t have my smoker or anything needed to open the hive, so I couldn’t see if the earwigs were ingratiating themselves.

My research (google) says earwigs can cause serious problems in wood and plants. I wonder if they are having an epic battle with the inhabitants of the hive or just eating their home out from beneath them? Either way- gross.

Waterlogged

More rain this week- the bees will not recognize me when I can finally get out to the yard again.
Does it seem like the world is a quieter place when it rains?




And greener?


Everything here is quiet and green. I like it.

Dinner time: feast and hunger

It's been so grey and wet outside lately that my mind and palate were craving color and freshness. I'm ready for spring to be here for keeps. So for dinner I roasted corn in the husk and got a box of fresh picked strawberries from the farmer's market. I fried up some fish in garlic and olive oil and then we ate. and ate and ate. The strawberries were so sweet. I had already forgotten how they are supposed to taste, full of the early spring sun and fat spring raindrops. They tasted real. Not at all like the red, fibrous impostors from california I've been snubbing for the last 6 months.

Springtime is for berries.


The corn, even though I'm sure it came from some unknown warmer clime at great expense to the environment, was the perfect antidote for the rain. Roasted in their own husks, each ear had tiny, juicy kernels that tasted smoky and sweet. Like a promise of all the hot, lazy summer evenings on the way.

While I was cooking and eating I felt a little guilty. I can't be totally in the moment when I eat lately because I'm longing for a garden. With the warmer weather and the explosion of green outside, and especially surrounded by the growing fields at the bee-yard, my green thumbs are twitching to dig in the dirt and grow living, edible things to nourish myself and my family. Basil, squash, cucumbers, sunflowers... For now, my family is just myself and Mr. Holt, but when I make meals like this I'm always looking forward to a future family where I'll be wiping strawberry juice off little chins and cutting the corn off the cob for little fingers. I want to grow things, and people. I'm so full and so hungry for more.

Rain rain, go away

It's been very cool, grey and stormy here lately. I guess the bees don't like this kind of weather because all reports indicate they are not doing much of anything over at the bee-yard. I'm not doing much of anything here either. I think all of humanity and bee-ind alike get a pass for rain weeks. We'll both catch up on our work when the clouds clear up.