Hungry Bees

The Dog Days of summer have arrived in force. Happily, the hundred degree (or close) days don't have the same feeling of assault as they did in early June. Maybe because I expect them? Or because it's been such marvelous weather in the 80s for so many weeks?

I have been systematically stripping the Principe Borghese drying tomatoes from their vines, then slicing in half and drying. It takes about 15 minutes to get a tray ready (washing, sorting, slicing, laying out the little tomatoes). With nine trays to fill, I have spent hours getting those tomatoes harvested and stored.

Phil has spent a good amount of time moving animals, watering animals, making sure the animals are cool enough. He has done little things, too: ordering supplies, making calls, mowing the orchard after the sheep go through (to get rid of the most lignified, or woody, stalks), moving the chickens.

My Celadon beehive has worried me a bit: there are dozens of bees lounging near the entrance. It made me wonder if they were preparing to swarm, so I opened the hive today.

There was some brood, so babies are coming. But not as much as I would expect. And there was so little honey! Even one of the combs had been chewed through. The frames, so heavy with food and babes earlier this year, are now light and empty. I looked it up, and apparently, when there is little food available, the bees cannot make frames, cannot make honey, prefer to lounge than to make many pointless flights to collect little pollen (which would result in a net loss of energy for the hive). Poor, hungry bees, eating through their stores.

So now I am feeding two hives again, and hoping that these two hives survive well: the hungry hive and the miracle hive.

And, a final story. Every day now, I ask for the Lord's protection. I thank him for our wonderful van, and ask that he protect it. Driving home from Bible study tonight, we were cruising at about 60mph, car following us, when a deer bounded out of the woods. Phil braked, but not as hard as he could have: the deer was moving fast enough, it could make it in front. But it slowed! And Phil swerved.

No thump, no crunch. Happy silence, pounding hearts. Van intact, deer intact, thanksgiving intact.