Reschedule

The gentleman that was to administer my test today has had cancer. He had a radiation treatment yesterday. He asked me to call this morning before I drove the two hours to his apiary.

When I called just after 8 a.m., his voice sounded weak and weary. He asked if we could reschedule. I said, of course.

He sent me a text this evening, so we're set for Friday afternoon.

I'm torn because I feel as though I'm adding to his load at a time in his life where his load is heavy enough.

I've talked to him several times the past few weeks. He is an avid beekeeper. I think he wants to help as many people on their journey to becoming a responsible steward of honeybees.

I'm signing off now because I need to go study.

The sun came out this even, and this tiger swallowtail boy came to sip on the butterfly bush. Go figure.

Testing, testing

Tomorrow I have to drive to north Alabama to take a test that's part of my journey to becoming a beekeeper. In the last few days, I've read a new book, and reread another on the finer points of the craft.

I'm as ready as I'm ever going to bee so to speak.

Today was a workday, so I didn't get a chance to take a picture, so I found one I took a few years ago on the Fourth of July.

Happy humpday tomorrow.

Sunflowers

Today I had calls to make and stories to write, but Jilda and I decided to do first things first. We shoe'd up and headed out for a walk after coffee.

One of the first things we noticed was that a few of the sunflowers bloomed out overnight. It was overcast so I couldn't frame it against the sky. Plus, this one is at the edge of the watermelon patch and I didn't want to risk stepping on a vine and damaging one of the melons that are almost ripe.

It's been an interesting spring here.

Tiger lily

The tiger lily nestles close to the southeast eve of the house. I thought it got sun only in the afternoon, but I noticed this morning that a shaft of sunlight fell on the lily and not much else around it.

The blossom faces downward as if it's embarrassed by its beauty. I had to tinker with the exposure on my camera to keep the stark light from overpowering the color.

It was a beautiful thing to behold for a few moments. When the position of the sun changed a few degrees, the lily went back into shadow.

Can't wait

While the coffee dripped in the carafe this morning I stepped down to the garden to check on things.

Everything is showing out, except for the sunflowers. The picture below, I took a few years ago on the 4th of July but so far, this year's crop has not bloomed yet. Jilda says have patience. I shall try, but I love sunflowers and so do the bees.

I hope you all have had a great day.

Slow down

When our elderly neighbor across the road began having health issues a few years ago, I started keeping a closer check on him. His only daughter was an attorney and lived out west. When I would see a change in him, I would send her a text or give her a call. It was the neighborly thing to do. She was grateful.

When he died, I helped place his dog in a forever home, and kept an eye on his place until she could figure out a path forward. His grass grew as fast as mine, so each time I mowed the lawn, I'd cut his. That way, the place didn't look abandoned. Looking abandoned in rural areas is an open invitation for ne'er do wells.

The last time she came home, she gave me some of the things that her dad loved. There were some tools, a few books, and the swing that sat in front of his house.

After hauling the swing home, I placed it on the edge of the yard in the shade of a sweet gum tree.
Jilda and I soon learned that the sound of a squeaking chain is intoxicating on warm summer evenings.

Since the coronavirus hit, we've spent more time at home and we've paid more attention to our place. One evening while swinging, Jilda said, I think this swing would be better if it was sitting over there. She pointed to the opposite edge of the yard.

I never question her taste in the positioning of yard-thangs, so we stood and wagged it squeaking to the new location. A moment later, when we sat down, I knew she was right because it was positioned to watch the setting sun.

A few days later, the Mandevilla we'd bought was on one end of the swing with its tentacles winding up the swing poles. One the other side was a raised bed of cucumbers.

Since then, the plants seem to be in a race to see which one can form a canopy over our heads.

In the future, when looking back at the year 2020, there will be plenty of ways to curse it, but there will be other things that would not have happened had we not slowed down.

All in a day's work

I spent most of the day writing stories for the paper. After coffee and a short walk, I was on the screen porch under a whispering ceiling fan tapping keys. After several hours, I was brain-fried.

After lunch, I headed down to the honey house and put new wooden handles on our cultivator. Jilda's dad gave us this tool over 40 years ago.

This spring, when I pulled it out to lay off some rows for the sunflowers in our garden, one of the handles broke. OH NO!  I thought to myself that there is no way I could find replacement handles for a tool that most people consider obsolete.

When I went inside to break the news to Jilda, she said, "No worries, Lehman's has those."

I thought she was kidding, but she whipped out her phone, went to the Lehman's website and searched for cultivator handles and there they were.

A few days later, UPS brought the new handles and left them on the screen porch. When I got home and saw the box from Lehman's, it made me smile.

I got the handles replaced, but it was too hot outside to give it a test drive. I'll do that tomorrow.

My next project is to get the cement mold out and pour some new Peace stepping stones. I think I could use some more peace these days.