Setting Out A Swarm Trap

It was a beautiful spring day today with sunshine and temperatures hitting 71 degrees.  It seemed like a perfect time for honeybees to start swarming, and I didn't want to miss it.  I figured that I would get a swarm trap out.  If one of our hives swarm, I want to catch them before they leave the property.  If I catch a wild swarm, all the better.

I'll show you how we do it.  We've caught three of our four hives in this same location.  It's a "honey hole," one might say.  The first thing you need is some old frames with some drawn out comb on it.  These are some frames from the hive that we lost to wax moths.  I had cleaned them up and now they are ready to use again.

I set a bottom board atop a ladder and stack a deep box on top of it.  That's it.  You can build a special swarm trap, but I've had success just using a regular box with a few frames of drawn comb inside.  The ease comes about when you catch a swarm.  At that point all you have to do is set the box on top of some cinder blocks and you're done.

The next thing you need is an attractant.  You can use a product called Swarm Commander, but we simply us some Lemongrass Oil.  It mimics the pheremone that the queen puts out.

I'll put a couple of drops of lemongrass oil on a cotton ball.

And I'll drop it in the very back of the bee box with the frames in it.

Then I put the cover on and use a ratchet strap to secure the swarm trap to the ladder.  I don't want any winds to knock it down.

And now, we wait.  Hopefully, scout bees will search and find the box and, like an open house at a realtor's showing, the bees will tour around and decide that this would be a good "fixer upper" and move in.  We're hoping that's the case, and that they'll hang a "Home Sweet Home" sign out front.  We'll keep you posted with our progress in catching a swarm.

My Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman

Many years ago, Tricia and I and the kids would watch "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" on TV.  It starred Jane Seymour playing Dr. Michaela Quinn, a doctor who left Boston seeking adventure in the West and settled in Colorado Springs.  It was an entertaining family-oriented show.  The other night, my wife got the opportunity to be a medicine woman for real.

What do I mean by that?  Well, since the beginning of January, the Bayou Beekeepers Club has been having Beekeeping Classes each Tuesday night.  We meet at a local Church of Christ for an hour and a half and go through a number of presentations, slide shows, equipment demonstrations and, oh yeah, snacks (King Cake, boudin and coffee).

Tricia does apitherapy.  She uses bee venom to treat various ailments.  The president of the club asked her to bring some bees and teach part of the class.  Here's my "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" explaining how it's done.

Tricia had hand-outs and explained the science behind it and discussed the safety involved.  She keeps an epi-pen and liquid Benadryl in the event of a reaction.  It does happen and it can be fatal.  Tricia showed the process, from catching the honeybees with her little bee vacuum, to spraying them with water to calm them and keep them from flying, to grabbing them with reverse-action tweezers.

She had caught a number of bees from home and brought them with her.  She opened the floor to have anyone interested come up and be stung.  She had many takers.  First, was a club member who has arthritis in his hand.  Dr. Quinn stung him with her bees.

Next was someone who has carpal tunnel syndrome.  Tricia stung him.  There is a diagram showing where to sting for various ailments.

She grabs a bee from her box with reverse-action tweezers and places the bee on the skin.  When in place, you tap the bee's rear end and the honeybee administers a sting.  The bee pulls out and the stinger remains in your skin, pumping venom into your body.  You leave the stinger in for 10 minutes or so before removing to ensure you get a full injection of bee venom.  The bee will eventually die as they can only sting one time and the act of stinging pulls their body apart.

Finally, another beekeeper with shoulder problems wanted to be stung.  Dr. Quinn and her bees administered a dose of bee venom to the affected shoulder of the young man.

Everyone was very interested, even those who didn't line up to be stung.  Tricia is a big proponent of bee venom therapy and stings herself 10 times, every other day.  She's been after me to start on a bee sting regimen for my rotator cuff problem that six weeks of physical therapy didn't heal.  I guess I'll have to make an "appointment" with my apitherapist.  

60 Years!

Last night we met at my sister and brother-in-law's house in Kinder for a celebration of Mom & Dad's 60th Wedding Anniversary!  What a soiree!  Most everyone was able to attend and we enjoyed good food, cake & punch and sparklers.  More than that, though, we sat around and told stories and laughed and recounted many good memories.

Toasts were made and everyone went around the table, thanking Mom & Dad for giving us a good Godly example of how marriage should be.  

Prior to eating we stood in a circle, and my brother-in-law read Scripture and we prayed for the food and our health and for strength in our family.

Jenny, Landry, Conner, Dad, Mom, Brooks

We had brisket on pocket bread with cowboy beans, potato salad, macaroni salad, green beans...

Russ, Kristian, Hayes, Jessie, Graham

Jenny made a coconut cake and brewed some coffee...

Tricia, Benjamin, Carson, Brett

It was a joyous celebration from the oldest to the youngest in attendance.

Elle and Mary Grace

Happy, Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad!  We love you.

Cold For the Cows

More cold weather came this week.  This time not in the single digits and no snow.  It was in the mid-20's for two days in a row, so we had ice.  The sun was out, and that was a plus, but both days it stayed below freezing for 12 hours in a row.  That means that there is no water for the cows, goats, and chickens.  All the water troughs are frozen over.  I know in the north they have heaters to keep them from freezing, but that makes no sense down here.  You can see how I have the pipes wrapped to hopefully avoid pipe breakage.  We will see if we were successful when we turn the water back on.

I have a pipe that I walk around to all the troughs and break the ice.  There are some tasks like popping the little air bubbles in packing wrap that no matter how old you get, it brings great joy to do.  Breaking ice is another one of those tasks.  For some reason it is cathartic.

See here's a big trough.  We had a game growing up called "Break the Ice."  You had hammers and you would try to knock out cubes taking turns with your opponent, without making the ice cubes fall.  Maybe that's what I'm thinking of that makes it so tempting to break.

The first hit breaks through...

And then it all shatters, allowing all the animals to drink water again.

For a special treat, we bring some root crops for the cows to eat.  Sometimes beets, sometimes turnips, but today Tricia had cut up some of our sweet potatoes that had bad spots.  Cows love them some sweet potatoes.

Here is LuLu begging for some sweet potatoes.  Cows have this super cool trick they do where they can stick their tongues in their nostrils.  Try it to see if you are that talented.  My tongue is not nearly long enough.

LuLu gobbled up many sweet potato chunks.  The other animals didn't get any.  Since LuLu is in milk, she gets special favors.

Now that the ice is broken and LuLu has eaten her fill of sweet potatoes, Mrs. Tricia and I will go inside and sit by the fire to warm up.

It Costs A Lot To Die

 “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms...”

― Henry David Thoreau

Have you given any thought to dying?  From a spiritual standpoint, it is of paramount importance.  We will all spend eternity somewhere.  You want to nail down the fact that you will be spending eternity in the presence of God in Heaven.  There's only one way to get there and that's through faith in God's Son, Jesus Christ, believing that He's the Messiah and trusting in His finished work on the cross for your salvation.

Once you have that settled, there are some additional, unsavory things about death from a practical and financial standpoint that one must consider.  When I had heart surgery in August of last year, I sat down and wrote out my obituary.  What a project.  If things were to go south in the surgery, I wanted to save Tricia the time and trouble of writing that out.  She didn't end up needing it, but one day she will, and it's done.  But there are other things to consider.

The will is all done and filed away with other important documents.  The next thing to do is to think about the songs you want at your funeral, the pallbearers, singers, and other details of the service.  I haven't completed this yet, but it's next on my list.  Once done, I can put all that in a file and let Tricia know where to find it.  All it would take is a few minutes to read and make any necessary updates.

It seems like the only thing the USPS delivers to the mailbox anymore is junk mail.  Some days we don't get any mail.  However, I walked out to the mailbox the other day and there was a letter from a local funeral home offering a free consultation and funeral planning discussion.  That seemed like the logical next step in getting the planning squared away regarding "kicking the bucket."

I arrived at the funeral home and a professionally dressed woman led me to a well-appointed room.  We sat behind a large wood desk, and she passed the following folder across to me.

She went over a whole lot of information, regarding my wishes.  What I learned is this: "Dying is a doggone expensive proposition!"  Look at some of the costs below:

$7,360 for just the service.  We put a placeholder in for the casket as an average price of $4,000.  I did not bring up with her the thought I had of making my own.  That would be an interesting woodworking project, but where would you store it?  Could it double as a coffee table?  What a conversation starter!  The casket cost does not include the cement vault.  The total goods and services comes to $13,055.  But wait... there's more.  This doesn't include the real estate that your remains will be deposited on.  Local plots run between $500 and $800.

But where to be laid to rest?  We do have a family cemetery in Oberlin by the farm.  I always told my wife and kids that I wanted to be laid to rest beneath the old elm tree in the back yard.  They always respond, "Dad, we don't have an elm tree."  Louisiana law requires that one must be buried in an established cemetery, so I guess that removes my composting in the back from consideration.

Thinking about death is very important from both a spiritual and financial standpoint, and it makes a lot of sense to plan.  I'll continue to fine tune the plans, but thinking about dying reminds me that it is important to think about living, too.  We don't know how much time is still in our hour glass.  I want to make sure that I make every day count.

Investing in the Future

I've heard that egg prices at the grocery store are pretty high due to this bird flu thing.  Our birds are healthy, the days are getting longer, and today they laid 17 eggs.  We eat all we can, give some to the boys and sell the rest.  But, since the minks decimated the flock last year, we haven't really recovered.  We were down to 9 hens.  That's the lowest amount we ever had, I believe, since we started.  Fortunately, we had another batch of hens in the chicken tractor in our yard when the mink started their killing spree.  The ones in the yard were spared.  I think I counted 24 hens this afternoon.

I figure it is time to increase the numbers of the flock.  I searched the hatcheries online from whence we normally order day old chicks.  Holy Moly!  Straight run (probably 50-50 hen/rooster ratio) are $4 per chick, and all female chicks are $4.65 per chick.  That's steep.  We opted to save 42 eggs from our flock.  This means we forego eating them and forego selling them, but delayed gratification is where it's at.  After about 4 days, I had enough saved to fill the incubator.

42 eggs in all will fit in the incubator.  It will be a mixed bag, for sure.  We have Rhode Island Reds, Golden Comets, Aracaunas, and Barred Rock birds.  They are all mixed up, though.  No telling what we'll get.  Last time we hatched some out, we got a 74% hatch rate and about 50% were roosters.  The roosters are butchered and made into chicken and sausage gumbo.  The hens are incorporated into the flock and begin laying eggs at around 5 1/2 months from hatch.

I placed the eggs in the incubator and plugged it in.  The incubator has an egg turner that slowly shifts the eggs.  This is helpful as it keeps you from having to rotate them.  I added water into the reservoir at the bottom that serves to keep the humidity just right in the incubator.  The goal is to try to keep the eggs at 100 degrees Fahrenheit.  I had just turned it on, so it took a little while to warm it up, but we found that the thermostat was set perfectly.

So there is the scoreboard.  We know when they were put in the incubator and how many, and when the chicks should hatch out.

We've learned there is truth to the old adage, "Don't count your chickens before they hatch."  In three weeks, we'll certainly check in on the chicks and report our hatch rate to you.

Eradicating Fire Ants in the Garden

The Red Imported Fire Ant (RIFA) or Solenopsis Invicta arrived on our fair shores in the 1930's in Mobile, Alabama from a cargo ship inbound from Argentina.  Since then, they've spread across the South and have ruined many a picnic.  Their bite is angry and it itches.  We've spent hundreds of dollars treating them in our yard.  They spread all over the place, making mounds of vicious little creatures that you don't want on your property.

You especially don't want them in your garden.  They seek the high ground during rains and the garden has been built up over the years and is a favorite home for them.  That presents a problem since we don't want to kill them with poison.  That poison may kill the ants in the garden, but it will also kill the beneficial insects and soil microbes that we want to keep.  Not only that, we don't want to eat vegetables laced with ant poison.  

So we've found a safe alternative fire ant killer.  We use Orange Oil, Agricultural Molasses and compost tea to make a safe and effective fire ant killer for the garden.

We wrote the recipe on the side of the gallon jug:

2 oz. orange oil  (this is pretty expensive at $34 for 32 oz. container)
2 oz. molasses
2 oz. compost tea

1 gallon water

We follow the recipe exactly and fill with rainwater and shake up real good.

You use 1 gallon per mound.  The directions are to pour it in the center of the mound and let it go down deep.  You're attempting to kill the queen.  Then you pour all around the mound, being careful not to let it run off.

Look what happens!  The ants are killed and the eggs are ruined.

When you pass by the mound an hour later, there's not an ant stirring.  We've obliterated the fire ants from the garden!

We will keep checking.  One must be vigilant in combatting fire ants.  They are relentless.  The orange oil is the active ingredient (L-limonene) found in orange peel.  It kills the ants by destroying the wax coating in the ant's respiratory system.  Deadly to fire ants, but it has a nice benefit for humans - it smells great!

A Time to Kill

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;  Ecclesiastes 3:1-3 KJV

Last year we let a few broody hens sit on some eggs and they ended up hatching out some chickens.  After they got big enough where we (thought we) could tell the pullets from the cockerels, we butchered the cockerels and put the hens out on the pasture with the others.  There was a problem with this plan.  We misjudged.  Two of the birds we thought were pullets were actually cockerels.  

This miscalculation was brought to our attention rather quickly.  With four other roosters on the flock, the addition of two more caused quite a ruckus.  A pecking order had to be worked out.  It's a vicious undertaking, to be sure, with fights and blood and intimidation.  Sometimes the roosters will kill one another.  Other times the victor rules and the defeated skulks around on the margins, trying to get food where he can and trying to keep from getting beat up by the bigger, more dominant roosters.

What will also happen is, well, we'll call it the "birds and the bees."  Roosters will seek out and breed hens in the flock.  The poor hens fall prey to this.  Lots of squawking.  Lots of feathers flying.  Two of them will be breeding and the rival rooster will appear and attack the romancing rooster in the middle of mating.  Shrill cries ring out across the barnyard.  Frightened, disheveled hens scurry off to find peace.

Tricia finally looked at me and said, "Kyle, it's time we help the hens.  Let's butcher those two white roosters that keep everything stirred up."  I agreed.  Saturday afternoon was the appointed time.  We walked to the barnyard and caught the raucous, romancing roosters.  We each carried a rooster to the chicken tractor from the back to the yard.  Tricia called it the "long walk."  The roosters did not know what was in store.  (Warning for the squeamish)

We tied them from twine in a tree and slit their throats, holding them over a bucket to catch the blood.  In a short time, their hearts pumped out the blood.

With one final flop of the wings, the roosters kicked the bucket, literally and figuratively.  Time of death: 1:52 pm.

We set the two formerly amorous birds aside while we waited for the water temperature in the scalder to reach 145 degrees.

Dishwashing liquid was added to the water and when it was 145 degrees (scalding), I began to dunk the birds beneath the water for about 2 minutes.  Up, down, up, down.  When you can pull on a long wing feather and a tail feather and they pull out easily, your bird is ready for plucking.  It's important that you monitor the temperature (hence the thermometer).  If the water is cooler than 145, the feathers won't come off in the plucker.  If the water is hotter than 145, you'll cook the birds.  We learned early on the hard way when we first started doing this years ago.

We toss one of our feathered friends in the plucker and spray with water as we turn on the plucker and the bird spins.  Soon, all of the feathers are gone.  It's an efficient process, much easier by hand, except it's a lot of mess and a lot of equipment to get out for only two birds.

Here is one of the roosters, devoid of feathers.  Minus all the feathers, the roosters are kind of skinny.  No where near the size of the Cornish Cross meat birds that we raise each spring for butcher.

The cavities are then opened and the birds are eviscerated.

Here is one of the roosters...  We're going to use the feet this year for the first time to make broth.

And here is the other.

Gizzards, livers, and hearts are lined up waiting for cleaning and packing up for freezing.

We cut up the roosters into pieces and put in bags for freezing.

With cold weather coming this week, Tricia is planning on making a big chicken and sausage gumbo.  Nothing like a good gumbo to warm you up on a very cold day.  One final note before I sign off tonight:  After these two roosters are now off the flock, you'd be surprised at how calm things are out at the barn.  There is no more shrieking, fighting, or violent breeding.  No more fearful hens running for their lives.  There is peace in the valley.

Getting Ready For More

When the single digit temperatures hit South Louisiana a few weeks ago, even though I had everything wrapped securely, we had one problem.  A ball valve on some PVC that I ran from the house out to the water troughs in the pasture, the garden, and the barn froze and burst the pipe.  After a couple of trips to the hardware store, I had everything I needed.  The line was dug up and put back together.  After a little time to cure, I pressured the system back up and... it held!  We're back in business.

Immediately following the arctic blast, we had weather in the 80's, literally 70 degrees warmer than the previous week.  It felt like spring.  But guess what?  According to the weather report, we'll be in the 20's again next Wednesday and Thursday.

Let's check in on the plants we're growing.  All these seedlings were planted on New Year's Day.  Most of the tomatoes are putting on their first true leaves.  That means I'll be hitting them with a diluted dose of fish emulsion to really get them jumping.

Here are a few more tomatoes, eggplant and peppers.  Their germination is a little slower, so they're behind the other, but they'll catch up.

I know I'm early on this, but the 80 degree weather got me raring to go.  I planted three different varieties of cucumbers, yellow squash, butternut squash, zucchini, and pasta squash.

Here is our homemade greenhouse for seedlings.  It's simply a baker's rack covered by a shower curtain.  That's it.  Nothing fancy, but it works.

But with the 20 degree weather coming, the greenhouse will be moving inside the house.  Once we get through the final cold weather, we'll harden these seedlings off and transplant in the garden.