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Tips on How to Mow Like a Beekeeper

4/26/2018

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This really is a tongue in cheek kind of post, but with, I guess, a dose of truth in it. 

Mowing like a (backyard) beekeeper requires, first, that one divest themselves of any remnants of a "keeping up with the Jones" mentality. Your yard is that...a yard, a pasture, not a "lawn" to be manicured.

Which leads to the second point. You have to utterly disregard how the neighbors are going to perceive you. "Dandelions...just going amok! Haven't they heard of Round-up??" (By the way, you will be greeted with a shotgun if you try to spray my beloved yellow weed-flowers. Spray 'em in your own yard. Over here, I'm propagating them. Seriously. Bees love them...and dandelion honey has such a delicate, sweet flavor!) There is also a bit of a jungle around the front of the house. Well, I'm just waiting for the Star of David to bloom. Once they are done, I'll mow it. 

Third, you will learn to dodge bees and clumps of flowers. This will result in wiggly, scriggly mow lines. If you want a checkerboard patterned lawn--don't become a beekeeper.

Similarly, you will just laugh when you see a low-flying plane and question whether the pilot thinks the idiot downstairs is mowing drunk. 

Lastly, alternate which parts of the yard you do mow...because you really don't want the grass to eat your property.

How to mow like a beekeeper: Mow the grass...miss as many flowers as possible...and ignore what the neighbors might think. 

Your crazy resident beekeeper,

      Racheal

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Time to Clean this Instrument....

1/31/2018

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Yesterday afternoon, I picked up my trumpet (y'all didn't know I had one did you? ;] ), inserted the mouthpiece, lifted it to my lips, and decided I'd had enough. The moldly flavor had gotten worse and I needed to do something about it STAT, so I put the instrument down, plopped down in front of my computer and I looked up "how to clean a trumpet". 

I've had this thing for over six years at this point (if I remember correctly which birthday I got it) and between year one and now, I never really learned how to play it (it sat abandoned in a closet for probably four years without being touched), much less take care of it (we'll make health excuses part of things). Anyway, I guess in my idiotic, not-knowing anything about brass instruments state (I grew up surrounded by strings, remember?), the idea that it might need to be cleaned never entered my head. (Seriously  though, all that spit that gets flung down-tube? Of course it's going to need to be cleaned!)

Now that I'm actually *trying* again to learn how to play it, I just couldn't get past that moldly taste yesterday...so this happened:
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This was *after* the soap bubbles dissipated and I'd already cleaned the slides. (I also ended up getting some tea-tree oil in there to help kill the mold that I am positive was growing in the tubes.)
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Air-drying time...
I didn't get around to putting it back together until this morning, when Katherine kindly took the re-assembly pictures (good thing too, because I ended up with slide and valve oil all over my hands).
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It's amazing how *smooth* the valves are after oiling. I had oiled them not very long ago, upon the suggestion of a young friend of mine who plays...I'd never thought of it and it really, really helped. Of course, after washing, they needed re-oiling.
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I can't imagine a brass-playing profile without a double chin...so here goes. It may just be me, but tone might have sounded better? Flavor is, irregardless. :D

      Racheal

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The Scribbler

10/17/2017

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I have an odd desire to scribble. 
About what, I haven't a clue.
My coffee is nearing completion...
I have a job or two to do.

Vacuum and dust for my Grandma.
Maybe clean the bathroom for us.
Supper prep is in my purview. 
So I really have no time to sit and rust.

"Messiah" practice is tonight...
Handel was a master.
Singing is a joy,
Even though my alto is not so bright.

My attempts at poetry...
well, we'll just not call them rhymes.
Just fun. 
Gotta run!

     Racheal

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The Cat's Morning Adventure

6/7/2017

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My routine trip to the barn this morning to feed the cats turned into something more of an adventure than even yesterday (I found a dead possum in the back of the barn yesterday). 

I pushed open the door and gave my usual "Tom-Tom! Little Bit" holler; Tom quickly appeared with a big, hungry "Mowel!" I called Little Bit again (I didn't see her all day yesterday so I was little worried.) Well, I heard a little meow from the back so I went to the back. I kept calling her and she kept answering...but she wasn't showing up. Due to the resonance in the back of the barn, I was having trouble locating the direction of that pitiful mew. For some reason, I turned around, took a step backward and looked up.

There she was. Roughly 15 feet in the air on the rafters. 

Oh. Great.

She sure is a smart little cat though and as I told her to start moving and indicating direction with my hand, she followed (I also basically walked underneath her). When we got to the opposite end of the barn, I kept asking her if she could "go over there" (aka...step from her rafter to the door lintel). It took a minute, but she did so. I was trying to get her centered over one of the vehicle roofs hoping she would jump down. Well, she got over the green Ford first...and wouldn't jump. So next I talked her along the wide rafter next to the bee truck. The skinny cross traces where a little scary for her, but she walked across it for a little then backed up again. She kept pacing the fat rafters and I kept trying to get her back onto the skinny rafter over the truck.

"Uh-uh, Big Cat. I ain't doing that! I almost fell off earlier!"

Oh yes, and during this time she's piteously meowling. She really wanted down but was scared to jump. Finally, I got an idea. A can of food! (Prompted by the other day when I used a can of food to temp her down the ladder in the side of the barn loft--what a nut.) 

I tried just setting it on top of the box on the back of the bee truck...once again hoping she'd jump. Well, she didn't. She got a little more agitated, but couldn't quite bring herself to make that scary four foot leap of that narrow little board.

Bah. Do I have  ladder in here long enough to reach the top of the truck?

Yep. Right there.

So, up I went (I hate ladders). I ended up having to get on the top of the box myself (it's nasty dirty up there). It still took several minutes after that to get her. She wouldn't come close enough for me to reach until I had popped the lid of the can and set it on the far side of the 'V' brace. I kept tapping the can with my fingernail and it finally got to her. She got close and I reached out with my left hand and got a good grip on her scruff and pulled. She dug her claws into the rafters but I got her pulled loose. (Oh yeah, Tom had come up the front of the truck and was pacing around my feet. He was more concerned to get his breakfast than he was the fate of his little sis.) I set Little Bit down and went down the ladder....taking the food with me. 

Tom jumped off the box down over the cab and hood...and raced around to their normal feeding spot. Little Bit wouldn't jump. I guess she was still too scared. So...back up the ladder I went, taking the lid completely off the can and held it under her nose. Once again, once she got close enough I took a handful of fur. This time I tossed her on my shoulder and went down the ladder. The last few rungs she was literally standing with her front paws in the small of my back. 

I hope Little Bit will learn not to go traipsing across the rafters in future. This morning's adventure is not one that I want to repeat! Particularly on my own empty stomach...

      Racheal

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My "Little Bit"--twice within one week up in the air needing rescue.
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Last Week...

3/13/2017

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Last week, while not a perfect week (none ever is), actually saw completion of "things". 

"You mean, follow-through?" 

Exactly. 

I made it my goal to finish, truly finish, a few things I had started weeks or even years ago. And I did. 

First, I finished off my new corset (that was the most recent project):
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Then...I finished a pair of socks I had started several months ago. (No pictures)

And I finally got that last side and sleeve sewn up on that sweater I started in 2012; finished knitting the pieces to in 2015 or early 2016 and had mostly assembled in mid-2016. After all that, I'm not even sure how well I like it...
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Yeah. Over-sized....short-waist...and the sleeves are too long!
What's more, I finished up the baby dress I had started in February:
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Then I scrounged up my blue CW wash-dress and added a few darts so that it now fits properly:
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I added two darts in the front and two in the back. Required ripping the skirt off and reattaching it, but it was well worth it.
In between times I kept the fire burning, hauled wood, made as many water runs to the basement as necessary (we are looking forward to having the RO water run back upstairs one of these days), tickled the keys on the piano, and even hauled my cello out of the case for the first time in a couple of months. 

By the end of the week, I had also made a new petticoat (I need to put a tuck in it to shorten it up--for the third time. I apparently didn't eyeball that hem to perfection...) and gotten my new CW dress's bodice drafted and the mock-up cut out. I planned on stitching that up today, but I've been running on slow today--what with daylight savings time (what a joke!) and the snowy weather and haven't done much un-computer related besides making lunch, washing dishes, making two water runs, stoking the fire and hauling wood, and writing a letter. AND...now it's time to make supper! ;) 

      Racheal

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Kicks and Giggles

6/29/2016

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Apparently, from a young age I aspired to keep a hand-written journal and have always had trouble with it. My old green treasure box (actually a diaper wipe box) was brought in from the truck a few days ago and I'm going through it. Inside, I found this green book with gold lettering diagonally across the front proclaiming: Memoranda.

I've been laughing til I cried looking at the entries. My handwriting was awful (I think I may have written a hunk of it in a vehicle, so that didn't help) but my spelling was atrocious!! All original spelling, punctuation, and grammar.

The very first entry was written in by my mother for me:
1 March 99    2PM
saw an Eastern Bluebird and a Robin
It appears from that, and many of the subsequent scrawls that this was not only my first attempt at journaling, but also my very first bird-book. Apparently, I was a bird-watcher before we moved to Louisiana and began attending birding club...

I kind of like this entry...it's clear I was somewhat agitated, for my lettering is a little big and bolder than most of the other entries:
I Saw a Cotton mouth!
​1999 April 12
I even spelled everything correctly!

Looking at this thing, I find that at age 7, I spelled "saw" correctly part of the time and the other part of the time I spelled it "saol". 

*Nods head wisely*
See, I spelled with a Southern accent!

How about the spelling and capitalization in these? See if you don't laugh. ;)
January 18, 2001
rabins, Bilu Brid, Commen GracKlE

Jan 25, 2001
we're having camanee [company] to night. the cat hisst at me.

Fed 9, 2001
It is a pritty Day. I saw a lot of rodens. 
{Anyone else think I was having problems minding my "b" s and "d"s that day??}

Fed 12, 2001
I scerd the colee awey. I saw a roben, I saw mmommy carenals, and Daddy Cardunals, Swainson's thrush, I saw six rodins.
This next one I actually remember! It was really kinda cool...
APRIL 23, 2001
​I saw a spitr rap up a nat.
I'll NEVER forget this day:
Sep 11 and Sep 12, 01, In New York City & Pentagon the World Trade center was crashed into by tow Hijacked air planes.
Take a minute and let that one sink in. A month shy of ten, I had an inarticulated fear--of the unknown--but more than that, that my Daddy would be going to War. I didn't write it down, but I remember.

Probably my first attempt at poetry here is next:
April 6, 02
I Came up With a pome: M, I, J, A

My aim was sher
I never missed.
Just like,
​Annie Okely!
Right. I never could write poetry. That poor little thing doesn't even rhyme! (And 'never missed'? I must have had a successful day at the range. Other than that, it was just wishful thinking! :D)

By this point, I was writing some of my entries in cursive...but my spelling was still terrible:
April 7, 02
It is Sunday and we did home Cherch, had a ymmy lunch and we are haveing Psizze! Oh, and of cors we are haveing psizza to the glory of God!
Well, I guess I was on the right track there! I'm going to guess we probably had started catechising by this point...

Alright, I just about couldn't talk laughing over this one:
MAY 6, 02
​WE ARE GOING TO SIRT TO FILL UP THE POOL!!
Too bad you can't see the decoration of the exclamation points...(we had a four foot deep above ground pool in Louisiana. I'll bet this is when we first got it. :D)

Look, more nature observations!
June 27, 02
I Saw a black catupiler eating a leaf!

June 28, 02
I saw a spider that Looked like a scoreine! [scorpion]
June/July 2002 we visited Grandma and Grandpa in Indiana, taking the Natchez trace up. I have several rather illegible entries from the trip...I'll spare you those. However, this one shows what even grown men will do when faced with a bunch of insects with stingers....
Sep 6, 02
Daddy ran around the houes because of a huge wasp nest, it was HUGE! It had abuat 20 wasps in it.
This is varied...
Oct 30, 02
I worte Missy and We got a Dish washer and a campurter
Missy, I feel for you. Your handwriting and spelling was always better than mine. I wonder that you could read those old letters!

Skipping along, this next one is from after we moved to Arizona...
Sept' 14, 03
It is time to go to chaple. I miss my church. I spit tea on my sirt. [shirt]
Jimney! I always had a knack for spitting my beverages all over the place!

Anyway, back to birding--my grandparent's came out to see us in early 2004 and that's why Grandpa is mentioned.
March 13, 04
Grandpa and I saw a catus  wren. He know House sparows, as Einglesh Sparrows. Morning Doves as turtle Doves. We saw 3 Mexican Jays.
I can't remember what the Mexican Jay looked like--but I do remember the Scrub Jays. Bigger, duller, and nosier than our eastern Blue Jay.

In between the previous entry and the following one, my grandmother passed away and we made one trip to Florida in April for her funeral--which we missed. This is several months later...
Sept. 3, 04
...Coming back from Fl. Hurricane Charlie went through. Not to much damage.
Looking back, I can see there was actually a LOT of damage in our little town, but our places were blessed to not have any serious structural damage--just a lot of trees down. In fact, you can still see Hurricane Charlie damage 12 years later.

​The next one cracked me up...
Nov. 27, 04
We are going back to Fort Bowie today. We're also going to get nuts.
Oh really? Anyway...I think this was probably the day that Daddy fell and sprained his ankle really bad and Mom and Savannah hiked back up the trail at top speed to go get the truck--and Katherine and I wandered in the ruins by ourselves pretending and talking about the Apaches...(I don't know about you, but I kinda made my own hair stand on end a little bit).

There are only two more entries: One in 2007 and one in 2009. Neither are amusing, so I won't share them. 

I wonder, should I start carrying this little green book about again in one of the vehicles to scribble in, or should I just put it back?

Either way, I think I had better finish this job I started (cleaning my desk again)...

      Racheal

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One for the Records...

6/8/2016

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(Looks like my blog has been hacked today and we have a "guest" post... ;P ~~Racheal)
One for the Record Books

My Dear Readership,

The protagonists of today's story is my twin sister. Yes, you dolts, I do have a twin sister. You just can't see her--just like her audience cannot see me. Odd the way invisibility works, that's what.

Now, before you get on to me for sounding like the delightful, yet fictitious character Rachel Lynde, I will continue. As I said, today's protagonist is my twin sister.

I decided to drop in at home after a long and arduous journey to--oh. Wait. If I told you where, I would be constrained to sever your head and lock it in a safe for the next seventy years. (Don't worry if the "joke" went over your cranium--it's somewhat obscure in most circles.)

Anyway, as I was saying, I decided to swing by and visit the family. Racheal and our youngest sister were busily cleaning strawberries, clicking right along like regular old professionals at this topping and spot-removal business.

None of my sisters like spiders. Perhaps you already knew that. But it is very much the truth. Granted, they normally do not screech, scream, go pale, or faint upon sight of the eight-legged creatures. The result is typically a very dead spider.


Well, along and along, Racheal glanced down, only to spot a rather innocuous gray garden spider--sitting on her left middle finger!

So far, nothing record breaking about this situation--not even the bit of an "OH!" she let out.

However, that "Oh" morphed into something more akin to a yell of pain and the next thing I know, the girl had blood running off her hand! 

This, my friends, is where the record-breaking enters the picture.

In her haste to "keel" that spider, she struck out at it with her knife with a downward, scraping motion. Only problem was, the blade was down not up!

The resultant slice in her finger is roughly one-half to three-quarters of an inch long and how deep I was not allowed to see. 

Oh, and as to the spider? He did die, but only from the butt of her hand as she threw the knife down, and went to milk the blood from her finger a little harder. The poor creature died with one fell swoop.

Poor spider.

And now you see--it's not safe living with my twin sister.

Farewell until the next time I reemerge...

​Nate 

P.S. My dear Racheal,
I am extremely hurt that you always categorize my scribblings under "Nonesense"! Fie on you!
Aw, quit complaining Nathan! You're the one who hacked me!! Besides, you know you don't really mind--or why else would you write with an eye to the humorous??

Anyway, where have you been?
Don't ask. You know very well that I cannot answer that question.

And really, you are the nonesensical one. Cutting yourself wide open over a spider!! Goose.
Rooster.
Whatever.

​*winks*

​I like picking on you.
Don't I know it! :D 

Don't be gone so long next time, ya hear?

Nate?

Nathan??

NATHAN NATHANIEL??

Shucks. Gone. Just like that. Ornery stinker. Ol' cowlicked curly top gets harder to hang on to the older he gets. I wonder what kinds of adventures he'll get into between now and next time he pops up to scribble on my blog...he never does tell me much. Top Secret...bah. I think he likes to pretend he's a spook.

     Racheal

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Editing Giggles 

1/25/2016

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It is a happy thing to say, but the director's interview worked out!! In the process, I got a chuckle out of a variety of "things" and I figured I would share them will you in the hopes that you would get a laugh out of them too!

First off, my hair. Editor's hair is common enough...but it's particularly bad when I have it parted down the middle and it's not overly securely pinned in place.
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Secondly, two screen shots I took. One was to demonstrate a face you never want to see addressing you and the second was just down-right funny--particularly as the video froze in that position for a minute or two while the audio just kept ticking along as pretty as you please.
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I look like an absolute grouch....I was a little tired and wasn't *really* in the mood to shoot the interview, but I did it anyway and actually got going after a while. :]
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Ah, yes...rabbit face. Daddy said it was kind of cute. :D
I need to get the disc ready to burn again. :)

I also got the three rompers cut out for the custom order and I think it's going to be REALLY wrinkly to work with. Hopefully, my customer is good with that because she's the one that wanted taffeta. :)

I kind of think I will hold off until tomorrow to start stitching. I'm feeling awfully tired now and the weather is overcast big time.

      Racheal

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Take Four

1/23/2016

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Among the profitable and/or semi-profitable things done by myself this day was the fourth go 'round on the Cow Cavalry's Director's Interview. I sure hope it came out this time...

By the way, have I mentioned that I have otherwise completed The Florida Cow Cavalry? Well, I have. :)

I'm not overly enthusiastic feeling at the moment because I am feeling very tired and rather like just curling up and ignoring life for the rest of the day. I don't suppose the on and off ache of my right hip is helping much...I can't even say that I'm overly hungry... ("Quick, take her temperature!") 

Oh well...thus is the boring announcement of an exciting fact. :) 

​Cheers y'all...

      Racheal

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Soup Kitchen 

12/30/2015

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I can't claim to have done anything overly exciting today...just the usual hum-drum...but I thought I'd tell you a tale of a 24-year-old and a pot of soup.

Savannah and I had just come back from the shop and I asked if she or I were going to make the soup for supper. She, being rather exhausted, was on her way to a refreshing shower...and didn't exactly give any answer.

Of course, one could argue that I didn't give her time to answer the question.

I blurted out some nonsense like this: *in a normal voice* "I don't make very good soup..." *then in a mock horrified tone* "Ah...I've sealed my own fate!!"

Then I promptly clattered down the stairs to go take dominion of that area of my life called "Soup Making". I really am trying to show a little more initiative in the kitchen. Honestly, I'm 24 and I know how to cook, but I too frequently let someone else deal with it. I'm not talking about those days when I wander in circles because my brain is about as smart as a pile of cotton balls, but those days like today when I feel pretty good (if one ignores the low-grade Mollart's Meningitis that has been plaguing me on and off for close to two weeks now). 

Now, the jury's out on the taste quality of that there pot of soup simmering on the stove. We haven't eaten yet....

     Racheal

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    New post on The Bee Project! 04/26/18
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    The Middle Kid

    I chose to title this blog "The Adventures of a Middle Kid" because that is exactly what I'll be detailing (mostly). I chose 'kid' over any other word, like 'girl' (I am the middle girl so it also would have worked) or 'child'
    (since I am no longer exactly a child).

    I am a middle kid and I will always be a middle kid--even when I'm 80!

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