CATCHING

I looked like this all day.

Here I am with 45 minutes until a friend shows up and I've done all the shit I set out to do today and instead of watching the first 45 minutes of my favorite Bubba's Away Movie (Cold Mountain - he hates it now after the 435th viewing. Slacker.), I'm writing this post.

For you guys.

BECAUSE I'M NICE LIKE THAT.

Actually, no, I just want to get the random post trend started back up again now that the whole pesky BIG HUGE THING NEWS event of 2012 has come, gone and resulted in gainful employment.

Thank the maker that shit's over. Now we can talk about important random shit like HEY I CAUGHT A BOAT LOAD OF FUCKING FISH WOO!

Yeah, that's right, I got to go fishing. And, to quote my beloved hilarious slightly miffed father, "This is called FISHING, Jessie (my dad calls me Jessie. NOT YOU GUYS. Or anyone other than immediate family that has known me since I was wee. So shut it all up.). You're just CATCHING. You're doing it wrong."

Which he screamed from his boat on Father's Day morn as I caught, along with Bubba and my sweet uncle on our boat, "All the fish in the lake so that no one else had a fucking chance."

Or so says Finny's dad.

Salty sailor, this guy.

You may be getting an idea about from where I get this spicy language. Go with that. You're on to something.

Anyway, yeah. Bubba planned a very lovely Father's Day fishing trip for my dad and uncle to Crowley Lake (just outside Mammoth, CA) and let my brother and I tag along.

I saw it as a very sweet ruse to get me out on a boat for a day of guided fishing, but that's because I see all outings in which I participate as outings created with only me in mind.

Because it's all about me.

You know this.

But did you know that I kissed all the fish in the lake?

Well, I tried, anyway.

This guy was ready for me. Look at that come hither maw.

It's in the eyes here. Or, eye, rather.

Asking for it with those sexy spots, I say.

I mean, really, with the way they dress these days.

Just a little peck!

Whore.

 Also, Bubba took his turn making out with fish.

Full tongue on the first date? Suh-lut.

This one was not of age for kissing.

Practically begging for it.

First we fold the fish, then we kiss the fish.

Mmmmmmmmm...folded fish.

We all kissed this fish. It was the winner of the day - 19" rainbow.

And my uncle is not a fish kisser as much as he is a fish CATCHER.

LINE 1's FOR YOU, MAN!

No kissing. Only catching.

Quick march with the photo, woman! There are fish waiting for my fly!

And back into the lake with you, ya big tease.

No time to waste. In the net, photo taken, BACK INTO THE WATER STAT.

He's a mean tease, my uncle. 

That was the long swear-y way of saying that I finally got to go back out on a guided fishing trip (even made the guide's website) after the awesome one we took with the same guide outfit back in 2012 and HOO BOY was it great.

I love fishing. And catching. And hanging out on a boat all day while someone else does all the work of untangling my shitty casts (Thanks, Jerry! You're really patient and not at all giving me the hairy eyeball every time I fuck up my cast! Thanks for that. Sheesh. I'm a mess.).

Happy Father's Day again, dad. Sorry I caught all of your fish. I mean, it was a trip for me, right?

So, I'll just go ahead and be a farmer then.

I've really written this post a hundred times y'all.

In my head and in my fantasies and in Blogger and I still can't decide how to come right out and tell you guys that after the BIG HUGE THING NEWS and two years of horticulture classes and a new shiny degree and lots of time in a greenhouse and even more time freaking out and changing my mind and then unchanging it and then shaving the cat...

I'm actually going to be a farmer after all.

I mean, yeah, I DID say that I was going to be a farmer and that's why I quit the job and went back to school and tortured Bubba with all that What if I'm crazy? and What if I can never get a job? and What if RISK RISK RISK FAIL FAIL FAIL? then decided that being a field farmer wasn't the thing for me and instead I wanted to grow hydroponically and in a greenhouse instead of in the soil out in a field and then tortured Bubba with Is hydroponic farming even a job that you can have? and OH SO MUCH MORE NONSENSE which I will spare you (and you're welcome) - it has happened.

The farmer thing has happened.

And will BE happening on a full time basis in about three weeks.

So, you know, just enough time for me to relax, freak out again, relax a bit more, prepare a little bit by making some freezer Crockpot meals since I'll never have time to cook again, swim in the lake and then start work. After freaking out some more for good measure.

I freak out a lot. It's part of my method.

In case you're not already glazing over in the eyes at the thought of farmer-being, I'll tell you what I'm going to be doing...I mean farming.

So, like, get your eyes ready for glazing...

I'm going to be farming hydroponic organic live basil.

Like those live basil plants you see at the store that come in a plastic cone-shaped bag and can sit on your counter for the week or whatever while you prune off the fresh leaves.

Like this one that I grew at the college greenhouse with a million of its friends.

You know what I mean.

I'm going to grow those. As a job. In my own big greenhouse and new hydroponic system like a real farmer.

And I am pretty fucking excited about it.

So there. I've been waiting to have the right words to tell all of you kind crazy souls who've ridden this fucked up roller coaster with me for the past few years that IT IS DONE and I'm sorry if these weren't the right words. They're all I have left now after all that studying and freaking out.

Amen.

And now we can go back to talking about things that are less soul-searchy and more interesting like...

Bees! I have videos of the virgin queen taking her flight and coming back and sending the worker hit squad out to kill all the drones!

Uh...we're hiking the John Muir Trail in a few months and LO we are just beginning to train for elevation and just finished our menu and haven't tested our packs for their ability to carry two week's worth of food and booze yet and yes we take booze with us into the woods because how else are you going to have backcountry cocktails? There are sure to be a lot of fucked up stories in there. I'll share those.

The garden and how I predict I will change my tomato growing scheme to include only hybrids next year. That's right - fuck heirlooms! Yeah, I said it.

Um...I shaved Rocket.

This is her happy face. No visible bloody fangs is how you know.

So, back to our roots, then? In a totally non-punny way, of course. I hate puns! There - random Finny info for you. See, we're nearly back on track.

Someone bang my queen, already.

So, I started to write this in my ill-kept beekeeping journal and then, when I wasn't even making a move toward said journal and instead trying to convince myself that I'd remember - one day a month from now or whatever - I realized that HEY I have a blog where I sometimes write things!

So I'll blog my beekeeping journal entry this time.

Because that's a thing that people do, right?

Right.

I checked the bees today.

And, like every other hive check in my checkered history with beekeeping, it was not all easy like the books say.

Firstly, there wasn't any sign of newly laid eggs. Which means no queen. Which means FUCK ME WHY IS THIS SO HARD?

Secondly, there was sign of healthy larvae and capped brood (babies). Which means there was a queen about a week ago. Which means OK NOW WHAT?

But then thirdly happened.

I heard piping!

This so-called "piping" is the virgin queen's little cry for boning.

I couldn't spot her in the hive even though I looked at all of the frames because it was so muther effing hot that I had sweat drenching my eyeballs and whole face, but I heard her the whole time I was checking the hive, so I know she's in there.

All, "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" and shit.

She and, like, two or three other queen cells stuck on the sides of the frames.

Which I tried to take pictures of but couldn't because my phone was all, "No. I think I'll just not respond to your demands right now and just randomly shut down while you're trying desperately to take a picture of this unique moment. But don't worry because later on, when you're just trying to unlock me or something, I'll take a really unflattering picture up your nose or of your crotch."

The phone is being a problem right now.

Anyway! The hive check today was kind of a disaster, in that I don't have an actively laying queen at the moment, but also kind of not a disaster because I apparently have a virgin queen who will hopefully mate soon with one of the MONSTROUSLY HUGE drones roaming around all uselessly eating the worker bees' honey and then go around killing the other queens in their cells like a total bitch.

Other random notes that are more for me than you, sorry:

• The medium honey super had drawn comb on most of the 10 frames, though none were full and very little was capped yet. Pretty normal.
• The brood pattern in the brood box was good - honey and pollen socked away around a center of capped and uncapped brood.
• Some drone brood was present in the brood box, which is good since someone's going to have to bang this new queen soon.
• The bees were super mellow as always, not really responding to the smoker or getting riled up or anything.
• It was hot as shit out there and I do not enjoy sweat in my eyes.
• No pests were present in or around the hive and there was only 1 hive beetle floating around in the beetle jail and I left him there as a warning to any brethren that may wander through thinking this is a good place to make a home WHICH IT IS NOT.
• I broke open a few of the drone cells I scraped off the bottom of the frames and didn't see any signs of mites.
• I think the diatomaceous earth I used around the hive is keeping the ants and beetles at bay.
• There were a few huge drones hanging out in the brood box

And, yeah - that's it. Checked the hive, found it to be not working as expected which I totally expected, but at least it's not full of wax moth or mites or beetles as I'd imagined and hopefully I'll have a mated laying queen soon and not an empty hive resulting from a swarm.

Let's all say that loudly for the universe to hear, OK? NO SWARMING. Just bang your new queen and let's get back to business.

OK, then.