Grandpa's Guesses

Bringin' home the bees, part II

2010-04-03T11:44:00.000-07:00

Another view of the queen box with the workers hangin' out.

Here is a close up of the queen box.

The queen box is suspended inbetween two of the frames to hold it in place. Mom put a
marshmallow in a hole in the bottom where a cork was. The workers will eat the marshmallow to release the queen. Hmm-I think I have had fantasies like that.

Mom is getting the bees out of the way because she is going to invert the now-open bee box and put it in the hive. The bees should crawl out, release the queen and get to work making wax, collecting pollen, tending the eggs and larvae, keeping the hive spic and span clean, and, oh yes, making honey. The queen will spend her time laying eggs and giving orders.
The hardest part right now for us is to leave the hive closed and undisturbed for the next week while the buzzers settle in. It is now cold and cloudy again, so I don't expect to see many of them out foraging today. We did fill a feeder with sugar water for them to feed on until the nectar starts flowing.
The beginning of a new adventure for us! Yea mom for putting these bees in the box! More in a week or so.

Bringin' home the buggers.

2010-04-03T11:35:00.000-07:00

So, the bees hit town yesterday. I had a full day of work, and mom had worked the night before. She did agree to go pick up the bees and bring them home.
Putting them in the hive was not part of the bargin, however.
The weather guesser said it would be nice for the first part of the day, then cloudy, windy and cold. Bees do not like cl0udy, windy and cold. I asked my honey sweetly if she would introduce the bees and their queen to the hive, and she did! I wish I could have been home to watch, but she left these picutres.

The first one is of the box o' bees in the back of the car. 2 1/2 pounds, or about 7,500 bees.

Here is the box of bees sitting on top of the frames in the hive. The can is a can of sugar syrup sent with the bees. I quess they need to snack while in transit. Kind of what I do all day driving around. Maybe I can start sluping on a can of sugar.....

Here is the smaller box with the queen. The worker bees are staying close. Notice the lack of gloves or other protective gear. Mom is brave.

Whoa! Where are the other pictures? Hmm-double post day.

Home Sweet Home

2010-03-26T17:20:00.001-07:00

OK, so we get to invite about 10,000 honey bees (carniolans)-or however many there are in 3 pounds of bees-to our yard next week. In preparation, I put together the bee-gining bee hive. Can you bee-lieve it? I painted it a nice white, the the worker bees took over. The bottom box seems to be a floral theme. The top is a bit sunny, and the middle has depictions of bees in action. I like the Tolkien scene...

I have heard of army ants, but..... Perhaps these will all be in the Air Force.

The middle here has a bit of construction going on. It is quite amusing.

Here we have bees on the set. "Luke, I am your father."

And this one--bees on a journey. Didn't know there were Hobeets. Can you find the Golbeeum (Smbeegal)?

Well-there were actually a few more pics, but I will wait 'till the ladies arrive Friday. Can't wait! Sweet!

Some things never change

2010-03-07T07:32:00.000-08:00

Mom worked the past two nights. I often dream about her when she is not here-always seem to wake up and feel disappointed when I realize she is not there with me.
So, this morning, as I was waiting to hear the garage door open signaling the return of my sweet baby-puller-outer wife, I was picking out the first notes of "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" on the piano, I spotted this old photo.
This has been in Muma's house for the past 30+ years. I scanned it in and tried to adjust for the changes the years had made--don't I wish I could do that in real life some times--and here it is.
Mom was beautiful in this picture-stunningly so. But you know what? She still is. I am often amazed at her beauty and her goodness. And I am always grateful that she chooses to continue to put up with me.
So here is a picture of mom just before we got married. Yes, she looks serene and beautiful. She still does. I looked dazed and confused. I often still do.

Knee Surgery and Pretty Toes

2009-11-08T11:22:00.000-08:00

OK--Nat put these pics up--kind of cool, eh? As you can see, I now have a new left knee now to go along with the 8 year-old right one. Hoping that rehab continues as well as it has started this first week. Looking forward to some less painfull biking, hiking, skiing and chasing of the grandkids! Will add more later.

This is what the shiney new knee looks like before they cover the thing up with my muscle, facia, skin, etc. Titanium shelf on the tibia, cobalt chromium on the femur, and ultra-high molecular weight polyethelene on the back of the patella as well as in the middle. Nice, eh?

Nat--thanks lots for the shot of the toes--I did not paint these prior to surgery--doc must have had a bit too much time on his hands.....

OK, so which pictures to put on the blog......

2009-02-02T20:13:00.000-08:00

So, here are a few of the old pics from our stash. Mom said to publish ones that would cause the kids to chuckle. I think the one of grandpa Edge will fill the Bill.

One more stinkin' test

2009-02-01T20:32:00.000-08:00

OK--so I am slowly figuring out how to add pics to the blog. Will show mom tomorrow, as she would like to have some of the old pics posted for guffaws.
More later.

blah blah

2009-02-01T20:02:00.000-08:00

blah blah

blah blah test. This is supposed to have a pic. Testing.

Hip, knees, decisions

2008-09-19T08:12:00.000-07:00

I had a knee replaced in 2002-on the opening day of the SLC winter Olympics. It did great, until I crashed on my bike and trashed the hip on the same side. I now wear a stainless steel plate, with the accompanying screws and pins, in my hip (resulting in a leg about 1 inch short). These go well with my chromium cobalt, titanium and ultra-high molecular weight polypropylene knee. The other knee is getting progressively worse-has been bone on bone for several years, and I am now feeling it when I ride my bike... I talked with the physician's assistant to the Dr for whom I see many rehab patients. I gave him permission to take a look at my most recent x-rays. He noted that my left knee is trashed, my right knee replacement part is loosening, and that my hardware in the right hip is loosening.
So, decisions to make. Have the left knee replaced soon? Get the right hip hardware removed and consider having a hip put in to give me back my leg length and proper rotation? Do anything with the right knee, or wait for the prosthesis to loosen more? And, to top it off, I think I would like to switch Drs--I really like my original knee replacement Dr, but I see great results from this new one. They work out of the same office, so how do I switch without offending the old Dr? Does it matter?
Maybe I will just live with things the way they are. Don't feel like I am ready for any major surgeries yet.
Strange thought--while growing up, playing ball, going through young adulthood, my legs were my strongest attribute, by far. I still bike, hike, work, mow lawns.
the PA noted that I am an extremely highly functioning individual, considering the hip/knees I have. Perhaps I will just keep functioning and let things be.
A pain-free hike would be nice, however....

Fathers, Days, Sons and Daughters

2008-06-15T10:45:00.001-07:00

Today is Father's Day. I had a dream the other night about my father. Don't remember the details, as it is the case with many of my dreams, but I do remember the feeling. It was a comfortable, good feeling. I think there is something I need to do. Now, that last statement is not quite true. I know there are some things I need to do relating to my father. We have his personal work done, but he has not been sealed to his parents, his wife, or his kids yet. Those who knew my dad might question if doing this vicarious work would amount to anything. As I age, I am becoming more aware of not trying to judge other's hearts. I have neither the scale nor the feather. I am deeply grateful that the Judge of our hearts is He to whom our hearts belong. I don't know why I am often quick to form assessments of other's heart tones, when I am still working on my own well into my second half-century. How can I know others' hearts-even those closest to me in life-when I am still figuring out how to change my own? And I am more and more relying on an infinite measure of mercy and grace to qualify me for the "well done...". Anyway, I need to push on getting Dad's work done--at least the portion I can do here.
We went up to Logan for the night Friday. Samuel Tanner made his appearance. I love all of the grandkids, but, honestly, it seems like they get more fun as they get older (yeah--wait for those teen years..), so I hope and pray for health and good things for the new moms and the new babes, but I have a bit of "this is nice, but it will be better when they learn tricks and can at least be mobile" thoughts. Until. Until I hold that little squirming soul in my hands and marvel at the miracle of it all. Every reflex, yawn, stretch, look and expression still amazes me. And it did with each of my own kids as well as with the grandkids.
My first experience with this was when Ricky came to us. As a father, I had unimaginable feelings of love, astonishment at the miracle, and panic that I was now responsible for the well-being of another of God's children! Thank God that He sends help along the way. I thought I was getting the daddy-thing down when the next one came, and it was Emily- a girl! Again, the overwhelming feelings, added to by the thought "what am I ever going to do with a girl?" Then we had several more! Girls, I mean. Megan, then Lindsy, then Nat! And unique blessings each.
OK-the Fathers Day part. Of all the things I have done in life, short of finding my sweet (at times bike-ballistic) wife, being a father is the most wondrous, wonderful, fulfilling, blessed experience I can imagine. In my quiet times, when I think about my son and daughters, I tear up from the Spirit letting me know that this father-hood thing is eternally important, and a great blessing. Don't I know it! And then I reflect on the fact that each of these "children" have probably been friends of mine for eons, and that their spirits are at least as mature and experienced as mine. I do feel as blessed and overwhelmed as that thought implies. Then, I think of my own parents and realize that the same eternal relationship exists with them. I knew and loved them and looked forward to life here with them. I have been blessed to know of the hope for eternal family blessings, and I can, because of the Savior's love for His children, help bring those blessings to fathers and mothers gone before.
Guess I need to get a bit busier with the work.
To my kids--thanks for the happy fathers days-not just once a year, but daily- I have had for 30+ years, and continue to have.

Ballistic Grandma=Balanced World?

2008-06-10T17:33:00.000-07:00

So, we were riding on a pleasant June afternoon--mom commuting to work. No fossil fuel being burned--unless the Krebs cycle in 55 year-olds counts, sunny afternoon, bit of a tail wind, light traffic, life was good. Then, "RICK, WATCH OUT!!!" followed by a large white Toyota SUV making a right turn on my front wheel. I did not see the car until I looked up at hearing Vick's yelling at me, and it was RIGHT THERE. Turning right in front of me. Blocking my chosen path of travel. Well, my adrenaline shot up, I grabbed everything that even looked like brake levers, swerved, skidded, and thought "I've been on the pavement before, and it was not a good experience--a life-changing experience, but not all that fun--don't want to do that again." I did not hit the car--don't know how I missed it--must be watched over. Well, I do the sit up and yell, call on the SUV--always a good idea, and to my surprise, it pulls over. And, to my greater surprise, my little sweet grandma wife sprints--I can't catch her--to the SUV. A young lady gets out, she and Vick are discussing the situation-in loud voice-as I ride up. I hear the youngster say something about "yes, I did see you, but there was plenty of room". Maybe she intended for us to reach out, open the back door, and ride into the large vehicle, because there was NOT plenty of road room. Then I see my sweet, quiet wifey almost ride her Eddy into the front seat, grab the youngster by the sweatshirt and look like she is going to throttle her! Go Vick! I had to call her off, just to avoid a lawsuit, since the only lawyer in the family does something called "patent law". That is the shiny black law, I think. He does not practice pummeling law at all. So, I figure Vick saved my life from the young twit by timely yelling, and I saved the young twit's skin by calling my wife off. Maybe I shouldn't have. Perhaps the throttling of a young twit ignorant SUV driver by a sweet grandma would help restore some balance and sanity to a world quickly becoming less sane and balanced. At least it would have been amusing to watch. Next time I am just standing back. Maybe charge a small admission fee to passers-by.

"Youth is Wasted on the Young"

2008-04-28T20:50:00.000-07:00

Got a call this afternoon from my riding buddy, Ken. He and I are both in our mid 50's--yes, I am now old enough that I have started lying about my kids' ages. He said that he was on his way, with another teacher from his school, to pick me up for a little ride. I headed out, pretty 75 degree day with light north wind, and we headed up the west side of the valley. The other guy is a 32 year old who looked in great shape-has been riding for several years. We chatted and rode--always seem to push a bit more riding with others (does this prove that I still produce a bit of testosterone?...)--kidding the youngster about being out with a couple of silverbacks. He commented-several times-that he hoped he would be able to "do what you guys are doing at your age". Well, about 6-7 miles into the ride, which had been all uphill and into the wind, Ken started pushing a bit, I jumped up and rode side-by-side (no wimping drafting for this old guy), and we heard some dying noises from somewhere behind us as the youngster struggled (a little) to keep up, but was dropped by the two of us "at our age". We were on the last up-hill mile and a half of our out portion, so we slowed at the top to let Junior catch us, made our turn and headed home. Now, I don't know that we are in any better shape than the youngster, but I do know we have a bit of "old-man toughness". A couple of observations:
*I have been easily dropped by a couple of 60-somethings on a tough ride.
*I know some other 30 somethings who would never let this happen to them--think I am related to at least one of them--maybe they are "old-tough" before their time. Naw--just in great shape. maybe a bit of both.
*My buddy, Ken, made a bit of a jump to try to push me. Didn't happen, won't happen as long as I can draw breath.

Well-pretty day, nice ride, good to drop a youngster on occasion. Life is good.

Homemaking vs Housekeeping

2008-04-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

One of our lessons in church today was based on a talk given by Sister Beck in Oct conference--"Mothers Who Know". One point sister Beck made was that one of Mother's primary roles is to "nurture" the family--see the Proclamation to the World on the Family. She equated "nurturing" with "homemaking". There was some discussion of why homemaking is important, and some jokes made about not telling our wives that they are supposed to be world-class homemakers. But it hit me that "homemaking" is not at all the same as "housekeeping". "Homemaking" implies that the mother is responsible for making a "home". Home--the place we feel safe, warm, loved, cared for. I want to go Home when I leave this existence. I know women who have been wonderful housekeepers--spotless, everything where it belongs, organized on several levels--but not very effective homemakers. On the other hand, I have been in "homemakers" homes that could have maybe used a bit of sweeping or picking-up, but, it felt nice--in my heart--to be there.
I understand that Sister Beck's comments were criticized in some forums, but I think she is right. I know my sweet wife is a wonderful "homemaker", as I want to be at my home-with her. I think our kids, grandkids feel the same. I know I feel that way in our married kids homes, even when they need a bit of housekeeping. Hey, even fathers can help with that.

Walking Sticks, Tools and Toys

2008-02-03T20:47:00.000-08:00

I had a friend pass away this week. A friend I never met, but felt like I knew him well. He offered me counsel and consoling. He helped me realize that "It will all turn out all right".
President Hinckley went on to continue his relationships and his work. I miss him already. I have been moved several times this week to reflect on how he has meant so much to me. In priesthood meeting today, the instructor asked us what we remember about President Hinckley. I did not speak up, but I immediately thought of his use of a cane in recent years. Now, as a trained professional, teaching people how to properly use canes is something I do daily.
I often thought, when I first saw President Hinckly with his cane, how he did not use it as it was intended to be used. In fact, he used it as a sword, a baton, as a tool to acknowledge his gratitue to those who flocked to see and hear him.
He used it more like my grandchildren than a grandfather. President Hinckley continued to be playful, even at 97. That is something many of us forget how to do much earlier than that. One more thing I have learned from our Prophet. Thank You and Happy Trails.

The Elephant Song - Cool Tunes for Kids by Eric Herman

2007-12-23T06:21:00.001-08:00

Hey--I was watching a grandkid the other evening, looking at animal videos on the net, and searched for something elephant. Up came this one of the Elephant Song. It was nice to sit here with a toddler listening to some nonsense music. Remember "Born to Add" and "Hey Food"? Ah, those were the good old days of real music.

Cookie Purity

2007-12-09T16:30:00.000-08:00

I have learned this before, but, obviously, not well enough...
When I set out to make some delicious oatmeal, raisin, cranberry, orange cookies, that is all that should be in them--well those things along with flour, spices, etc.
I forgot today this one valuable lesson. Chocolate chips do not go in oatmeal cookies!
You spend your time blending just the right spices and chewy items for the beloved oatmeal cookies. When you reach into the cupboard for the raisins, the chocolate chips scream "grandma loves us in everything! Dump this bag in your cookies! They will taste even better with us!"
Stinkin' lying chocolate chips. I tell you, never trust any chocolate under 70%.
The cookies look great, but you can't taste the spices, the cranberries, the raisins--the overwhelming taste is the chocolate chips. Not a bad thing if you are in need of a chocolate fix (imagine that in our family), but not if you want some chewy oatmeal/fruit wonderfulness.
I guess grandma has a few cookies to eat. Maybe I can dump, er, I mean "share" some with the neighbors and/or co-workers. After all, it is the season to be charitable.
I'll make some real ones, sans chocolate chips, and enjoy them myself later. Call me Scrooge.

Wet snow, bad brakes, broken trees and it just won't start!

2007-12-08T20:47:00.000-08:00

Arose, after a short night's sleep, to a winter wonderland. It seems that I don't sleep soundly when there is new snow at night, as it makes our bedroom too light. Mom was working, so I wasn't sleeping as soundly as I do when she is home to protect us, and we don't have new blinds yet, so the snow light shines through our window at night. Anyway, I got up, saw the snow, went outside to shovel the driveway and walks-no one else was out it-and I enjoy snow shoveling. Put my trusty old shovel to the white stuff and pushed--this was no famous Utah powder. This stuff reminded me of the concrete I spent hours shoveling as a youth-only wetter! I pushed snow, lifted wet snow, sweated a lot-adding to the moisture content of the snow-and noticed, as I got to the front walk, that a neighbor had several broken trees from the weight of the snow. Short tale-another neighbor and I spent some time with the chain saw taking down and stacking a couple of fair-sized trees (as opposed to un-fair-sized trees?). I was then going to go up to g-ma's to shovel her water, but mom told me Nat was on her way on Trax. Rats. I needed Nat's car home to fix the brakes so we could finish the inspection. I picked Nat up at Trax station, drove to g-ma's, shoveled snow, drove up to school, hit Nat's car's starter with a tire iron, started the car, and came home. The plan was to do a quick change of her brake pads, pull the rotors and take them to be turned, pull the starter and replace it. Figured I would save about 3 Benjamins doing the work--and I have done these things before, so NBD. Went to pull the front wheel and found that the knucklehead who put the wheel on last week (not me-a different knucklehead) cross threaded one of the bolts. Called the knucklehead's shop-with the newly fallen snow, they were snowed under and couldn't fix it today. OK, so I went to pull the starter--got the skid plate pulled, the bottom bolt off and looked at the top bolt-which was securely protected by the exhaust manifold, AC hose and other things I could not identify, bruised my knuckles (not my head) trying to access said 8mm bold with several tools. I then called the good ol' boys. Chris chuckled and told me that it takes his shop guys with the right tools 2 hours to pull and replace the starter on this car--two bolts, right? Well, I caved-took the Prizm in for a starter, and, heck, while you're in there, fix the brakes as well, all right? And pretend to give me a few bucks off on the job, just to make me feel better about not doing the wrenching myself. Done and done. And, it's not about the money (life lesson # 12-when someone says "it's not about the money", you can bet it is all about the money--but not this time), we can easily afford to have someone else bust their knuckles working on our internal combustion predicaments. It's about the manly pride of fixing things my own self.
Came home on wet, snowy roads, pulled into the garage, looked longingly at the wonderful two-wheeled vehicles resting upside-down from their hooks-I think George and LS were both napping--and longed for a warm sunny day riding one, having it break, and doing the wrenching my own sweet self. Ah, for the more simple things in life.
But, the stinkin' car is done, and Nat should be safe in it. And that is important. And I still have most of the skin on my knuckles. Life is good, but it would be better with a nice little ride.

Isn't that curious, George?

2007-11-04T19:35:00.000-08:00

We have had stinkin' good weather so far this fall. Thant(OK-side-note here--I just did spell check X 3, and it did not catch this word, "thant"--I do mean, of course, "that"...)means that we get to go out on the bikes in the afternoons when I get home early enough (a benefit of being old enough to afford to live on 32-hour weeks). But it also means that I need a trusty steed to pedal. Seems like mom's Eddy lasts for long stretches, then only needs cleaning and adjusting. Maybe it's because I'm a Clydesdale, but my bike is more often in need of repair and/or parts. Most recently I have had the dreaded bottom bracket noise. After two attempts to locate a decent used BB, I finally bought a new one for less than what I have spent on trying to save money on the used ones. That is one of life's lessons for another time. Anyway, while my bike has been up on the stand, and I needed a ride, I pulled down the Abby Norman bike, put on a new front tire, adjusted the seat, and took it out for a few miles. Maybe it was the larger front tire (700X25), or the fit-it is a bit smaller than the Litespeed, or the fact that it is steel, and I am use to Ti, but the ride was wonderful. I have since taken a couple of rides on it, and it is just fun to ride. I think it may also have to do, in large part, to a bit of a change in my routine. Yes, I sometimes get stuck doing things the same way at the same time of day, blah blah blah. So, I have tried mixing up some of the routines in other areas of my life. Looking at the scriptures differently. Praying with a bit more conscious effort, being aware of if I am being kind to others in the casual daily encounters of life, taking a bit more time to really listen to my patients' concerns and stories--and it seems like it helps make life just a bit more rich and satisfying.
Oh yeah, it doesn't hurt that Abby's bike is bright yellow with red lettering that looks just like the cover on the Curious George books. Maybe it just reminded me to be a bit more of a curious little monkey as I go through day to day.
Thanks George.

Did I hear what I heard?

2007-10-07T19:17:00.000-07:00

OK-it is always nice to listen/watch conference. Once again, I feel rejuvinated and challenged to be better. Sometimes I remember specific talks from conference, and, more often, I "hear"-actually I "feel" these topics more than hear-a topic or two through the conference weekend. What did you hear this weekend? Were there any topics that touched your heart, that spoke to your spirit? Stop reading this for a moment and reflect on what you heard/felt. I believe this gives us a sense on what we need to pay more attention to as we go through our daily struggles. So, what is it you felt/heard?
I'll share mine. The topics that touched me had to do with prayer and personal revelation. These are a couple of areas that I know I need to be more aware of in my life, and it seems that there were several addresses touching on these. I can tell you, I think, who gave some of the talks, but I am eager to download the talks in the next couple of days to revist them. In the meantime, I will try to be more aware of my prayers and try to have a heart open to what Father wants me to do and to have the courage to get out of my comfort zone and do it.
And Abby--if you read this --"Sit down, John!"

Screaming Hens

2007-09-16T20:02:00.000-07:00

OK-2 posts in a day. New record. Big deal.
Writing fast, as I am sure someone called the police. We herded 7 of the 8 hens into the enclosed area around the coop tonight--no more free range chickens pooping all over the patio for us!
The one who stayed out? The Black Hen--the aloof chick.
So-I waited until dark, knowing she would roost up in the big old spruce. Snuck out and grabbed her by the hind legs. I suppose chickens don't actually have fore legs... She let out a scream that almost curdled my blood. And she kept on with it until I got her across the yard and into the chicken area. I am sure someone thought a felony assault was being committed in our yard, so I am waiting for the officers to arrive anytime. If they send the SWAT team, I hope they bring chicken frying oil with them.

Where is that magical tool?

2007-09-16T19:38:00.000-07:00

OK--I'm a dad. I admit it. Dads fix things. Especially things dealing with those closest to you. And we get really frustrated when we can't fix something. Especially when family is involved.
Mom and I went up to the Palouse this weekend to be with the Oscar and Poppy while their parents came down here to run. And they paid money to run a long ways, but that is another story. So, I was content that we were helping some of the kids by setting up Grandma/pa boot camp for a few days. Then we get a call Sat that Muma had taken a fall and bumped her head-guess she did not listen as the doctor said "no more grandmas jumping on the bed...". Anyway, I talk with mom, get on the computer/phone, change flights to cut our time short by a couple of days, talked with the running kids to be sure they can be back for a timely hand off of the younguns before we have to drive up to Spokane to the airport, so we can get Mom back here to take care of her mom. Then, when we get here and get a bit settled in, one of the other kids has a heart to heart with me about how hard it is to grow up, and the typical struggles of transitioning to adulthood.
OK, break a bike--I can fix it. Knock down a section of fence, bend a screen on the window breaking into the house, have the hose spring a leak, have the clothes dryer die--I can fix most of those things. But the getting older and needing more care, and the hearts that are bruised by this life--those just frustrate me because I can't do much more than listen and try to do fluffy, inconsequential stuff. The real fix comes from that magical tool talked about in Alma 7:11-12-- "And he shall go forth suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind...." (yes, I can quote it, but we need to see those words in front of our teary eyes sometimes). That is the only magical fix I know.
Bring me the broken bikes, appliances, sprinkling systems--I will try to fix those. I can only offer band-aids to the broken hearts and spirits. We have to go to our Elder Brother for the fix.