Getting ready for baby. . .

**WARNING** There are some gross shots in this post. If you have a sensitive stomach, don't proceed. Don't say I didn't warn ya!


I get more nervous about my goats kidding than I was about my own impending labors. This will be my 4th kidding season, so I've had enough experience that I'm not nervous so much in the sense of being scared, more like anxious and excited nerves. I love watching birth. Cow births, goat births, chicks hatching. . . I've never actually watched a human birth, but I was present for 3, no need to watch.
I could watch animal births all day. I'm fascinated by it. Especially when it comes to multiples. Despite all the grossness, it's amazing to watch a new life come into the world. You never know what you're going to get: girls, boys, colors, spots, no spots. I look forward to the improvements that new breedings will bring to my herd.

And mostly I'm just a sucker for babies.

Cute, cuddly, fluffy little babies.

With this winter being so harsh, I do feel a little worried about making sure that the kids are dried off and taken care of right away. A lot of pregnant women (myself included) report having a surge of energy right before going into labor where they have the urge to clean the entire house from top to bottom in order to make a nice clean place to bring baby home to (or into the world for those moms who homebirth). Goats will do this some too. We call it the nesting instinct. While some women start scrubbing the kitchen floors, some does will start to make an actual nest. Yep, like a bird's nest. They'll paw at the ground and bury down in a nice dry spot in their bedding to make a nice area to have their kid(s). They don't usually have their kids in that exact spot because they're getting up and down and moving around a lot while in early labor and don't always make it back to their spot to start pushing, it's mostly an instinct behavior.
I've had the same kind of urges already. I'm already planning on cleaning out the entire barn, and even cleaning off the back porch in the case that I have to bring kids into the house if the weather gets too bad. (Just wait for that post - it'll be more like an obituary because The Husband will likely kill me. . .)

There are some signs that you can look for to tell that a doe is getting close to going into labor.

About 4-6 weeks before they're due, some does will start to make an udder. Where their udder was just a saggy bag before, they start to fill out and their udder will fill a little like it's fully of Jello. I usually try to give them a bikini trim around this time, clipping the hair around her udder and rear so I can see the changes more easily, but in this weather I'll wait 'till they're closer to their due dates. This also helps the kids find the mom's teats, sometimes they get confused and will suck on random tufts of hair if they can't find a teat to latch on to.

Piper's udder about 5 weeks out from her due date.

But not all does will do this. Annie and Baerli insist on waiting till closer to kidding before "bagging up". But if you don't know your doe's due date, be sure to pay attention to changes in her udder. If she starts getting full quickly, like over just a few days - she's probably much closer than 4 weeks.

My tried-and-true go-to is the ligament checks that I explained Here. Once the ligaments on either side of the doe's tail feel like they've disappeared, it's time. Sometimes this doesn't happen 'till right before or during early labor, sometimes it happens a day or so before she actually goes into labor. But when it does happen you know to stick around and watch her.

I could practically wrap my hand around Moonpie's tailbone, this was the morning before she went into labor.

Her rump will look sunken in around her tailbone and her tailbone will appear to stick out.

 When things get down to business, the steps of labor are a lot like they are in humans. The doe will have a thick discharge, this is her mucous plug. Again, like in humans, sometimes this can happen days or weeks before she actually kids. With my own kids, I would lose it within a day of going into labor.

Moonpie losing her "goo".

Annie with a full udder and losing her "goo" last year.

At this point she'll be getting up and down, up and down. . . over and over. . . She may stand with her head against a wall, facing away from everyone else, or she may be practically in your lap wanting attention and support. She'll do a lot of yawning and stretching and pawing, she may "talk" to her belly even.

Things are really hoppin' when you see a bubble start to appear out of the doe's vulva, you should see a pair of feet and maybe a nose in the bubble, or you may see just feet coming out. If you see a nose and no feet, prep yourself because you may need to help the doe.

"The Bubble" The white part in the bubble is a hoof.

Feet with the toes point down so they are front feet.

So long as the feet coming out are pointed down, they are most likely front feet. If the toes are pointed up, they are probably back feet and the kid is in a breech position. Kids are naturally born this way, it's usually the second or last kid. Be on hand nonetheless in case the doe seems to be having trouble getting them out. Toes pointed up could also mean that the kid is coming out upside down, and you may have to help pull the kid out.

Here is a clip from one of the triplets that Baerli had last spring. It's a pretty typical, eventless birth that didn't require much intervention. Recognize that baby? It's Miss Kay. And the Jennifer that I'm talking about in the clip is another breeder friend of mine who likes the sundgau color. I will apologize in advance for my annoying voice.

It's a gross, scary thing to watch or be apart of sometimes, but it's also totally worth it. 

Charlie the barn cat helping clean off babies.

Healthy babies!

Moonpie was a good momma.

Being a farmer isn't easy, it's not for the faint of heart, and it's not always convenient, but the rewards are totally worth it and there's a sense of accomplishment in having a hand in the cycle of life and where our food comes from.

The Winter That Never Ended. . . And Being Allergic to Mornings

Is anyone else as tired of winter as I am? This one has been a doozy here in Indiana. Record snowfall, record temperatures. . . We've had some cold temps in the past few years, but they didn't last for days like they are this year. Today is only the second full day of school that The Husband and the Kindergartener have had so far this year.
I've never been a fan of winter, I'm a total fair-weather fan. Unless there's snow. I like snow. If it's going to be cold out, it might as well be pretty. I was just at the point in my life where I thought I could actually enjoy winter and the time off before the busy-ness of spring starts back up again. This year has killed that idea.
We're not even 1/2 way through winter and we've already exhausted all of our snow days. We typically get out of school the week before Memorial Day, but we're headed right into June and the high school has already pushed back graduation. We've got seniors who will be going to their college orientation before they've even graduated.
There's just 2 days left of January, then we still have February and March to get through, and it's not uncommon to have snow in March here too. . . We're just coming out of a deep freeze, and we're due for another snowstorm next Tuesday. Ugh. . . Hauling water buckets to the barn from the house since the spigots are all frozen is getting old.
The FIL says that this is the worst winter that the farm has seen since they started milking cows again back in the 90's. Such extreme temps are hard on the animals and the equipment. We're constantly battling freezing pipes, tractors and trucks that won't start, and trying to catch cows that are getting ready to have their calves so that the babies don't freeze at birth. (Note: We usually don't try to breed the cows to have their babies in January, but a handful of our girls got bred late. Great timing girls. . . way to pick the worst winter in 20 years to have a baby!)
I will say that I'm glad I made the choice to raise Alpine goats though. Alpines are part of the Swiss breeds, meaning that they hail from around the Swiss Alps mountain range. Alpines actually originated from the French Alps, but you get the idea of the climate. They're built for handling rugged, cold, mountainous terrains so they're pretty hardy critters. The cold weather has hardly phased them. I'll walk into the shed to check on the girls and occasionally I'll find one or two of them snuggled together in the bedding, but for the most part they don't seem too concerned. I've talked to friends who raise other breeds of goats and they've either got heated barns, or their girls are constantly in a massive goat pile trying to keep warm. They are eating a lot more hay though. Goats are ruminants and they need a constant supply of fibrous material to digest in order to stay warm. Plus, the girls are into the last month of their pregnancies, when the babies in their bellies grow the most so the girls have a pretty ravenous appetite.
The chickens haven't fared quite as well. I've lost 2 to the cold - including my rooster. A farm just isn't a farm without a rooster around to crow. I'll be on the hunt for a new one once the spring returns (if it ever returns).

In other news, The Husband started teaching the Agriculture classes at the jr high and high school this semester. It's been quite an adjustment for everyone to say the least. Not only has the school schedule been a little hectic with all of the snow days and 2 hour delays (and my awesome husband lets me sleep in on those days), but the boys' speech therapy has kicked back up and now I'm gearing up for the impending goat kiddings. . .
My biggest issue is the mornings. Farmers tend to be morning people, especially dairy farmers who are up usually by 5:30, and even earlier on bigger farms. Those who aren't can usually down enough coffee to get through it. I have never been a morning person. I love to sleep, especially through mornings and Sunday afternoons. Now, one would think that with practice, getting up early would get easier. Not so for me. I can do a morning or two of getting up before 6 am, but anything more than that and I start to get nauseous. I seriously am starting to think that I'm allergic to mornings. If I wake up at 6:05, I'm ok. I'm still sluggish and grumpy, but I don't feel physically sick. I've tried eating first thing, I've tried eating a light snack before bed, I've tried caffeine first thing, I've tried holding off on the caffeine. . . I just can't get used to getting up before 6. I wish I could. I really want to be able to. The Husband does it all the time with no problems. He can even do it after a late night during planting/harvesting season. But my stomach does not agree.
My ideal time to milk is at 7 am and 7 pm. I can head out to milk as soon as the big kids are on the bus to school, and it still gives me a little time to sleep in on the weekends. This also gives me the day to get errands run, shuttle the kids to appointments and practices, and still get dinner ready on time and eaten in the evenings. I can be available to help milk cows at 4 pm if I'm needed too. During the school year, it makes for loooong days, but once school is out things aren't quite as crazy. Of course, at the rate that this winter is going, we could be in school well into the middle of June.
But before all of that, I have to get healthy goat kids on the ground. That could be a trick in itself this year. Most of the time goats can kid by themselves with little to no problems. I like to be present just in case something does go wrong, but also to make sure that the kids get dried off in the extreme cold. We've lost newborn calves before to the cold, and then there's my doe Baerli who lost the tips of her ears to frostbite when she was born at the tail end of an icestorm when the breeder was at work. Being a stay-at-home mom makes it more likely that I can catch the girls in action, but this year the girls are due on days when the boys have speech therapy and I have to be in the next county for a couple hours in the afternoon. I REALLY hope that the girls kid when I'm at home. Luckily I'm getting better at predicting when they'll be going into labor soon.

Farm wife problems.

So there's a little peak at a winter day in the life of a farm family. It can be crazy, it can be hectic, but it's totally worth it. It's also a great excuse to go to bed early for more of that sleeping that I'm so fond of.

I Am Mediocre Mom - Hear Me Roar!

This morning I was watching an episode of See Dad Run (Scott Baio's last run at TV) on Nick at Night.  (First off - why does Nick at Night play all day on TV now??) This is not one of my usual shows, but it comes on after the Yes, Dear reruns and I happened to catch this one.

In this episode, David (Scott Baio) has to host a  playgroup at their house. As he goes around the room, trying to entertain and socialize with the different moms, he comes across several of the new "trends" in parenting: The Tiger Mom who doesn't let her kids watch TV and teaches them Mandarin at age 6 and has a 16 yr old at Harvard. . . The Hippie Mom who serves only gluten-free-sugar-free-buckwheat muffins (?). . . The No Coddler who only allows 3 hugs a day and makes her son self-soothe through art (and he's like a baby Mozart), and The Attachment Parenting Mom who has a 6 year old in a carrier still sucking on a pacifier. So that night, David has a dream and panics because he realizes that he doesn't have a parenting style. He then goes on to incorporate every kind of strict parenting style and winds up driving his family nuts.

Sometimes, I have episodes like this where I feel inadequate as a mom. Thanks to social media like Facebook and mommy groups on sites like Parents.com, I've had my eyes opened to a whole wide world of parenting styles, ideas, and attitudes. After reading so much, it's difficult not to be hard on myself for not making creative cutesy snack for my kids, for not reading 20 books a day to them, for not doing sensory activities from birth or teaching them to play the piano at age two. (Which actually, I did start the piano at around age 3 or 4, but quit in the 4th grade.)

After a little reflection, I've decided that I'm not an Attachment Parenting kind of mom, we don't cosleep - except on those exhausting newborn nights when I fall asleep with baby in my arms during a midnight nursing session or when the kids are sick. I wore the kids in a Moby-style wrap or in a backpack carrier, but it was more out of necessity that I had to get stuff done and baby wasn't going to stay in one spot or was just having a "hold me" day. I don't believe in coddling, don't make a huge fuss when the kids fall and skin their knee, I make sure they're alright, slap a bandaid on it if required, and send them back out to play. But I'm not a No Cuddler, I do hug them, and smooch them, and squeeze their cute little cheeks and teach them how to give butterfly kisses and eskimo kisses, and smoochy-smoochy face kisses. There's a balance between making your kids feel safe and secure, and letting them figure out how to make their way in life on their own. If they feel safe and loved, but not smothered, they feel more confident and independent.
I'm definitely not a Tiger Mom - my kids watch TV and don't know a single word of a foreign language - mostly because I have a hard enough time teaching them the English language (both of my boys are in speech therapy) - but the first words I did teach them was "please" and "thank you". And despite Kindergartener's speech delay (which he has progressed with amazingly this semester!), he's still held to the standards of the other kids in his class. He still performs well in class (except for coloring activities, he's not a fan of coloring), he's not at the top of his class, but he's not falling behind. He has his strengths and his weaknesses, just like EVERY kid. We live on an organic dairy farm, and I try to do things as "natural" as possible when it comes to our health and how we raise our animals and our food, but I'm certainly no Hippie Mom. I'm a believer in DIY and living simply, but we're not off-grid or anything. We do a lot of things the way that The Husband's family has done them for hundreds of years, but still use new innovations to make our work easier. You won't find anything gluten-free in our pantry, but you will find a stockpile of sugar. We're lucky enough not to have any major allergies, so I don't worry about having the household on a complicated diet. My kids eat apples, bananas, and string cheese as snacks. They still get candy sometimes for a special treat, and while I don't keep Cheetos stocked in the house - we're big fans of tortilla chips and salsa.

The Tiger Mom character in the episode makes a statement along the lines of "kids who are entertained by brainless media tend to put the 'me' in mediocer". My kids watch tv, Bo and Kindergartener like "Jake and the Neverland Pirates", and all three LOVE Doc McStuffins and the Octonauts. I'm still a stickler about what they do watch - you will not see Spongebob on any of our TVs or anything that involves blatant stupidity for humor, but we all like watching Scooby-Doo together, especially when we can find the original episodes (Hubs likes the ones with the Globetrotters). I don't let them veg out all day in front of the boob-tube either, but we do have times like right now when we're snowed for a week straight that the TV is on most of the day. I try to break up the cartoons with actual movies or documentaries on the Nat Geo channel. Yes, we have Dish - there is no cable out here and The Husband just can't live without his ESPN. But our kids also have to go outside and play and run and make a mess when they play in the creek. Bo likes to help me plant the garden, Miss E has to be right in the middle of things during milking time, and Kindergartener LOVES to go on Adventures (other people call them walks in the woods). We pick up hedge apples, look for crawdads, climb trees, pick berries, and snuggle with our menagerie of critters. We go camping and jump in the silage pit and hunt for chicken eggs in the hay. 

I'm also not Spotless House Mom, Drill Sergeant Mom, Never-Raises-Her-Voice Mom, Always-Put-Together-and-On-Time Mom, or Most-Nutritious-Best-Chef-Ever Mom.

So meh.


If our lifestyle makes me Mediocre Mom - then so be it. What I really liked about the "See Dad Run" episode is that at the end, he finally gives in at the next playgroup and gives his 6 year old daughter her beloved stuffed animal back. (He had taken it away and the poor kid had resulted to drawing a face on a roll of paper towels to cuddle with.) The "No Coddling" mom says, "You're going to regret that," but the dad stands up for himself and his kids and makes the realization that the only thing he's going to regret is not putting his kid's needs first. No "expert" can decide what is best for your family. No one has ever written a book catered to my family and our way of doing things. Sure, I could write such a book - but I wouldn't. Our style doesn't work for everyone else. What we value as important doesn't make the priority list in other families. I found out quickly after having The Kindergartener (back when he was The Squishy-Chubby-Snuggle-Bunny) that I didn't appreciate being told how to raise my baby. I didn't tell other people how to raise their kids, so why did everyone feel the need to tell me what to do with mine? I have my ideas, opinions, and theories about how things should be done, but I try to take the stance that my grandmother does: I'm more than happy to offer advice or ideas when asked, but I won't tell someone how to raise their kid. There's too much of that out there and we're stripping the fun and enjoyment of being a parent from each other.

So, I'll offer one piece of advice (because it's my blog, and I can): Follow your gut, it knows more about what's best for your family than any expert does.

Half-way There!

This week marked the half-way point for Bri, Piper, and Baerli in their pregnancies. Bri is due February 24 and Baerli and Piper are due the 26th, but of course like people those dates are just estimates. but As you can see, goats are also a lot like people in that they all "show" differently.

Baerli with 74 days to go.

Bri with 72 days to go.

Piper with 74 days to go.

 

Usually goats don't start to get really wide till about a month before their estimated due date, Baerli is apparently trying to pack on her baby weight early. She did have triplets last year (one of which was Miss Kay), so maybe she's got more than one or two in there. I dunno, what do you think? Here she is, with about 80 days left in her pregnancy with the triplets, so at about the same time as she is now in her gestation.

The Husband and I were pretty shocked when a third kid started appearing during Baerli's labor. I have no idea where she was hiding that third kid. Bri also had triplets last year, so it'll be interesting to see what the girls are hiding in those bellies. We could wind up having 6-8 kids in a span of 3 days! Or, the girls could keep me on my toes and drive me nuts like Baerli and Annie did last year. Annie was 6 days late and Baerli went 3 days late. I spent the majority of 3 weeks in the barn checking on them to look for signs of an impending labor. . . This will be my 4th year of kidding seasons and I feel like I've got enough knowledge under my belt to gauge when labor will start better.

There is no "tried and true" method of predicting when labor will start (again, just like in humans), but my favorite way to checking to see if labor is going to be coming in the next few days (or sometimes hours) is to check the doe's ligaments. There are two ligaments that run alongside the goat's spine in their rump.  

photo courtesy of fiascofarm.com. LOTS of great goat info there!

To "check her ligs" means to run your hand down her spine with your fingers along one side of her spine and your thumb along the other, feeling for those ligaments. Normally, they feel like pencils, they're pretty hard and round. As a doe gets closer to kidding, those ligaments get softer and they start to feel like rubber bands. Just before she goes into labor - or sometimes not until she's in labor - those ligaments will seem to "disappear" altogether and you can nearly wrap your hand around the doe's spine so that your thumb and fingers are touching. That usually means that kidding is within hours. 

Sometimes, ligaments "come and go", meaning that you may go out and check a doe's ligs and they seem nearly "gone", but then the next time you go out there, they feel harder. This can happen over the course of a day, or even days before kidding actually happens and is very frustrating. Annie did this to me last year and she nearly drove me crazy with anticipation. Baerli is the one you have to watch. She'll act a little "funny" the morning before she kids. And by "funny" I mean that you'll only notice it if you know her well. And her ligs will feel a little squishy. She'll usually kid within about 5 hours of breakfast. The first year she kidded, I missed it because I thought I had longer. When I went to check on her, she had twins up and dried off and running around. So the rule to catching Baerli in action is to watch her like a hawk.

Now for Bri and Piper, I'll be watching them like a hawk as well since this is my first kidding with them. The breeder that I got them off of told me that Piper had twin girls just fine. Bri on the other hand had a difficult delivery with triplet boys. I'll give her credit, she bounced back quickly and the boys were all healthy, they just got tangled up in there. Each labor is different, and things may go much easier for Bri this time, but I'm still going to give it my every effort to be present when she goes into labor in case she has problems again.

So, for the next 10 weeks or so, the girls get to hang out and grow those babies. I, on the other hand, will be impatiently awaiting their impending labors. . .

Green with Envy

I have a confession to make.

I'm green with envy.

Garden green, that is.

I love, Love, LOVE the vegetable garden at Colonial Williamsburg. Well, I just love Colonial Williamsburg, but that's a whole 'nother post. . .
When I picture the perfect garden in my head, this is exactly what I see.

Perfect, weedless rows tucked into nearly coal-black fertile soil.

I know Colonial Williamsburg tries to keep everything as period-authentic as possible. I'm pretty sure they're organic, but not sure if they're certified as such. They have paid horticulturalists who ply their expertise on these perfectly-crafted gardens all year long, but I still can't help but think that they use some kind of super fertilizer or weed killer. I mean seriously, their produce almost looks too good to eat. How does one achieve this perfect-ness?

Next spring will be my 4th year gardening (well, so long as you don't count the several years that I tried to grow pumpkins and gourds over in a hilly, rooty, shady patch at our old house). I always considered myself as having a brown thumb. A wilted brown thumb at that. Probably should consider it more like a black thumb. . . But moving to the farm 7 years ago and becoming a farmer's wife somehow brought out my dormant gardener.

Now, every year I have good intentions of growing a successful, gorgeous garden like the ones I've seen at Williamsburg, like the ones that The Husband's Grandpa grew before we took over.

Bo and I planting carrots last March. Barefoot, of course, 'cause G-Pa says that's the secret to gardening. ;)

I'm sure he's looking down on us, slapping his knee and getting a rather hearty chuckle at our attempts.

I've come up with pretty good excuses over the years: being pregnant and 1/2 a mile away, and then once we moved over here it was having an infant, the drought, going it alone while The Husband was deployed. . . They all sound like legit reasons why my rows are never straight, the garden doesn't get watered as often as it should, and the weeds and bugs eventually take over and choke the life out of my plants. . .

(July) Here the garden doesn't look as bad as it eventually got, but you get the idea of how quickly it gets away from me.

But no more. No more excuses. This year The Husband will be home, the kids are old enough to help out or at least entertain themselves while I work, and I'll be 4 years wiser.

Sounds good.

Right?

Then again. . . a little winter reading couldn't hurt. . .

(All Colonial Williamsburg garden photos courtesy of Colonial Williamsburg)

Ash

It doesn't look like very much other than Ash right now.

But next spring it'll be the site of my new salad garden.

We had some rose bushes that had grown out of control over the past few years before we moved here. Despite trying to cut them back to a manageable size, the poison ivy and other shrubby weeds had invaded and the tangled mess had broke down the old split-rail fence that lined the edge of the carport patio. So we decided to take it all out and start over. We're going to try to rebuild the two-tier design like what had been put in originally, but first The Husband is going to have to dig out all the old dirt and roots.

It's going to be a lot of work, but having a more convenient raised bed than the current one aaaaaall the way down at the other end of the shop will be worth it.

The Great Honey Harvest

Well, see as how I do call this blog, "The Land of Milk and Honey," it should only be fitting that I include how we harvest said honey to use.

**Disclaimer - we are new to bees. Like, TOTALLY new, this is our first year in the beekeeping business. We've had some extenuating circumstances and because of these, we chose to take a veer off the traditional honey harvesting method road. This is by no means the easiest, cleanest, or most productive way to harvest honey, but it'll do in a pinch.**

In my last post, I mentioned that my bees ditched me. The technical term for it is "absconding", but basically what happened was that the queen bee decided (for whatever reason) that the colony was not going to make it through the winter in their current abode so she took off with the majority of the hive. There's no rhyme or reason to it, but it's heartbreaking all the same. There were still several bees left in the hive, maybe in the numbers of 100's. 100 sounds like a lot, but it's really not. Think of a colony like a city - 100 people doesn't make much of a city, does it? These were bees that were probably out harvesting pollen when the rest of the colony took off and they came home to an abandoned hive, or they were newly hatched bees. Anyway, 100 or so bees isn't much of a colony, they didn't have a queen bee around to tell them what to do and lay eggs. It looked like they had tried to raise a new queen, but with it being so late in the season (October), she would not have gotten bred and therefore wouldn't be of much use anyway. Makes one sick to think about it (I know, because it did me), but the bees weren't going to make it through the winter, they just couldn't possibly generate enough body heat to keep themselves warm and they'll freeze to death.
Before the colony took off, they binged on the honey that they had spent all summer working to make in preparation for winter. And boy did they binge. The entire bottom box (called a deep super - for superhive) was empty of honey. They had also eaten what little they had started to store in the top box (it's smaller in size so it's called a medium super). However, the middle deep still had a fair amount of honey left in it. It still wasn't near enough honey for the remaining bees to survive the winter on, so The Husband and I decided that we might as well harvest what was there and start over again in the spring with a new colony.

So, on to the messy part - harvesting the honey.
Now, typically (read that - ideally), a beekeeper would have a honey extractor.
(Click the link to see a homemade extractor.)
http://www.myhomeamongthehills.com/honeybees/equipment/

This is a pretty basic one, but they can get a whole lot fancier and more expensive. The process goes like this:
You "uncap" the frames by cutting off the thin layer of beeswax that covers the holes in the honeycomb where the bees have stored the honey. You load 2 frames (or 4, 6, 10. . . depending on the size of your extractor) into the basket and spin it via a hand crank or some of them are electric. By use of centrifugal force, the honey is blown out of the frames, where it hits the walls of the extractor, and then slides down to the bottom of the barrel. There is usually a "honey gate" at the bottom which is a little door that you open up, the honey pours out and voila - honey in a jar/bucket/whathaveyou.

Sounds like sticky madness, but this really is the cleanest way to harvest honey.

You would then put the frames back into the hive, the bees would clean it up and start filling it with more honey.

But we don't have an extractor (yet). Plus, we weren't sure what caused the bees to leave. Even if we caught the colony resting on a branch somewhere, we couldn't put them back in the hive because they would just leave again. So we figured our best bet was to start with fresh wax foundation in the spring (you can buy sheets of wax foundation at beekeeping supply stores).

So here's what WE did:

Our deep super with 10 frames in it.

 First, we tried to just uncap the frames and let the honey drain out into a pan:

 But that was taking FOR-EV-ER. . . after 3 hours, there wasn't much honey in the pan (you can see most of it if you peek under the frame in the photo above).

So then we decided to cut the wax foundation out, crush it, and let it seep through some butter muslin (beekeepers all debate on whether to use cheesecloth to strain the honey or not since you can get fibers in the honey - but it was what we had so that's what we used)

A slice of honeycomb waiting to be smooshed.

The empty frame.

We mashed the entire comb, wrapped it in the butter muslin, and put it in a strainer to drain. I rigged up a homemade cheese-press using a gallon of water as a weigh to help compress the wax and make the honey squeeze out faster.

 

But then, God Bless Her, G-G (Husband's grandma) dug out this old strainer that they had used to strain honey out waaaay back when Husband's Great-Great-Grandpa had bees. I have no idea how old this thing is, but I want one. I can come up with infinite uses in my head already. . .

Old-cone-strainer-thingy.

The honey practically poured out. And, I didn't have to keep switching out my butter muslin (it kept getting gummed up.

HONEY!

 It was a sticky, messy project. It took nearly 4 days of switching out mashed honeycomb and straining the honey and I had to wipe down the entire kitchen when we were done.

But it was TOTALLY worth it! There's not like the taste of your own honey, especially after all that work!
It looks pretty cloudy in the picture above - that was when I had just filled the jar. The honey clears up a good bit after a week or so. Our honey is still a pretty dark honey, which some people don't like, but it's just an aesthetic thing. Dark honey or light, it all taste great!

Our harvest.

After it was all said and done - we got about 24 lbs of honey. Sounds like a lot, but really it's not (especially for all the work it takes!). You can typically expect anywhere from 40-100 lbs of honey from a single hive depending on whether it was a good year/bad year. You can extract more honey using an extractor too, but that's alright. It'll get us and even some of the family through the year.

While I was pretty bummed that our "free" bees didn't do very well, we're not giving up yet. There is a honeybee shortage and we need those little critters on the farm to help pollinate our pastures (they're a clover/grass mix), our wild berries, and our garden.

We'll try again next spring.