What began as a birthday gift from Mr. W in late 2018, has kinda taken over. Coolest invention, that Flow Hive, or so I remarked, and Voila! It appeared.
Some (entire) assembly required.
So, after a two-day bee-keeping class, lots of reading, and acquiring the appropriate protective wear, (I convinced my doctor that maybe I should have an Epi pen because it’s a long way to a hospital), I ordered my bees.
And, yes, there was a certain amount of trepidation as I drove home with twenty thousand in the back seat. Brave…
After a cold, wet spring, they took off. Gangbusters. Prairie blossoms galore.
Bountiful. More honey than the bees needed. Where to put said treasure?
Beg, borrow and seal any available bottles.
(Those cute little jars fit in the box my children made for me for Christmas. (See next photo of exotic colored woods. They are nowhere large enough, but I will keep some of each vintage in that treasure box.)
Next, drain and strain, and there you go.
The new gold standard?
[Maybe I can trade it for toilet paper in these unusual times.]