The Christening
The creepy old dairy barn, where fifty years worth of rental dreams have met storage deaths since it was a working dairy barn feels newly christened as The Honey Barn. GD has declared it her, "I go work now." Even I am starting to forget the broken dream remnants which were creepy, even on the arf scale. Ya just never can tell what might take up residence in a long neglected broken dream remnant. Breakage can often be fixed and/or compensated for. Neglect is a less predictable body of elements.
Christening by Christmas created a superb comfort zone in the ongoing work to repurpose the creepy old dairy barn. The sloped runway that runs through the bee box room between the Christmas Room and the cow door has become a GK superhighway. Keeping tabs on them while I work on finishing touches in the box room has been a comforting balance. The gusty North Wind is quick to show you all the spots in need of patching.
Is it my hyper-vigilance whispering that mornings this calm are portent of a storm brewing?
Doomsay much? ? ?
Still no word on whether the two sisters will share a birthday. Even less word on the new sister's post natal destiny.
Replies
A honey barn sounds nice
Sticky sweet. . .
It has been quite a project. Perhaps the crowning jewel of my tinkery career.
Good for you repurposing the dairy barn Arf….. Yum all of that honey.... I can just picture the crumpets!!
Sorry you're feeling hyper vigilant sweetie..... Big hug....xo
Thanks, Jan.
Recognizing the dread as hyper-vigilance can go way toward soothing the savage beast.
Snake and lion charmers ain't got nothin' on a hyper-vigilance tamer.
Good beastie. . .
Crumpets? ? ? You volunteering to head the crumpet room?
Absolutely!!…. Big hug sweetie.... It's great that recognizing the problem helps ...xo
Congrats Arfie…..,,,,
Hyper or Joy?
God knows Joy would be welcome...so through the Universe I'm sending good vibe filled with Joy and Peace
My Parish Priest, Father Mark also makes honey, the Best he calls it "Holy Honey"
Back when I was still welcome in the Bipolar support groups, the manic episodes were generally felt as joyful experiences that were greatly missed among those who had managed to level their mood swings. That was enough years ago that it wouldn't surprise me if ^it^ has morphed into new and improved verbage by now.
The honey barn sits atop a hill that is covered in feral horehound. In the late 1800's, early 1900's, European dairy farmers commonly used horehound to scrub their milking buckets. Honey made from the pollen of horehound is thought to have medicinal properties. We have taken to calling the honey from the hives here, "Horehound Hill Honey."
Bees, too, are territorial. There are limits to how much they can forage from any given acre. We leap that hurdle with, "Outyards" sprinkled miles apart throughout the area we are working. We typically pay in honey for the space to set the hives. Our most prolific hives in the urban network of outyards sit on a church campus. Most of that church campus is steep hillsides that are exceptionally difficult to build on, so the wild habitat is safe from development. It is our most popular honey to date. We call it, "Churchyard Honey."