Blog Post

Rest in Peace Betty

Pat Daddy • Nov 03, 2021

Betty taught me a lesson that would change at least one life.

Betty died on September 27, 2021. Alone in the hospital. She had lost her only son Mike in January and all her close friends years before. 25 years earlier her husband Paul took his own life and thus started her slow progression of losing friends at a much higher rate than she replaced them.

It wasn’t always that way. When my parents met Paul and Betty in the 1960’s they became close friends. Betty in those days was quite the looker as was her husband Paul. Paul ran two Maid-Rite restaurants in Rock Island in those days and my dad would say that at one point Paul was his most financially successful friend. Paul and Betty took lavish trips, lived in a huge beautiful home and drove new cars. They even had a house keeper even though there were only three of them including their son Mike.

In the late 70’s Paul had to close one of his restaurants, the one on 11th Street, leaving only the one down next to St Mary’s church, across the street from the shirt factory. As clothes manufacturing began to be moved off shore, the shirt factory closed and Paul’s largest stream of lunch customers left too. Paul struggled through the 1980’s and refused to open a new location, and in 1996 in the basement of that failing restaurant Paul took his life.

During the 1970’s Betty too started showing some issues. She had what I would learn was called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Those of us that didn’t understand it just called her a “clean freak.” She carried  in her giant purse a bottle of green soap. It was an antibacterial soap that she washed everything with. If she used a public sink, the faucet was first washed with her green soap, and she never touched a door knob, anywhere.  She had the telltale signs of OCD hand washing; the red, constantly chapped hands that regardless of the constant barrage of lotion, always had that pink hue.

Odd behavior at first; chronically late for everything, She would wait in the restroom for someone to open the door rather than turn the knob, as her obsessions grew, her friends started to dwindle. It wasn’t just cleanliness, I remember in the mid 1970’s when we were vacationing together in Chetek, WI she began to obsess about ticks. My mother would “waste” an hour of her vacation everyday to slowly remove the hairpins from her big hairdo and check Betty’s scalp for ticks, of course one was never found. But that’s how OCD is; incredibly rude, incredibly evil and that’s when Paul and Betty’s fairytale marriage began to fail.

It was the late 1970’s and Paul was no quitter, but he’d confide in my Dad about the woman he married and her crazy obsessions, their unhappy home life, and the obsessive behaviors that made his home far from a respite of relaxation. Paul had always been an outdoorsman, and an avid duck hunter, and that was his escape. Days off from the restaurant weren’t spent with his once gorgeous bride, they were instead spent in a duck blind, or in a corn field somewhere hunting and shooting  ducks and pheasants with a vengeance. A cathartic exercise in where I wonder if he was really shooting his wife’s obsessions longing to recapture the relationship that OCD stole from him.

In 2008 when my son Smooch started showing OCD tendencies, the lesson I learned from Betty about not getting treatment, not getting her demons under control terrified me to the core. There we were, chronically late for everything, fights and tears over fears that made little sense. Finding someone to understand was tough, in fact everything was tough, his school, my work, MLW’s work, finding him help; all tough. Just like Betty we too began to lose friends. Smooches weird behavior became just too much to deal with. My happy son was now rarely happy, school bullying was incessant, MLW and I hit an all time low in our marriage.

But the lesson I learned from Betty’s inability to find the right therapist and learn to control her OCD only spurred me on harder to find the help my son needed so he could have a “normal” life.  Our worry was we didn't want him to grow up to be the weird guy that people avoided and who couldn't keep a job because of his obsessions. Thus started 5 years of hell. We saw numerous therapists, with hope in each that we met only to be disappointed. He was put on medications that didn’t help and only made his behavior more erratic. We signed him up for one intense outpatient program at Children's Hospital only to find that wasn’t the right fit, so after telling all his teachers he be gone for a month or two, he returned the Monday after the Friday when he was supposed to be gone.  The teachers surprised by his reappearance seemed only to question his parents sanity as well. 

It was however Children's Hospital that put him in another intensive outpatient program. For 8 weeks, 3 days a week my employer would graciously let me leave at 2 pm to drive from the tech center back to Castle Rock to pick up Smooch then drive back into Denver another 45 minutes to Children's Hospital for a 2 hour program. That’s where we met parents who were living the same hell. That’s also where you saw the parents that simply tried to appease their child's OCD and make excuses and the parents who wanted their children to go through the work and pain to learn how to control it. Because there is no appeasing OCD, whatever you give it, it just wants more.

Finally in January of 2015 the planets aligned. Smooch was ready to do the hardest work he’d ever done and he finally had the right therapist to get his thorough it. Over 8 grueling weeks of work, tears, yelling, arguments and the hell on earth the therapist explained would happen, Smooch emerged on the other side having enough “wins” against OCD that he was able to control the beast. It wasn’t done, he works on it everyday. In fact, he gave me a great analogy; it’s a lot like losing weight and keeping it off. If you keep to your routine and fight whatever are your demons every day: certain foods for dieting, behaviors for OCD, then the demons stay at bay, but give in and the dieters gain weight and the OCD folks start back with obsessions.

So when people ask why we just kept trying to find Smooch help, and even continued when there was little if any insurance money available, one driver was because I watched what OCD did to my parent’s best friend's marriage. How it alienated two people who were once deeply in love and had the world at their feet. How, like a cancer, the anxieties it grew only got bigger and more destructive and the resulting behavior drove away the many friends Betty once had. Simply: we wanted Smooch to be happy, long term, to be married and happy long term, to have many many friends, long term, and never to be a factor that caused his spouse to take her life, and finally, not to die alone, basically penniless because this terrible affliction stole everything; like it did with Betty.

So Betty, rest in peace, without your OCD, without your anxieties, without your routines. You no longer have the battle to fight, it’s just sad you lost the OCD battle your whole life and with it lost much of the happiness that can be the reason for living.

By Pat Daddy 22 Aug, 2024
When I started beekeeping 3 years ago my sister “Speedy” asked “ aren’t you afraid you’re going to get stung?” Truth was I had worried a bit about that but by the time she asked I was already getting comfortable working with my bees. Also as you wear your bee suit, the chances are highly decreased that you’ll get stung. But stings do happen and usually when my plans go wrong. Like the time we were moving a hive at night and it came open. Ouch, ouch ouch! This morning I was treating my hives for mites when I struggled to get the piece of wood that restricts the opening out of the hive. That’s all it took, a bunch of bees came out and were not very hospitable and one found my socks, and ouch right on the ankle. So far I don’t react much to stings and within 20 minutes they don’t hurt and any swelling is down. But that leads me to the point of this blog, some things are worth the sting. I obviously think my honey is worth the sting as are many things in life. Marriage comes to mind. Both MLW and I had our stings when we were single, but after 36 years of marriage, the stings were worth the happiness we have. Kids are the same way. They break your heart many times when they are young and then again when they are older, but if you do it right, the love and the adults you help create too are worth the sting. It’s not just relationships. It could be learning a new skill, playing a new sport, making a new friend. All of those require us to be a bit uncomfortable, but the question will be was it worth that “sting.” Sometimes you’re just left with the sting. Both other times like harvesting honey, you enjoy the sweetness of a good friend, the love of a good spouse or the great feeling of accomplishment, and you’ll look back and realize just like my ankle that no longer hurts; it was worth the sting.
By Pat Daddy 28 Jul, 2024
Our Crew on Saturday morning as we stopped on the trestle outside of Valentine Nebraska
By Pat Daddy 25 Jun, 2024
The trip to return to the Beaver Meadows campground near South Fork was planned in March. Before we could go, I would need to do a remodel on our 2001 Coleman Mesa camper. Years of use and leaks during storage left some of the walls puckered with water damage and it needed a face lift. Also the front storage area’s plastic coating had been attacked by the weather for years and I decided to remove it and rebuild it, which was quite a task, taking about 3 time longer than I anticipated. Our original intent was to leave Thursday morning and work on the road as we drove the 4+ hours to South Fork. There we would camp and get a spot for Michael and Angie, find some service and continue to work. They would join us Friday evening. However work for both MLW and I did not allow that and we instead set our sights on Friday morning. Friday morning we were planning to be on the road by 7:30 am. For the past week from crawling all around my camper completing repairs, I noticed I had a pain in the front of my chest. On Friday morning as we left, I had a pressing pain on the left side of my chest. I had two friends in the last month go to the ER to find they needed stints put in their heart arteries and both say they just felt “off.” I too felt "off," so I told MLW what was going on and she insisted we go to the ER. 3 hours later I was discharged with a clean bill of health, and was even complimented on my blood pressure and heart rate. Now we’re on the road 3.5 hours later than we planned and we hit every traffic snarl and slowdown. The drive to Walsenburg, CO where we pick up hwy 160 took and extra 30 minutes. It seemed everything that could slow us, did. We pulled into South Fork at 3:25 pm and drove to the reservoir and found that even though it was not in the forecast, it had been raining and still was off and on. The gravel road coated my new truck and remodeled camper with sandy mud. We were the first people to come to the campground and we backed in the camper into a very wet site, but our favorite. The bad new was, I forgot the keys to unlock the door of the camper. We had asked Michael and Angie to pick up our keys at home and bring them but I figured we could open it up and I’d try to pick the lock. As I cranked up the camper, something was wrong, I was cranking harder than normal, then I heard, SPROING!, part of the lift cable broke on the back roof support. Panic filled my mind while rain poured down on my back. I cranked a bit more and Sproing again, and then again and the back corner of my camper slumped. My camper I had spend 80+ hours remodeling was broken. I stood in the falling rain, crestfallen. We decided to go home, MLW took the truck to contact M & A to tell them we were returning. I felt so low. She returned, we packed up the camper and we were both mad and disappointed. As we started to drive out, MLW said isn’t there some way to make it through the weekend? I said if I had a 2x4 , then thought, wait, no I could use and aspen log to make a support. One of us would have to crawl into the camper over the door that was locked and as the roof was cranked up, hold the corner and put a thick branch in to hold up the side. We turned around. MLW with a glimmer of hope and excitement said " of ALL the jerry-rigged things we’ve done to save a vacation; I knew we could do something. " The plan worked but the ABS plastic roof on the camper was far from light, it was extremely heavy. But we were able to put the log in place and we set up the camper. It started to rain, no make that pour, and I put up the awning to so I could practice my lock pick skills and get into the camper. Finally I did what the car thieves did, I jammed a screwdriver into the lock, clamped a vice grip on it and turned until I bent the pins and the door opened. I already knew I had to fix the lift assembly, heck a new lock could not be that hard.
By Pat Daddy 21 May, 2024
I grew up in the 1970's. I could say the 60's but I'd argue you develop in the early years and you grow up when you have experiences to remember. One of many things I remember is that my Dad had an after work ritual which basically was to come home, change out of his suit and sit down at the kitchen table, pour himself a drink and play solitaire or a card game with anyone who was there. Often he'd pour one for my Mom who would make dinner and they would talk over their cocktail. If it was just he and I, he'd make me a cherry coke and we'd play a game. Societal norms have changed and the evening cocktail is starting to come back into fashion. But that ritual truly has some great benefits. For me, it was a chance to talk with my Dad. Being somewhat distracted by the game and the relaxing effects of the cocktail for my Dad made it easier to just talk. As a Scout leader I was taught strategies to get a scout to open up and talk. Many of those strategies revolved around distraction. Giving a young man a piece of rope and he'd start tying knots, and keeping his hands busy it as often easier for the young man to talk. Much the same was true for my Dad and me. I've heard it said by many men that the only way they could talk with their dads during adolescence was about sports, Dad and I had cribbage. As MLW and I became empty nesters, and having Smooch in Grand Junction, right next to the Palisade wineries, we started buying wine, which leads of course to drinking wine. As the nights got nice here we'd find ourselves on the back deck, music playing, having dinner and enjoying a bottle of wine. We often stay on the deck long after dinner enjoying the night and our conversation. If you go into any kitschy gift shop you'll find a myriad of sayings about wine. You've seen them on tea towels and small signs, things like: There's a word for wine and dinner: WINNER! But once we get past the funny sayings, in moderation there's a lot to be said for the relaxation and conversation that can come with a glass of wine. There's also benefits to talking outside at night or in dimly lit room. Those advantages are your more likely to open up, to listen to ideas that in the light and bustle of the the day, you'd quickly dismiss. Many years ago I read an article in Readers Digest that was written by a single mother of 2. One night she'd had enough of her young kids and she told the to get on their coats, they were going for a walk. The kids protested: but it's dark. The mom did not give in, they went for a walk in the dark. In the dark the family dynamic changed. The kids stopped whining, the walk seemed like they were breaking the rules. Instead of being individuals they seemed to become a team against the scary darkness. Even more the Mom found out her kids would open up much more on these walks. The walks became part of a routine and the Mom and her kids had found a new way to relate. Siting in the deck, enjoying some wine and talking does many things for our marriage. It gives us both a chance to talk and dream. To discuss worries about our "kids." To catch up about our friends and to reconnect. It often give us the chance to start to discuss tougher topics. Just like the family I discussed, between the wine and the night, our defensive walls are dropped a bit and that opens the conversations that are necessary to continue to stay together. So wine therapy really can be a "thing" and not just an excuse to polish off a bottle. However I'll still laugh at the kitschy and clever signs.
By Pat Daddy 07 May, 2024
Spring weather in Colorado is crap-shoot. It could be beautiful or it could be a snowy/rainy/windy mess. So when I was planning on buying my bee packages, that I am getting from two suppliers, I put the pick ups on to separate weekends. I am so glad I did. When you order a package of bees, something I've written about before, there's no waiting, nor moving your pick up time because the bees come on one or two weekends in the spring in a truck from California. Just days before, big hives, have had their bees shaken into a small screened in box until there is about 3 lbs. of bees in them. Then a new mated queen, in a queen cage, is put in the cage and it's closed off with a can of sugar syrup with a few holes in it to feed the bees during transport. Then a driving team drives them straight to the drop off point, in this case one of the stops was Colorado Springs where I ordered the packages a couple of months ago. After a beautiful week, on Friday night a wet cold front moved in and as it does here in the Spring, the rain quickly became a wet sloppy snow. Be pick up was to start at 6 am but an early email was sent to all bee buyers that our bees would arrive more like 10 am. So on Saturday the 27th of April, I relaxed at home as I watched the snow come down heavily. Then at 10 am I drove to Colorado Springs about 45 miles away. It was still snowing when I arrived and the temperature was 33 degrees. As I found a place to park and I saw people walking by with their packages of bees. When I got to the store, I was put in a line with over 50 0ther people that snaked through the store until you talked to a clerk who verified my order and gave me a card to go outside to the bees. Outside they pulled two packages off the stack, thumped the bees down so they would expose the queen in her cage, I verified the queen was alive and the I had my two packages to take back to the car. I wrapped them in an old towel and walked the block back to my car. And then I drove the 20,000 bees back to home. It was way too cold to put the bees in their hive. 45 degrees is the lowest you can put bees in a hive and it helps if the temperature is going up. So the two packages of bees went down into our basement at 60 degrees and I sprayed the bees with sugar water to ensure the ones that could not get to the feeder got fed. I also put a piece of tape over the small hole in the cage where the bees found a way out. Bees are funny there are always a few stragglers that cling to the outside of the package and they just ride along until you put the bees in a hive. Luckily Sunday it warmed to 45 degrees quickly and went into the 50s and the girls only had to spend one night in the basement. The first two restarted hives were the Gumbees and the Frizbees. Saturday the 4th of May dawned cloudy and windy with a promise of Sun mid morning. These bees came from Wardle Feed in Wheat Ridge. Wardle sent an email asking that the first half of the alphabet pick up your bees between 6 am and 7:30 and the second between 7:30 and 9 am. I was driving up with my friend Steve Zahnow so we got there a little after 7. They handled their bees a bit different. Much less "agricultural" than Rocky Mountain Bee Supply. They sent lots of emails the previous week when they too handed out bees in the snow. Unlike Rocky Mtn's one email explainaing the truck was late. At Wardle they don't thump your bees, they just check them before you come and you drive up and they put your packages in your car. So about 7:15 we were driving back to Steve's with about 30,000 bees in the car. It was still windy and cold. After dropping off his package of bees we went to my house for his first in person bee lesson. I am mentoring Steve so he can learn to keep bees too. Finally after an hour the clouds broke up and the day warmed quickly. Steve helped me set up my next two hives. I tried something different this time and I think it will be my new way of installing bees. The former way of installing bees is that you open the package, pull out the queen cage, remove two of the frames and dump in the bees. Most of them drop in the hive but many take flight. Then they try to find their way back into the hive. I had seen on YouTube that many bee keepers remove half of the frames, then they remove the queen cage, set it between two frames and place the entire package of bees in the hive and put the lid on the hive. It's so easy and puts less stress on the bees. They just walk out of the cage and back toward the queen. A few hours later you open the hive, pull out the cage that is now empty, shake the few bees on the out side of the cage into the hive and replace the 5 frames. Definitely the way I'll be doing packages in the future. Last week I found eggs in the Frizbees so their queen is laying. That means new bees in 21 days, from the time they were laid. I hope the queen of the Gumbees is also laying, she wasn't quite laying eggs yet, it takes a few days for a newly mated queen to be ready to lay. The hives we started this weekend were the NewBees and our newest hive the Airbnbees. I release their queens on today, Tuesday. So year three of my beekeeping adventure is on it's way. It's so nice to have bees again!
By Pat Daddy 29 Apr, 2024
When it comes to one line wisdom sayings I have my list. Such as: Never argue with an idiot, people cant tell the difference. I later learned that saying was a short version of Mark Twains quote: "Never argue with an idiot. They will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience." My Dad used to say, never sleep with a woman who is crazier than you. But the one that really stuck with me and has had numerous applications in my life is from the rock band 39 Special. Hold on loosely, but don't let go. When I was Scoutmaster of Troop 260 our Spring fund raising was done by aerating lawns. For two weekends in April we'd run aerators on lawns all over town. It was exhausting work but very profitable for the Troop. I was always amazed by the other dads who I knew were stronger and younger than me, that were exhausted after only a couple of lawns. As I watched them it was because they tried to muscle the machine, rather than guide the machine. If you're not familiar with an aerator it's a heavy machine that has a drum on it with 4 inch hollow spikes that your run across a lawn and pull out plugs of grass and soil to allow water and nutrients through the layer of thatch and roots that are in all lawns. As it runs the spikes go into the ground and they obviously grip and they can pull you along. I would say to them, when you aerate you have to think about 38 Special. They'd look at me funny and I'd continue, you have to: hold on loosely, but don't let go. If you cling too tightly you're gonna lose control. Working with the aerator you can guide it while it goes across a lawn and it's very easy. You need to consider where you want to end up before you start and if you guide the machine it will go, but try to muscle it and it will win every time. So both my boys know this song as the "aeration song." The song is actually about managing a relationship and again it's wisdom is timeless. You can use this with your spouse your kids, your relatives, your friends, your direct reports at work, heck it even works with your dog! But the message is you can't control many things, especially other people. You can influence them, just not control them, even if you sign their paycheck. When it comes to being married it's a great lesson again. However you can also mis-use the words. As far as holding on loosely, sometimes in a marriage the only thing you have to hold onto is each other. Especially when going through life's trials. If the two of you aren't turning inward for support first, well you might ask yourself why. But like all things there are times you have to hold on loosely so the other person can get information from other sources. So you may just have to let them get the advice while you are still available to them. Often the words of a true friend can be heard and accepted while being a bit more honest. Kind of like when you wear something that may not look the best on you, your friend may be able to be more honest or direct than your spouse without hurting your feelings. As I write this MLW and I are coming up on 36 years of marriage. If asked how we've stayed married that long, I'll often say a few things. First don't sweat the small stuff. Forget the arguments, forget the comments that were intended to be funny but weren't. If something hurts your feelings, before you let it fester, find a time to say, when you said ... it made me feel.... Talk it through and then forget it. In other words don't look for fight. Find friends with strong marriages and spend time with them and learn from them. The inverse is true too. If you find yourself doing things with a couple who is toxic, stop doing things with them. MLW and I tend to make jokes out of some of our biggest fights. It's a great way for us laugh about silly things we fought about that were so intense at the time but were really pretty silly. Here's an example: About 20 years ago we were driving through Missouri coming back from a family reunion. We were driving the truck and pulling the camper and MLW was at the wheel. I looked up and saw that traffic had stopped for someone in our lane turning left. I try not to be a backseat driver but I saw the upcoming hazard and just said "brake" MLW who did not see the hazard, looked at me and said what? I said with more urgency in my voice, "Brake", but MLW was still not getting the message, so I yelled and pointed for her to see the now quickly approaching accident "BRAKE!" She slammed on the brakes the trailer swerved we left a few skid marks and we did not have an accident. However with all the adrenaline in our bodies, and argument quick ensued: Why didn't you hit the brake?! I thought you were saying "Blake!" Why the hell would I say Blake!?!?! I don't know that's what I was trying to figure out! It continued with a few terse words, then driving in silence for 20 minutes, then as she does, MLW said at some point "traffics slowing down I suppose I should Blake". Now some twenty years later if either of us see an approaching hazard, we'll likely say, you might be ready to Blake... We both smile and whomever is driving slows down. Why does this work in our marriage? We both owned a stupid argument. Then we turned it into something that is ours. It's our experience, it's become our language. It means little to anyone else, but to us, it's basically saying "I love you" and the same time warning the other they might need to slow down. That's holding on loosely, but you are letting go of the anger, but not of our love for each other. Because if we had clung too tightly to the emotions of that silly argument, we would have lost control. So whether you think of aerating, dating, relationships, or just trying to eat a big messy sub sandwich, when you hear that song playing on the radio. I urge you to listen to those wise words and incorporate that thinking into your life. Because many times in life, if you'll just loosen your grip a bit, you'll find you'll enjoy most any experience much more.
By Pat Daddy 26 Apr, 2024
In December our little college bungalow in Grand Junction became empty. Our last renters moved out and Smooch had already moved home. It had done it’s job giving Smooch and his roommates a nice place to live during their college years. But Smooch learned as many of us do that is first job was not what he wanted to do for a living and the draw of more jobs brought him back to the front range. It also became time to sell the Grand Junction house. The first thing you learn when your kids live in a house that you own is that they are homeowners in training. They don’t clean as often as you’d like, the lawn is not as pretty as it could be and maintenance happens when something is broken, not when you can see it needs maintenance before it breaks. MLW and I quickly learned that the holiday season was too busy to even think about going over on a weekend, so we started cleaning up the house in January. That’s when you realize just how far Grand Junction can be from Sedalia. Most folks will tell you its a 4 hour drive. But that four hours is if you can drive in the middle of the day or at night. In winter you’re in the middle of ski season, so you must time your departure with ski traffic in mind, or your 4 hour drive quickly becomes 5,6,7 hours or longer. Then there’s weather and if the passes are going to be open. Vail pass, while it may be on a major interstate highway, is still at 10,666 feet. And yes that 666 in the number means it can be the devil. From snow slides to snow slide mitigation and just weather and traffic, you always have to watch the weather and the traffic in the winter. That was for may years your only worries, traffic, which is also busy as soon as nice spring weather comes until the last aspen leaf falls in the fall. But now since the fire in Glenwood Canyon, you have to be prepared for mudslides due to rain. If Glenwood Canyon closes, the detour is 4 more hours. So again it’s not just get in your car and drive, especially when you have things to get done in Grand Junction. That’s also why I look at people funny who suggest we keep the house as a rental. In January the weekend cleanings began. We aware able to get over there about 4 times and in that time cleaned, painted and repaired. 20 year old-ish boys are very hard on a house. From holes in walls to holes in doors, the house takes the brunt of their life's frustrations. We could have named several of the holes after Smooches former girlfriends. There was also one hole that held a 40 oz. bottle of beer. When we went to repair that, Smooch said, "no you can’t patch that, it’s the 40 hole!" Given that most house buyers would see it as nothing more than a hole, it too was patched and painted. I think it took 4 weekends and finally in March the house was on the market. We had it under contract in less than 48 hours. How easy! Well not so much. Little did I know the potential buyers did not qualify for the price of the house but a much lower number and they wanted us to give them money from the sale to close. Everything was a nickel and dime transaction until we finally said “no” and the sale fell through. This past week after some serious back and forth we finally got the house under contract again. This time the buyers are prequalified. I am cautiously optimistic, but am waiting for the inspection to see what things they’ll ask for. The house was built in 1954, so the basement has what is probably asbestos tile on the floor. It’s in good shape and mostly covered anyway, but it just sits there for the new buyers to quibble over. It didn’t bother us because of all our years in insurance, we understand that asbestos is not as the plaintiff attorneys would like you to think. So I don’t know what’s more stressful, having the house under contract and waiting to see if it’s going to close, or having it up for sale and waiting for the “perfect” buyer to come and buy it. But we are closer to having it sold than not and if this sale makes it, there will be another parent, watching the weather and the traffic to travel to Grand Junction, where they own a house their kid lives in.
By Pat Daddy 20 Apr, 2024
We found out a few weeks ago that E and NP are having a baby. That’s a conversation with a lot of emotions. I’d try to list out the emotions that hit me but they were much more like an emotion snowball than a stream of thoughts. They told us the news and bam! The emotion snow ball hit me in the head and my thoughts went something like this: What! Really?, oh my gosh am I that old? Oh that’s cool, scary, terrifying, happy, exciting, news! Wait, am I really that old? When did that happen? I guess the kids are 30 now, Stop thinking about how old you are, this is happy news! Oh my gosh will it be a little boy or girl? I can’t wait to build a swingset and camp in the backyard. Wait, I’ll be how old when he/she graduates from high school!!, Geez, get off the age thing already. But wait E was just a little boy the other day, how can he be a Dad? (eyes well-up), Oh thank the Lord it’s not Smooch telling me this, Whew! Yay!..... That was the abridged version because that was in the first second of hearing the news. It went on, in fact it still goes on, especially the “old” part, just a bit slower now. In many ways it doesn’t seem real. NP isn’t showing yet, and I think that’s when it’s really going to start feeling real. Speaking of feeling “real” they let us know it’s going to be a girl. Now it’s getting… real-er. NP’s sister Kaeleen is also pregnant, due around July 1. NP is due Oct 13. I had a very strong hunch that once we found that Kaeleen was pregnant, that NP would be close behind. How fun for their kids that they’ll have cousins close by and the same age. I am excited to have a granddaughter. MLW and I always figured God knew what we would be best at and he gave us boys. My friends with teenage girls roll their eyes when I tell them I had wanted a daughter. They laugh and tell me I dodged a bullet there. Either way I think the boys turned out alright and now I’ll get that little girl to play with after all. Now it’s time to wait and think about the big adventure E & NP are about to embark on, and try not to think about how old I am…
By Pat Daddy 01 Mar, 2024
For the first time in almost 2 years I am bee-less. After the frustrating summer I had where I lost the Gumbees to a combination of weak queen, then the killing of the new queen by the hive. Then to have the false hope that the three queen cells I found in the hive could hatch, only to have two of them killed by robbing bees in my nucleus hives and the one left in the Gumbee hive failed to hatch. So that was the end of the Gumbees. After a very nice honey harvest the New Bees looked like they were doing great, that's when I found they and the Frizbee's had an explosion of mites. I did what I could to treat them, but then again the robbing bees came and they emptied the entire New Bee hive and killed the queen. When I opened the hive in early September, it was empty but for some opportunistic yellow jackets who were looking for any left over honey. Then all that was left was the Frizbees. I found they had raised a new queen. How did I do that? Well by accident actually. My previous queen was marked, when I inspected the hive in September, a new queen walked across one of the frames as if to say hello. So I prepped them in December for winter with their insulation and a candy board. But the hive was weak from the previous mite infestation and the deep freeze of early January was too much for the hive. On a warm day in late January I opened the hive to find thousands of dead bees. What a sad day. I thought I could avoid losing bees by taking classes, watching videos and reading books. Which all really helps. But like many things in life, a big part of beekeeping is doing. I've learned a bunch from my experience and the additional class I have taken on mite control. So on April 27th, I'll start over with 4 packages of bees. You'll remember that'll be 4 hives. I'm buying them from two different suppliers so I'll have some different genetics in the hives. I have to change how I manage my apiary. My 4 packages of new bees is going to cost me $600 as it is and I'm going to need some new strategies to keep these girls healthy and safe. First I need to stop the other bees in the area from robbing and killing my bees. The worst time for robbing is Spring and especially Fall when the flowers stop producing nectar. What really got my hives last year was the hard freeze followed by 6 weeks of nice weather. The lack of flowers sends bees out looking for weak hives. When they find one, they over power it, and literally suck up all the honey and carry it off to their hive. It takes just a day to do that and what you are left with is ripped open honey cells and the dead carcasses of the bees who tried to save the hive. Ultimately when it's obvious they are overpowered the remaining bees join in with their captors and live with them. How do I stop that? This year my hives are going to all have robbing screens on them from day one. A robbing screen is a screen that goes over the front of the hive. It allows the smell of honey to escape so robbing bees are attracted to that like they are to the opening of a hive. But the difference is they cant get in. Their instincts tell them to follow the scent of the honey so they cluster on the screen wondering why they cannot get in. The bees in the hive however have learned that need to enter the hive from an opening in the top of the screen. So they go merrily about their business while the robbing bees sit on the screen. Should a robber find the opening to the hive, the guard bees will quickly either escort the bee out or kill it. Either way, robbing works by a mass number of robbing bees overtaking the guard bees and then robbing the hive. Without a mass attack, the hive can protect itself. Second I have to get diligent about mites. Mites are tricky. They get into your hive both by jumping off a bee on a flower and jumping on the next bee that stops at that flower and by what we call bee drift. Bee drift is when a bee mistakes a hive for hers and she comes in. Most folks think well she'll be stopped by the guard bees and that's a big maybe. Why because bees are a lot like us. If you have a neighbor you don't really like but he stops by with a cold case of beer on a hot day when you're especially thirsty, you'll probably let him in. Bees are no different, if a bee loaded up with nectar comes into a hive that is not hers, they bees will let her in to drop off her nectar, sometimes they'll even give a lost or tired bee from another hive a little nectar pick me up. They are very social, and they often feed each other from their proboscis. So if that visiting bee had a mite and it jumps off in the hive, that one mite in the hive that will become 3 to 8 mites in about 8 days. If that visiting bee had a disease, that mouth to mouth feeding just spread it to the bee that fed it. Those robbing screens will help stop bee drift, but not the mites that jump on the bees from flowers. How do you control mites? First by monitoring every two weeks. You test your bees by taking out a 1/2 cup of bees in a jar with 1/8 hardware cloth across the top. Next you coat them with powdered sugar which makes mites lose their grip on the bees. Then you shake the bees against the hardware cloth so the mites all out. Then you count the mites and pour out all the little white bees into the hive where their fellow bees will lick all the sugar off them. You want to stay at or below 3% infestation. However, really you want as few as possible. You wouldn't tolerate just having 3 mice in your house, or three cockroaches, so like that you have to always work toward zero. There are non chemical treatments and chemical treatments for mites. Powdered sugar sprinkled in the hives helps knock off the mites who then fall out of the hive through the screen bottom board. Using green drone comb is another. This is an interesting and very effective way to kill developing mites. Drones are larger and take 3 extra days to hatch. Mites lay their eggs an developing bee larvae. Somehow they know that drone larvae are better to lay their eggs on so they prefer to jump in drone cells just before they are capped over. Then in the cell they lay 3-6 eggs that hatch and when the drone comes out so do 3-8 mites, some already attached and feeding from the fat stores in the new drone. To stop that process you put on frame of drone comb in the hive. the foundation which has been imprinted with larger cell foundations is drawn out by the bees and it's bigger. When the queen comes to that frame to lay eggs she notices the difference and puts unfertilized eggs in those cells which become drones. The mites as I said are drawn to the comb as well. When the comb is 75% sealed over, the frame of drone larvae and the the mites on them are put in the freezer for 2 days. The drones, which are not necessary for the operation of the hive are sacrificed as are hundreds, maybe thousands of mites. The comb you took out is replaced with another frame of drone comb and when that one is 75% capped over again you freeze that one. The one you froze the first time is put back in the hives where the bees will open up the cells and remove the dead drones and prepare the comb to be laid in again. There are other ways to control mites, but I could write about them for pages. Finally with 4 hives I will have enough bees to try again to raise my own queens. Having a nucleus hive or two with a spare queen will alleviate the problem I had when the Gumbees lost their queen late in the season. If I'm successful I'm make sure that nucleus hive will also have a robbing screen on it! Hope springs eternal, and as we get closer to the end of April, I'm excited to start some new hives and enjoy working with my cute little bees. Some of you are thinking, bees aren't cute , but I disagree and I'll point out that scientists have proven that bee brains can imprint human faces, even under a bee veil. Which is likely why when I work my bees they rarely get angry. They've learned that big guy poking about isn't going to hurt them. They might also realize I feed them, but who knows? What I do know is I've never had a hobby that I love as much as beekeeping, and I've never had a hobby that helps the earth as much or more than it does me.
By Pat Daddy 20 Dec, 2023
Last year one of my most commented-on blogs was one I did on having some levity going into the holidays. I thought I would give another attempt at some holiday levity this year. This year I wanted to talk about when we take things out of context and how many times the double entendre version of something taken out of context can be extremely funny. While this first story doesn't have a double entendre, I will always think back to probably 25 years ago when my parents were alive and living in Lafayette CO. They were in a rental house with a large yard that afforded my Mom to have a large garden that backed up to the alley. In those days my mom worked at the local Albertson’s deli and she would leave early in the morning for work, but before she did she would turn on the sprinkler in her garden. One day she returned home to my father who was rather distraught . As they talked he discussed that the neighborhood was a buzz because a murdered man's body was found directly behind their house in the alley against the fence that separated my mom's garden from the alley. As my mom listened to this story all of a sudden she blurted out “Oh my gosh I must have watered him!” That was one of my mom's many funny mis-statements. One that still makes me laugh was when we had the candy store in the mall in Fort Collins in the 1980’s. We would see most of the managers from Montgomery Wards during their break times as they would come to our shop for coffee. One Valentine's Day, Bob, a constant customer of ours came in and he had a heart pin on his lapel. My mom looked at him and said “Oh Bob I see you have a little heart on.” When she heard what came out of her mouth my mother promptly found something to do in the back of the shop until breaktime for the Wards employees was over. When I was big game hunting with the boys and Hayden’s father-in-law Ken, Ken said something that I realized you couldn't say in any other context and make any sense of it. Ken, is a big believer in using animal scents, especially doe deer and cow elk urine as an attractant when hunting big game. As we would leave to hunt most mornings one of Ken’s parting questions, to make sure everyone had what they need, was to call out “Does anyone need any piss this morning?” As the Christmas Holiday approaches, MLW makes her repertoire of holiday cookies, one of which is rum balls. Which technically are bourbon balls as we like the taste better than using rum. The other day she was making her cookies and at 9 am proudly proclaimed “ I finished another bottle of bourbon!” Not something I usually hear from my wife at 9 am, but I wish a neighbor had! And Finally the last one was said the other night at a white elephant party. My friend, whom I wont name, was deciding during his turn if he was going to steal a gift or unwrap another . Smooch who opened a large summer sausage that is sold under the name “Yard O’ Beef” and wanted to get rid of it, said to him: “are you sure you don’t need a Yard O’ Beef?” To which my friend replied “I don’t think my colon could handle a yard of beef.” I wish I could tell you I left that alone, but no. With that I wish you all a happy holiday and for the ability to pick up the double entrée’s, the ridiculous statements and the absurd this holiday season, and laugh all the way through the holiday.
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