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Saturday, April 23, 2016, 9:02:39 PM- | ||
Success is stumbling from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm. — Winston Churchill | ||
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Tuesday, October 27, 2015, 5:16:14 PM- Bees ses | ||||
So i finally have my first lot of bees in the hive, and i have a hive lure sited next to a swarm, way up in an Oak, not sure i will be able to entice them out though, fingers crossed, tomorrow i will work my hive at home, i have to treat for Varro mite, pull all the frames and check for other such horrible diseases, honey stores and brood, which are littl bee cells. I will swap their feeder over and add more newly waxed frames to the hive, check to see if they are being sneaky and making queen cells and or drone cells, because i am very new to this my fantastic assistant will be taking millions of photos so i can look at things again when i dont have my hands full with thousands of bees. Woo and yes its fun | ||||
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Saturday, August 15, 2015, 3:48:07 AM- | ||||
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Friday, August 14, 2015, 2:40:17 AM- | ||||
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Monday, July 27, 2015, 10:33:18 PM- you know this is for you bahahaha | ||||
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Monday, June 22, 2015, 9:22:05 AM- because its pretty | ||||
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Tuesday, April 14, 2015, 3:23:52 AM- they see me rollin they hatin | ||||
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Monday, April 13, 2015, 6:55:46 AM- | ||
“A flower does not think of competing to the other flower next to it. It just blooms.” ~Sensei Ogui | ||
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Monday, April 13, 2015, 6:54:42 AM- | ||
“…the older I get, the more I see how women are described as having gone mad, when what they’ve actually become is knowledgeable and powerful and fucking furious.” — Sophie Heawood | ||
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Wednesday, April 1, 2015, 3:21:38 AM- | ||
“He whispered in my ear last night before we both drifted off that I needed to promise not to leave him. I don’t think I’ve ever packed that much passion into a string of words leaving my mouth, passing by my lips and into his ear like a virus; an infection that can only do good, that can only plant seeds in the middle of his chest where other people have only jerked out roots. He is windows open wide on a May morning. He is glass, he is a kaleidoscope that, when looked through, you can only see the good in this world. You can see him, and he is the good. He feels he’s a burden, space wasted, filling the openness of his shoes and feeling like he’s filling the Grand Canyon with worry. I want to be the house he runs to when he wants to feel at home. I want him to rest his legs inside of my veins, take a break from the world and listen to the rush of my blood; it is throbbing through my system with such force because I anticipate his touch even when he’s nowhere near. He is not an unfortunate soul. He is just beginning. And I want to begin with him.” — march 27th, 12:13 a.m. // Haley Hendrick | ||
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