sorghumco's blog

This is certainly a crazy spring – all over the midwest (& perhaps elsewhere) – mainly that the “normal” weather of March & April were reversed. I kept thinking that I wanted the weather in March to cool down and then in April, I wanted it warmer. So what’s the big deal? It will all even out in the end, right?

Maybe. Some of the ways it is affecting us:

* our fruit trees flowered about a month earlier than usual; at blossom time, we all worried that frost would get all/most of the fruit. It did and didn’t. Frost killed off some of the fruit – notably the saskatoon berries, and some of the pears, but it does not appear to have hurt the rest of our orchard: peaches, cherries, apples. My friend Dan Kelly who has a 5 acre apple orchard reported that the apples on the lower third of his orchard froze – but that’s ok, because otherwise he might have had too much fruit to deal with anyway (abundance can be a hardship). BUT we are still wondering – how will this turn out? will we be harvesting fruit a month earlier? or?

My posts have been scarce – writer’s blah? winter hibernation?

To summarize: we had a decent crop harvest last year – mostly because we had another unexpectedly warm fall. In fact, we had an average harvest of the sorghum, black & pinto beans (for our own consumption0, as well as buckwheat – for cover crop seed (& bee forage).

Today – Mar 15 – we are clearly in transition to spring – although it is early by the calendar. We have had several days over 70 and it’s supposed to stay that way for the next week. We had a very mild winter – results:

- less ice hockey and cross country skiing

- better for the bees; so far, we have lost only 2 hives (out of 21). This is not entirely due to mild winter, cold weather by itself does not kill honey bee colonies, but it does add stress.

- maple: because of the mild winter, some folks were speculating that the maple sap might not flow this year – but we had an average yield this season – even though it ended about 2 weeks earlier than usual.

Now the grass is GREEN again and the buds on the fruit trees are swelling. The first fruit tree blossoms (apricots) opened up today. We are pruning fruit trees, wrapping up forestry/firewood, and the gardeners have lots of seedlings planted in flats

AND the bees are bringing in bright yellow pollen – they are so excited! I love to share their enthusiasm. We went to visit the bees again today (3/15): some of them are very strong/exuberant, others are quite small and just getting going again after the winter. At this time of year, the bottom line is they are alive! & surviving! We made sure that all hives had laying queens and plenty of pollen and honey. Bees are definitely my favorite nonhuman friends….

Looking back over my posts, I detect a complaining tone – about how weather has a negative impact on our crops. But hey, that is only half of the story: after all, weather is also responsible for us having any kind of crop. Further, I like to be appreciative of good times. This is one of those times.

The heading of this post indicates “Another…”. I am referring to the fact that we had a wonderful fall last year. I reported rather dismal crop yields last year – BUT at least we had a crop; in large part due to having warm fall weather, that allowed the crops to mature – at least enough for a decent harvest.

This year we had another challenging spring; due to wet weather, we could not get our crops planted in a timely manner. So the crops were late and I wondered if they would mature (mostly the sorghum) before frost. I could not help projecting: we had a great fall last year – could it happen again this year, 2 years in a row?. Then, we had drought conditions in August: it stunted the beans and put the sorghum crop on hold (delaying maturing). However, we are now having another great fall – unseasonably warm weather. We are harvesting the sorghum before it is fully mature because it is very labor intensive: we now have a lot of visitor help as well as labor exchangers from our sister communities – Twin Oaks & Acorn in Virginia and East Wind in southern Missouri (and because we are already at the average date of the first killing frost).

At this time, we are about half way through the sorghum harvest (2 weeks into it), but I can tell already that we will have an “average” harvest – due to deliciously warm fall weather.

Thank you Gaia, nature spirits, & the Mysterious Ones for two consecutive glorious autumns!

My reference to windows in this context is a limited time period in the weather allowing for specific farm work; currently, I mean a break in the rainy weather – enough time for the soils to dry so that we can till and plant our field crops.

About 2 months ago, my post read A More Normal Spring – indicating that after 3 years of wet springs, we were having  normal spring weather – ie, the absence of small windows; that turned out to be premature. It is being another incredibly wet spring – with small windows.

In an average year (actually, I’m not sure there is such a thing anymore), all of our spring crops would be planted by now: sorghum, field corn, popcorn, corn for seed for SESE (Southern Exposure Seed Exchange), soybeans, pinto & black beans. Right now only about half of our sorghum crop is planted – and none of the others. Earlier this spring, we had windows when we could have planted these crops but it was too cool for us organic producers. A week ago, we had a 3 day window in which to work down the green manure crop & weeds, and plant. We transplanted/planted about half of our sorghum crop; we could have planted more, but the weather was once again cool and the green manure crop was not all dead yet – so we decided not to plant more. Was it the right choice?

FYI: for background of my/our experience with honey bees at Sandhill, see http://www.sandhillfarm.org/beekeeping1.php

In my experience as a farmer, it is with honey bees, that I am most humbled. A prime example is this post.

Here is what I wrote May 1:

My last post on bees – only 7 months ago – was very positive and optimistic. To recap, I was very encouraged/optimistic about our bees last fall. They appeared more vibrant and healthy than in many years. We fantasized about the year ahead: we would build up our colony numbers and have a normal honey harvest.

THEN – this winter, we lost more than half of our colonies (11 out of 20) and currently, several more are struggling for survival. How could this happen? I’ve been keeping bees for 30 years – how could I have totally misjudged this situation?

I don’t have an answer; naturally, I have theories/possible explanations:

1. It’s really the mite problem all over again: for about the last 20 years, the varroa mites have been the main challenge to honey bees in this country – they compromise the immune system of the bees, who are then susceptible to various opportunistic diseases.

2. It’s due to a new class of agricultural chemicals: systemic seed treatments; some beekeepers believe that a new class of systemic seed treatments (eg on corn and other crops) have a devastating effect on honey bees. How so? The theory is that the systemic nature of the seed treatments expresses itself in the entire plant including the pollen – which is collected by bees to feed their brood. The effect of this pollen compromises the development of the immune system and health of the bees. Further, the effect  may not be noted for 6 months or more since the pollen is stored in the hive until it is needed – which may not be until the following spring.

For me, acknowledging what I don’t know is as important as what I think I do know. I am now 65 and except for a 10 year hiatus in/with academia, have been involved in agriculture all my life. For the last 15 years I have also been an organic inspector, which has brought me into contact with many organic farmers and processors of organic foods.

I figger I am now officially a senior – even though retirement is not in any of my plans. In one of my paradigms, my senior status indicates that I am now an “elder” – with connotations of experience & wisdom. Some days I relate to both those terms. This post is about times when I don’t.

I have been sharing this experience recently with my friend Dan, who has a 500 tree apple orchard. Although Dan is about a decade younger, we both note that the longer we live, the less we know for sure. Here is the crux: after decades of experience – when we thought we would be experts in our field, we find there are very few things that are always true.

So what’s the problem? First off, we appreciate how much we do know: we no longer have the angst of being new to the basics: soil fertility, plant growth, etc; but even those are incredibly complicated and what seems obvious one year is totally contraindicated the next (or several years later). It doesn’t seem fair: really, I was paying attention to the weather, the health of the plants/crops, and nurtured them the best I could – yet the outcome was totally different; eg, usually, the sorghum we grow from transplants is healthier and more productive than the ones we direct seed in the field, but in 2010 – it was exactly the opposite. So what is the lesson here? That really I don’t know – after all? Humbleness? OK, I got it.

Another prime example is my experience with honey bees – see next post (forthcoming).

In the agricultural life, every season is special & unique. Spring is a time of new beginnings – nature wakes up from resting during the winter and we humans get excited by swelling buds on the trees, new shoots of grass, crocuses flowering, etc.(at Sandhill, it heralds the beginning of the maple sap season – usually mid February),

It’s amazing how easily we take the seasons for granted – it’s simply the natural flow of life. However, the last three years we have had incredibly wet springs with below normal temperatures – making it very challenging to get crops planted in the fields and even in our gardens. I noted that last year, it was hard to be excited by spring – the constant waiting became depressing. In short, spring was mostly not joyous.

This year we are having a more normal spring: average temperatures and rainfall which means that so far we have been planting crops in a timely fashion. It is still too early to be planting most of our field crops but we are on schedule in planting the vegetable crops. This year we started a new venture – planting produce to sell on a larger scale and that planting is in the normal range. Our peach, cherry, and pear trees are in full bloom; the apricots are finished, and the apples are just beginning.

t is noteworthy how uplifting I find this situation. Perhaps I had not fully realized how much the cold/wet springs had affected me – although I do remember us talking about it last year. In my role as an organic inspector, I had also noted that I had never seen organic farmers more depressed about the weather preventing them from timely planting of annual crops.

I note that this is still early in the season – hopefully, I am not jinxing us by writing about it; in fact yesterday & today it is rainy and cold.

BUT – at this time, we feel uplifted by having a “normal” spring. I am not taking it for granted – I am celebrating and once again, joyous for this season!

I blogged about my Vipassana experience 2 years ago – this is an update.

For the first year I meditate for about 30 to 45 minutes daily – in the morning (it is the only time I can meditate – after that, the inner dialog is too distracting). Gradually I skip some mornings  and meditate for shorter periods of time: I am wondering if my practice will peter out and die? Then, last summer I am going through some health challenges – GI issues. It occurs to me that in my meditation practice (which includes a body scan to feel the energy in various parts of the body), I should be able to detect where/what the problem in my GI tract is. With this as a focus during my meditation, I sense that my colon is blocked in a particular place. I massage the area – which feels good but does not alleviate the symptoms. My doctor is recommending a colonoscopy; I decide to go ahead with it and indeed, he finds an obstruction. To explore the nature of the obstruction, a MRI is recommended – I go ahead with it and the MRI confirms it: the guess is that my colon is twisted or otherwise blocked. Is it the same area I identified during my meditation? It’s not conclusive, but my gut (ha!) feeling is that I identified the area/obstruction correctly; however, I am now on the western medicine tract and a barium enema is next. Surprisingly, it indicates no obstructions – now the guess is that the enema straightened out the obstruction. My GI tract improves – although very slowly.

This is where it all comes together – right? Nope, it’ a work in progress – or I could say that my spiritual practice is constantly evolving. Some concluding thoughts:

I am as eclectic as ever. I am in awe of all the life forms and spirits that contribute to agriculture (& life) on our farm. I wish I could more actively communicate with the plants and spirits – mostly, I try to listen. When the weather feels unfriendly, it is challenging. I find it difficult to feel in synch with spirit when instead of experiencing abundance from nature, we have to fight for what we get.

Spirituality: when I came to the communities movement in the late 1970s, the word “spiritual” was not a welcome word. We were still rebelling against religion and to us, spiritual described groups that had an exalted or charismatic leader (eg ashrams). We were egalitarian and distrusted leaders of any kind; however, I have always been drawn to spiritual experiences – I gradually reclaimed that word for myself and declared myself to be spiritual – but not religious.

Wu-wu – a word/concept some folks use to refer to some of the ideas I am expressing here. In my experience, people use it to refer to: the spirit/non physical world, issues they feel uncomfortable with and/or can’t be proved. It is often used dismissively as in “that’s too wuwu for me”. I am actually proud of my wuwu-ness. Simply put, I’d rather not limit myself to the physical realm – some of my greatest experiences are in the wuwu field. I welcome more wuwu in my life.

With reference to where I started this topic: re spirit in agriculture or spirits out there –  I note that currently most of my activity relates to spirit/energy in farming – I am less active in trying to contact nature spirits.

At Sandhill, I keep searching for my path. I yearn to create my own way of interacting with spirit – but the models I know about are from traditional societies, they are not from my culture. People in my circle here are in tune with there being spirit/energies in agriculture – often expressed as: please have good thoughts and vibes when working in the garden and no tobacco smoking around our food. We put positive energy into growing our food, preserving it, cooking & eating it. We hold hands in a circle before dinner to appreciate/celebrate the energy that went into the food that we are about to eat.

I work mostly with field crops – using a tractor and equipment – on a very small scale; we grow our own grains, beans, and some crops to sell – eg sorghum. I take to heart the old adage: “the best fertilizer is the footprint of the farmer” which I take to mean being in touch with the soil and plants. It is easy to relate to putting good energy into growing crops – but what about nature spirits taking care of plants? I believe they are there – but how to communicate?

My searching leads me to an Acres conference, where non physical energies in farming are generally acknowledged – but how do they work? How to augment/increase the positive energy? I recall one presenter at the conference describing his experience of communicating via non physical channels – it inspires me to try something similar. While planting that year’s sorghum crop, I concentrate really hard on sending my positive vibes into the seeds as they go into the ground. When I finish the field, I realize that the mechanism on one of the two row planter was plugged – no seeds were actually planted in that row. I ended up replanting most of the field; the lesson I take from this is that good vibes (no matter how strong) do not replace common sense and keeping machinery functioning properly.

I spend the next 9 years in academia and left wing politics; gradually, I grow tired of all the head/mental stuff – not enough physical, heart, and/or spirit. I’m also in a small radical action group: again, it’s all head. Two of us in the group decide to experiment with trying to live our politics/values in daily life – we leave academia to establish a commune – in Guatemala.  There I read The Magic of Findhorn and it blows my paradigm apart: what? nature spirits taking care of trees, plants, etc? My African memories come back – I remember how folks communed with spirits constantly.

Here in the rainforest of Guatemala, I live in the midst of trees: I talk to them and hug them. I try to feel the presence of nature spirits and sometimes I do – how to describe it? a sense of an other, a sacredness. Then I realize that I’m going through a paradigm shift:  I feel fundamentally different about the natural world – it is so much more complex than I ever imagined. There are all these physical life forms: bacteria & fungi, earthworms, mammals, etc. and then the spirits. How do they interact? What is my place in all this?

I read about paganism: how we humans have interacted with the spirit world through the ages and in various cultures. I now see fairies in a new light – perhaps they are real after all; and I remember the shamans in Africa – the intermediaries between humans and spirits. And I remember that FEELING – that in some way I was connecting to my primal roots.

So how do I manifest this new way of seeing the world? I now believe in spirits – so what? What has changed? I want some physical manifestation of how I am different. I vacillate: some days I feel it’s all in my head; at other times, I’m blissed out by my new understanding of reality.

Part 1

By spirit I refer to the non physical: thoughts, prayers, forces, energies, etc – but is spirit inside or outside? singular or plural? To illustrate: does spirit refer to: A) life force/energy in nature – eg Gaia (the notion that the earth is a living organism); and/or B) individual spirits – eg fairies and/or spirits that take care of trees, plants, rivers, etc? In my world, folks generally readily agree to A, but there is a wide divergence with reference to B.

A further clarification: there are different agricultural paradigms. The conventional one is the NPK approach (nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium), characterized by: an analysis of what nutrients a crop requires for optimal production, a soil test of what is already there, and then one can make up the difference with fertility inputs. It is a mechanistic/industrial model: inputs & outputs. In the sustainable/organic paradigm, agriculture is seen as a complex interaction among humans and various life forms – both physical and non. With reference to the above, this paradigm generally includes A – but not B.

I note that I am hesitant writing about spirit/spirituality (I’ve been working on this post for weeks – and have ambivalent feelings). I finally decide to write not analytically – but rather to share my experience with this topic. Here goes…

I grow up on a farm in a Mennonite community in Canada. In my Mennonite history class in high school, we are taught that our people have been and are innovative farmers – but there is no instruction of agricultural principles or practices. There is definitely no mention of spirit (except for the Holy Spirit – in church). It seems we are expected to absorb how to farm by doing the work – we have “chores” to do from an early age.

I have been in charge of growing field crops on our farm for 30 years – I have learned a few things; however, one aspect that constantly eludes me is predicting crop yields during the growing season. This year confirmed that.

Our 2010 wheat crop was the poorest ever; not in quantity, but in quality. The wheat kernels (berries) were shrivelled up and light – they weighed 49.5 lb/bu (normal is 60 lb. I’d never heard of wheat below 55 lb.) So what does that matter – since we grow it all for ourselves (and our chickens)? Technically, it doesn’t – we still use it to bake bread, etc. But I can’t help but feel that it does not have the vigor and nutrition of more normal/heavier wheat. I decided to buy wheat seed to plant next year’s crop because I feel seed vigor is important; however, the chickens are not complaining and we planted a lot of it for green manure crops.

Another big surprise was our sorghum crop. It is our signature crop: our main cash crop and what we are known for in the area. We put a lot of energy into producing and selling it; a good crop strokes my ego and reassures us that we really are farmers. We began raising sorghum transplants about 15 years ago and since then plant about half of our annual crop (6 acres) with transplants and the rest is direct seeded. Usually, the transplants yield considerably more per acre than the direct seeded and have fewer weeds; consequently, I have often been tempted to transplant all of it.

This is a question I am asked often these days (& years…). For most of this summer, my answers were ambiguous: well, they seem to be alright, but they sure are not making much honey, they are swarming a lot; in general, they seem to be holding their own, but not really kicking butt, y’know what I mean?

Then a raised eyebrow and “any CCD?” (colony collapse disorder). No, no, I reassure them; fortunately, we have not had that scenario.

We currently have 20 hives (including 2 top bar hives). We harvested a little honey a few weeks ago: the second consecutive year of lowest ever honey harvest – average of 1.5 gallons of honey per hive (our average had been 5 gal/hive). Then I got worried: maybe we took too much honey and did not leave them enough for winter (that happened last year).

BUT – here it is Oct 2 and y’know what? Our bees are doing fantastic! Better than they have all year (maybe 2-3 years…): they have good brood & populations, energy in the hives is focused, and they are bringing in honey & pollen. It is being a beautiful fall: finally, some dry weather, comfortable temperatures, and lots of wildflowers (as well as our planted buckwheat). The change in the hives is remarkable.

My current theory: we have not done any of the “chemicals” for 10 years and now we are off all “treatments” – even organic ones. We are also not bringing in queens from the outside. I figger the bees are coming back to their equilibrium in this environment – which is a mixed one: there are conventional crops within their flying range – but not very many; however, some of the symptoms we saw this summer were eerily similar to effects of exposure to pesticides. Yikes! That’s scary.

AND – I am reading an AWESOME BOOK: I highly recommend it:

It has been a long time since I have posted – one of the reasons is that it is being another very challenging year. This was the third consecutive very wet spring with the most rain and heavy rains I have seen in my 30 years here. When we planted crops in the fields, the heavy rains washed away a lot of the seed. The seed that remained often rotted before it could grow. We planted some of our sorghum and black beans three times – now they are very late. They will need good fall weather to mature.

This kind of weather is particularly difficult for organic farmers. Conventional farmers often no-till their seeds into the ground: they have a custom applicator spray an herbicide on the field and then plant with a no-till drill/planter and it’s done! Organic farmers rely on tillage to destroy weeds or green manure crops in preparation for planting. This means we need the soil to dry out enough to properly till the soil and kill weeds before planting. This year whenever we could work the ground, it usually rained again before we could plant. In that small window, conventional farmers planted their crops. When we finally did plant crops, we often had a heavy deluge – which made for erosion and poor germination. Then we could not get in the field to rotary hoe and cultivate – to control weeds; sometimes, the weeds took over the crops. (I now wish I had taken photos of several of our crop plantings that were so poor that we destroyed them and replanted; at the time, I found it so depressing that I did not remember how helpful photos can be).

A day with Dee – 4/27/10

(Dee Lusby, a commercial beekeeper and founder of small cell movement – I wrote about her in my post on Organic Beekeeping Conference)

I realized that since I was already in AZ, I could spend a day with Dee in her bee yards – I call her & she agrees. I get to Dee’s farm near Amado AZ at 9 am; she and David (a beekeeper from Tucson, who has come out for the day as well) are already loading the truck. She gets me a bee suit and we are off. After 45 minutes of driving on desert roads (often only tracks) we arrive at the first yard. (Dee disputes my calling this area a desert – she says there is a lot of vegetation here. And really, there are wildflowers everywhere!).

Dee is very excited about the prospects for her bees this year: due to rain this winter -she is seeing more flowering plants now than since the 1980s. I am constantly asking her to identify various wildflowers. My favorite is the fairy duster (aptly named); Dee: “oh yeah, that blooms only about once every ten years.” According to David, this is the first time he’s seen it bloom. Dee muses: this is the kind of year we dream about – with all the wildflowers, the bees are building up fast and with the rain we are having, the flow is likely to go on all summer. I get to build my bee numbers back up AND get lots of honey – maybe 60 barrels this year! It’s the year to break even and then next year, actually, make a profit!

At the bee yard: this is the first visit of the season – very different from our system where from April, we visit our bees almost every week. In contrast, Dee visits her bees once in spring and then for honey harvest in July and again in the fall. She uses only deep (brood) boxes – no supers; the hives have 5 boxes each; in our system, we get our hives down to 2 or 3 boxes for the winter and then add boxes as they build up in the spring.

There are various reasons to burn fields on an organic/sustainable farm: primarily to burn weeds which are infested with disease or pests OR to encourage native grasses & forbs over introduced species. We have done both but this post is about the latter.

About 27 years ago, we decided to plant one of our pastures into native grass (big bluestem, Indian grass, & sideoats grama) – mostly to provide forage for our dairy cow(s) during the hot months of summer. We did not know anyone else in the area who had native grasses and when our local vet & conservation personnel found out about ours – they came out to observe it themselves.

Apparently, the native grass prairies depended on occasional fire/burning to maintain it: perhaps mostly natural (lightning) or set intentionally by the native people living here.

In our case, we have only one pasture field in native grass – and we burn it irregularly:  every 2-5 years, depending on the season and/or our energy.

HISTORY

The vision behind the founding of Sandhill Farm was to move toward self sufficiency – a key component was to grow our own food. Keeping bees was an easy fit and so a year after taking over the farm (1974), Ann & Ed ordered bees and equipment from Sears. The hive did fine until the milk cow accidentally knocked over the hive. Eventually, the bees died. In the meantime, a beekeeper in the area asked to locate one of his apiaries (25 hives) on our land – we were thrilled to have bees in our environment.

1980

I get stung a few times driving by the hives with our farm equipment – I get the community to agree to request Desi to move his hives somewhere else. When I ask Desi (Cuban), he responds: “Oh no, can’t move bees in summer – zere are zousands & zousands of baby bees – they get lost. I make you good deal – you buy them.” Huh? interesting proposition: but wait, I’m getting stung – maybe it will be different if they are our bees? We decide to buy them and as Desi predicted, we make half of our investment back with the first year’s honey harvest.

One of the impulses to buy bees is that we were trying to find ways to support ourselves – to make a living off the land. We began making sorghum syrup in 1977 and were selling it at local fairs and on the farm. We soon note that when we’re at a table and have only one product to sell, – it limits the customers. With 2 products, we can potentially double our sales! (Since then, we have continued to increase the number of products we sell at our booth – sometimes, 10 different products).

Honey sales are good – it’s a profitable venture for us; having Desi as a mentor and consultant helps. He also supplies us with equipment and queens when we need them. In 1986, we purchase another 27 hives from him – this apiary is at a neighbor’s farm about 5 miles from us. Two years later, we purchase another 25 hives from Desi at another neighbor. We are rockin-n-rollin.

I reckon it’s traditional wisdom that  farmers/gardeners combine art and science in making decisions of what, how, and when to plant. I don’t usually think about it but that is certainly my experience. Now, I will try to articulate some of the underlying ways of how I experience it.

Art – a better word for what I mean in this context is intuition  (it seems cumbersome) and by science I mean facts and observable conditions at hand. Many of my decisions are based to some extent on intuition/a gut feeling. I’ve  noted that when I’m asked about our crop rotation or how I make daily farming decisions, I often find it difficult to articulate. It is easier to poin to a book or website (science) – but there are always other factors that are involved (art). My conclusion: picture a decision making process that has art/intuition and science/facts on opposite ends of the continuum (most of our decisions fall somewhere in between). To illustrate how I experience this dynamic, I will use the example of planting oats this spring – on March 31.

Oats is usually the first field crop we plant in the spring. In our part of the country (northern MO), traditional wisdom is to plant oats in March – if possible. Many years it is too wet at this time and so it is delayed. However, my experience is that the oats do better when I plant them in April. So why did we plant in March this year?

The last two years have been very wet here – planting at the appropriate time has been a challenge. Last winter was wet as well so I prepared myself for delayed planting. Then, in late March, the weather turned warm and dry and the soil in some fields was actually dry enough to plant; further, the forecast was for rain in a few days. We tilled the ground on 2 consecutive days (to destroy and incorporate the cover crop) and planted the next day. It rained that night and the next day. Perfect timing!

There were 44 of us at the Third Organic Beekeeping Conference in Oracle AZ March 5-7, 2010. These conferences were begun and organized by Dee Lusby, an organic beekeeper, a researcher (www.beesource.com) and an early proponent of organic = no treatment beekeeping. I’d discovered this movement 8 years ago, was fascinated, and implemented some of the management techniques; I quickly discovered it was more complicated than I’d expected. I had also wanted to attend one of the earlier conferences but AZ was far away. This time I was already in AZ for an advanced organic inspector training; further, I contacted Arthur Harvey of Maine to see if he was going. Arthur is an organic inspector and has one of the very few certified organic bee/honey operations in the country. Arthur informed that he’d been to the first 2 conferences and was not planning to go; however, if I went, he would come as well. He had been trying to get folks at the conference to enter discussions on establishing standards for organic beekeeping in the US.

March 5

Arthur & I attend the morning session at the Advanced Organic Inspector Training – it’s about Organic Apiculture, the first time it’s offered here (partially due to the USDA’s National Organic Program now in the process of formulating organic apiculture standards). After the session, we drive 2 hours north to the Organic Beekeeping Conference at a YMCA camp way out in the desert near Oracle AZ. I’m looking forward to meeting the legendary Dee Lusby.