I am deep in the throes of prepping for Travis Sorenson Day, which is a holiday John and I have created, and which maybe I've mentioned before, I don't remember. In short, we've declared a holiday in honor of one of John's childhood friends, because Travis has always remembered John's birthday ever since John moved to Utah, and John felt bad that he never reciprocated, so we decided that we would start celebrating Travis's birthday. That was long ago, in the halcyon days of 2008. We were so young then! Also we didn't have air conditioning, which was hard on our guests, since there was no way to escape from the oppressive heat of late May in Utah. How times have changed. For this year's festivities we're having pork tacos, which is what I'm busy with right now. We cleaned the patio off last weekend, and Grant spent six hours, literally, mowing the lawn. It's been so rainy that we haven't been able to mow and it was like the pampas of Argentina out there.
I still haven't dared to open my beehive and get the honey. All the other bee people are nagging me and prophesying dire events if I don't, but nuts to them.
I think maybe Sally and Minerva aren't actually pregnant? Surely they would have kidded by now. They aren't getting any fatter, and there are only two weeks left in the window of time to correspond with the buck being here. Strange. Maybe he was shooting blanks. Or maybe they saw what happened to Hazel and were like NOPE, REABSORBING NOW.