You can call me "honey buckets"

Spent yesterday dodging pissed off bees and licking my fingers.

The Farm team and half a dozen volunteers showed up at 8am Tuesday morning to rob our three hives-worth of bees of their delicious liquid gold.

I had been present about a month ago when an assessment was made of the hives, in preparation for extracting the honey, and the day ended with us hunkered down in the greenhouse, eventually making a mad dash for our escape vehicles. So I was more than relieved when the bees proved to be very docile.

Seeing the first full frame slide out of the hive and feeling the heft of it made the toil of the rest of the day totally worth it. The early morning sunlight filtering through the translucent combs . . . you get the picture.

here, take these while I figure out what I'm doing at the farm:

Abraham lived a hundred and seventy-five years.

"Then Abraham breathed his last and died at a good old age, an old man and full of years; and he was gathered to his people." - Genesis 25:8

While I was away in Charleston, Abraham the Tomato went from a promising shade of green to a beautiful, but fateful orange, as his vine withered away. Now it's entirely possible that this was his destined hue, as they were, from the outset, mystery tomatoes. It's sad, nonetheless, to see his vine pass on without bearing offspring as numerous as the stars in the sky. His partner, Sarah, is still clinging to life, but shows signs of an imminent orange transformation as well.

Hosers.

All of these men burnt the piss out of their skin-parts in the South Carolina sun. One of these men spent Friday night reading webcomics at www.harkavagrant.com. Funny jokes by a female, and Canadian to boot (what a-boot that, eh?)! Crazy, I know.

From sea to scalding sea.

Up and went to Charleston on Wednesday with JB & JP. Why not? Six hours straight to the sand and scorched skin.

I know the Carolina coast is fed by the gulf-stream, and therefore warm, but I wasn't prepared for the veritable hot tub of Sullivan's Island. We waded across 3 sandbars on our way out to sea, but were still only chest-high a quarter mile out.

Ultraviolet radiation made a fool of my hubris. I'll sport a mantle of red and dying skin cells for the next week.

Jeremy will too, even though he spent half of our sea-side escape applying sunscreen.

We wandered downtown Charleston Wednesday night, but didn't plan ahead and ended up walking the 2.5 miles back to the hostel after the trolleys stopped running. Cool town. Lots of character. Shame we were only there for a night.

In a freak instance of synchronicity, the other bed in our hostel room was occupied by a fellow Knoxvillian, with whom we shared common friends back home and some delicious tacos Thursday afternoon.

Got stung on the foot by a jellyfish Thursday morning, then got stung on the other foot by another jellyfish 30 mins later. One of our party (who shall remain nameless for dignity's sake) graciously bathed my assailed appendage in ammonia, to no discernible effect. Oh well.

But now, back to Knoxville, and back to work. Americorps orientation starts Monday, then 40 hours/wk the next Monday.

Summer is over. But Fall is pretty cool too.

Ok, I'm kinda proud of this.

So due to a lack of foresight on the Noise Temple's renovator's part, the light switch for my room is located on the opposite side of the room from the door. This has resulted in countless haphazard, toe-stubbing, blind journeys across the vast expanse of the room in the middle of the night.

So what does a reasonable person do? Why, build an elaborate (ok, not that elaborate) system of levers and pulleys allowing me to now control the incandescence of my bedroom from the entrance of the room, of course!

So it all starts at the inconveniently-placed light switch, with a taped-on clothespin for added leverage. Two strings allow the toggle to be pulled both up and down, independently.

Eye-hooks guide the strings up the wall, around the room, and over the fireplace/mantle, and then down to the hand-pulls.

Easy as that! Works like a charm.

And here's some oh-so-gorgeous hibiscus kombucha, carbonating itself to perfection. I sampled some while bottling it, and I have to say it was quite delicious.

Oh baby, things sure are cookin at the Noise Temple. You better get on down here and catch the fever.