Honey honey

Fort Green honey in the house! We bottled today. I was too sick to go to the extraction last week, so I was glad I got to this. In fact, it was a good learning day, since we used the fume board on the hives on the roof, too. Fume boards are laced with almond oil, which the bees loathe. It’s how you clear the bees from the super frames. This batch is dark and thick and delicious. D was stung above the eye, so we thought we’d call the honey, “Shut Eye.”

Earlier in the day, stirred up a woodcock in Green-Wood. And I stumbled across this weary angle:
Yesterday, went to see a friend play in a chess competition in Central Park. His first match was with a kid 40 years younger. Damn. I mean, you win, you’re a bully; you lose, you’re a chump. On the other hand, it is chess.… I don’t know anything about the game, but I can say: not all of the stereotypes are true. I mean, they weren’t all male, idiot savants, nerdlings extraordinaire, or little Chinese boys. My friend cleaned the little brat’s clock, btw. It was hot, and several of the brain-brawlers put their complementary t-shirt on their heads, which lead to this passerby’s comment: “They’re professionals: there’s towels on their heads.”

While in the park (did you ever notice how everybody seems like a European in there?) I wandered around a bit in the Ramble. I watched a male black-throated blue warbler for a bit. This is one handsome bird bird. Among other handsome birds was a living statue, or whatever you call them, this one a lass dressed as Maria Antoinette’s maid-in-waiting. She had the saddest expression I’ve ever seen; sure hope it was acting.