Make it easy to say yes.

Similar to my post about 'thank you' versus 'I'm sorry'...

When asking for things, I find it helpful to literally phrase the question in such a way as to make it easy for the person I'm asking to say yes.  That is to say, if I can do legwork ahead of time, find the reasons why it is a benefit to support my plan, how the money spent will actually save money in the long run, etc, then I feel like I have a better chance of persuading my reader to agree and accept my proposed solution as the default solution.  Of course, he/she can propose a counter-solution, which I welcome, but which also requires them to exert effort through research, time, energy.

An example: we have a new instructor teaching reading and writing this fall at ASC.  Kris, my awesome coworker, recently realized that no one probably has talked to her about what textbooks to order for the Fall.  Ordering textbooks can be a time consuming pain, especially the first time one teaches a class.  I suggested Kris email her with the following: "Hi Lillian, I'm about to order my textbooks for fall [insert titles/ISBNs] and was wondering if you would like me to order enough for your sections as well?"
What I love about this approach is that we are more likely to get the textbook order done quickly. Often decisions are delayed because they take a block of time to concentrate, or the decision maker doesn't know where to start, or it isn't his/her first priority.  Lillian will be traveling for the month of June. By giving her an already prepared default plan, an email to which she can simply reply "oh, thanks, that would be great!", we can get her books ordered and help her check that task off her to-do list, a task she hadn't even added to the list yet.

How can we solve other peoples' problems while solving our own? 

Bee update May 27, 2011

Friday evening I checked on the bees at KW Farms.  I was worried because I had called Trudi a few times to ask about the bees and she hadn't returned my calls.  I know farmers in May are very busy, so that was understandable that she wouldn't have a moment to make a phone call.  She did get a chance to call me Friday morning, but said she hadn't seen any bees on her new flowers that she planted.  I prepared myself for the worst, which is to say, I prepared myself to find an empty hive box.

A few minutes after Trudi's call, I received another call, this one from my doctor with results from some lab tests earlier in the week.  She wanted me to come in for more tests and transferred me to the scheduler.

How are these two phone calls related?  I will attempt to explain how my attitude towards these bees and towards my health are related.

But I'll contextualize it with yet another digression. 

Card making.  Two years ago, I started making greeting cards with my friend Ellen and some other ladies.  This hobby drives me crazy and yet teaches me patience.  I sit with these women, gluing bits of paper together, lining up stamps to be centered and straight.  And then I silently curse at myself when the bits of paper get crinkled, or the stamp is off-center and crooked.  I glare at my creation, thinking how a kindergartner might have done a better job.  Then we pass around examples of our work, and the ladies comment on the beautiful color combinations I chose, or the neat way I did X, which they had never seen before.

My point is that I have a tendency to focus on the negative first, to critically analyze, before appreciating the whole, or seeing the good parts of the big picture.

I did this behavior when I first opened the hive.  Here is what I saw:

So, yes, there are bees, but very few bees.  Damn, I thought.  They're dying.  They're weak.  Bothe Kretsinger, Trudi and John's son, was with me so I talked in a stream-of-consciousness way as we examined the hive.  (I may very well have talked to myself had I been alone, I'm not afraid to admit). As I talked through my anxiety, my fears, I started to realize a few things, started to observe the positive things going on in this hive.  For one, the bees were putting away some honey.  This is an excellent sign.  There are flowers from which they are foraging.  A second positive observation was that they were mellow, "queenright" as beekeepers say, meaning that they weren't freaking out/spazzy because the wasn't a laying queen sending out the right pheromones. 

Once I started to see the positives, I started thinking from a positive frame of reference.  I did some math.  Since I installed the bees on May 7th, no eggs could have been laid prior to that date.  It had only been 20 days, and worker bee gestation is about 21 days.  So, the very first bee eggs laid would just be hatching later this week, while the worker bees who navigated the swarm process would have had to have been older, fully mature-winged bees, meaning they were nearing the end of their life cycle, and starting to die.  It would make sense that there would be a window of time, this week specifically, when good things were happening in the hive (wax production, honey production, thousands of eggs being laid and tended to) with a general decrease in the overall number of bees and bee activity.

Bothe with the bees

As I drove off from the farm, I wept.  I was so happy to see these bees, so afraid that they were dead or dying, so focused on the negative that I forgot to look to the positive, to the things going well.  I worry too much.  I put too much emphasis on the success or failure of every hive, that it means *I* am a success or failure. And since I have this tendency to see the negative first, I forget about the successes of these three weeks of life, and instead focused on imminent death, the things I should have, might have, could have, done to make things better for the bees.

So, back to the test results. It's good that I see my doctor every year, that I take good care of myself.  It's good to have follow up tests, and do whatever will be necessary. These are the positives, from which I can base a positive frame of reference for whatever will come next. 

I have a lot of thoughts on my mind but no time to think them.

I have constant streams of information coming at me.  I follow 115 people on Twitter, about 300 Facebook friends and all their reposts, and four email accounts.  Several meetings per week for work, plus meetings with non-profits and community groups. I even try to read daily as well.  Unfortunately, I seem to have a lot of thoughts on my mind but apparently no time to think them.

This week's post is about making time to think and a few ways I have identified how to do just that.

Reflection time

One of the things I do is to coordinate the AmeriCorps service learning program at Adams State College.  An important principle of AmeriCorps' service model is Reflection; in fact, up to 20% of a member's term of service (60 hours of a 300 hour service project, for example) can be based on thinking about what one's service means, how it fits into one's life goals, how one feels about the service.

I've also read the first few chapters of Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way (I know, I should really finish it...) and am attached to the technique of Morning Pages. I schedule an hour every morning Monday-Friday from 8-9 am for writing during my office hour, and on Sundays I write a larger weekly summary.  In the week between Christmas and New Year, I read the journal(s) of the year and write a year summary.


Outoftimeness

There are some events in life that create "outoftimeness:" death, birth, real crisis. Real drama rather than synthetic drama.  A few months ago, my ex husband's father died of a heart attack. Within hours, all of the family members were together, including surprisingly, me.  Work would wait. There were no other obligations other than to be together, for each other.

Unstructured time

I'm getting better at building unstructured time into my life. Unstructured time is agenda-less time. Tuesday of last week, my dear friend Jamie and I planned an adventure that would probably involve hot springs and would definitely involve good food, a road trip, and lots of time to talk and be.

Vacation, change of venue, change of surroundings

Unstructured time can sometimes be a part of vacation time, when we're free to explore opportunities we normally cannot because we're always on our way somewhere.  Some times I overplan my vacation time, but some times I get it just right, and I get to meet new people and actually have time to sit and talk for hours, hear new stories, see new places.

Altered consciousness through sleep deprivation, alcohol, and/or other substances

Staying up late to get into that almost dream state, where reality is fuzzy around the edges, or where I cannot remember if it really happened or I dreamt it--that is awesomeness.  Synthesis of ideas occurs.

Driving/road tripping

Road hypnosis... with music or not, with another person or not, is a great way to hear my inner voice.

Ecstasy/pleasure

Physical pleasures, eating fantastic food or otherwise, are a way to stimulate the senses and directly get one's attention.  See also outoftimeness. It can be as simple as applying your favorite lip balm and closing your eyes for a moment during a busy day to savor a memory.

Sabbatical

The seventh year... please see this Ted.com video titled "Stefan Sagmeister: 7 rules for making more happiness."

Swarm call update 5/15/2011

I just keep learning more and more.

Friday, as I was getting ready to head to Trudi's to install another hive (ready to catch the next swarm), I got a call about some "ground bees" at the Disc Golf course off North River Road.  Here is what I found:

A bunch of holes in the ground with bees crawling in and out.  Um. Well, I don't know what to do with this situation.

After a review of some websites, I decided that they were miner bees, which are not honey bees.  They are still pollinators, though, so I'm thoughtful about rescuing/protecting them.  Just not sure yet how.

The websites suggested to bring a shovel.  I should shovel the dirt into a bucket and relocate them elsewhere, where people won't be disturbed by them and call an exterminator.  However, I'm concerned that disturbing them through digging would effectively kill the bees, too, so not sure if that is the best route.

I took photos and a troubled head from the location and am still figuring out what I should do, if anything, for the miner bees.  I'm eager for suggestions, anyone!

In other news, the bees at Trudi's are settling in and look good.  I tried to capture a photo of one's translucence--I could see the golden sunset through her thorax. Didn't get the photo to turn out like I wanted.


I also put out a swarm lure in the apple tree in my backyard.  If I catch a swarm, I'll bring it out to Trudi's.

First swarm call of the season!

Fairly established swarm at Claire and Smokey Barker's house in Mosca, CO. May 8th, 2010--almost a year to the day!  It is swarming season in the San Luis Valley.

Yesterday, as I was walking down Third Avenue, a car beeped at me and pulled over.  "You're a beekeeper, right?" Yes.  Yes, I am.  "We have a swarm.  What should we do?"

Now, some context.  Alamosa has an ordinance specifically forbidding bees in the city limits.  We also spray Malathion in the city limits for Mosquito control.  According to the EPA website, "Malathion is highly toxic to insects, including beneficial insects such as honeybees."

The driver explained that the bees were along a fence in a tree.  That they had been there all afternoon.  Didn't seem to be bothering anyone.

There were a few possible outcomes.  1) The bees would swarm again and find another temporary location.  I've gone on swarm calls where the bees had disappeared by the time I assembled my equipment and got to the scene.  2) They would still be there the following morning. In the cool pre-sunrise, they would be docile and clumped together to keep warm.  We agreed to touch base in the morning.

And a third option, that I don't want to think of as an option: He could have called an exterminator.  More on that later.

I woke before sunrise but waited until 6 am to call.  Yes, indeed, they were still there.  "I'll be right over."

I brought a cardboard box, my smoker, and my bee suit and veil (not this bee suit).  My plan was that I would set the box under the branch, give it a good shake, and all the bees would tumble into the box, which I would then fold closed, stick in the beemobile, and transport to KW Organic Farms north of Alamosa.

When I arrived I discovered it would not be a simple shake of a branch.  These bees were all wrapped around branches, wire fencing, and the neighbor's fence.  The neighbor's sprinkler system was also watering at the time.  In other words, not optimal conditions. I was not going to be able to simply set my box under the branch and shake.

Before...the swarm in a lilac bush at First and Ross.

I set to work.  I started with a brush, trying to sweep them into the box.  This had limited success.  A dozen bees or so would cling to the fibers of the brush, so then I would gently untangle them and drop them into the box.  I worked up my courage and decided to just reach my hand into the mass and pull out a handful of bees.  

It was still early morning cool, which in Alamosa in May means that I could see my breath, but did not wear a coat. The bees were amazingly calm. My hands scooped the bees, and the bees grasped to me and allowed me to drop them into my box.  Handful after handful.  They got a bit more agitated, perhaps because I was starting to bug out, so I decided to talk to them. 

I introduced myself. Some beekeepers believe that bees choose their keepers, so I wanted to tell them how excellent Trudi Kretsinger and John are, how much they care about their animals and their land, how they're interested in supernutrition and taking care of the soil. How they wanted to plant things that would be best for bees. "You'd really like them." 

I acknowledged that they didn't know me, but that I really believed moving to the Kretsinger farm would be better than staying in this tree and getting sprayed with Malathion. That is was probably upsetting to be grabbed and stuck in a box, but that this wonderful farm is in the shadow of Mount Blanca, that the only other place I could think that might be more desirable for a bee would be a lavender field in Provence in August, but that this was definitely a close second.

 I called Trudi.  "Sorry to call so early, but I have a box a bees!" She asked if I'd like to join them for breakfast.  I love her.  Yes, of course, breakfast.  I arrived and met Patrick, an agronomist, and John [seed consultant?] who were breakfasting with Trudy and John and talking about what to plant.

I walked in Trudi's house dressed like this, and she said I looked "sexy."

After homemade cinnamon rolls and strong coffee, Trudi and I headed to the fields to find a nice place for the girls, along the way seeing coyotes and baby owls (not at the same time).  We decided on a place under some Russian Olive trees, near water and easily accessible by the beemobile.

After...at the Krestinger Organic Farm

I'll check back in a few days to see how they're doing.  It is quite possible they will swarm again in the next day or so.  Trudi, John and I discussed next steps...we should order some more hive equipment in the event there are more bees to be rescued and relocated.  I want to explore the possibility of Top Bar Hives. I should write an article for the Valley Courier about Bee Swarm rescue versus extermination.  

I also called the local pest control to let them know I'd be happy to give a first shot at rescuing honey bees when they get calls.  I should also call the local police departments, sheriffs office, parks and recreation, and Co-op to let them know I'm available for bee rescue/extraction.

Here to make friends

So why did I title this blog "Here to make friends"?

I saw the phrase on a t-shirt in a blog post here and here. And then Austin Kleon quoted Vonnegut: 'Kurt Vonnegut said it best: “There’s only one rule I know of: goddamn it, you’ve got to be kind.”'

Small town.  Small world.  We're all connected.  We're all in this together.  Local food.  Local Economies.  Eat local honey and pollen to help your immune system and to deal with allergies.

"Here to make friends" seems like a good approach to new situations.  I find that I dread networking at conferences, for example, but if I walk into the room thinking to myself, well, I'm here to make friends, maybe I can get through the event.

I'm here now.  :)