A Good Deed?*

This entry, and the following dozen, are likely to be on the short side. 

The reason for this is that it is now the 2nd of July, and I have finally found a spare hour to attempt to bring The Journal up to date.**

So, the morning of Thursday, 18th June 2026 was taken up with a good deed. 

A few weeks ago I had offered Tai Chi Sue a lift in to Worcester to attend an eye clinic appointment. The appointment documentation suggested that driving home was not a good idea, hence the need for a lift. I therefore spent most of the morning with my head in a book outside an anonymous building, nestled amongst industrial units, in the vicinity of junction 6 of the M5.

My notes seem to suggest that I snoozed on the sofa after lunch, and then went up to the orchard to check on the bees.

The slumber session is hardly newsworthy as this tends to happen on most days. I do, however, recall checking on the bees.

I only looked at hives #4, #5 and #6. All were going along quite nicely, and supers were added. The supers were not for the storage of nectar, as very little seemed to be coming in at that time, but to provide space for the burgeoning colonies. I didn't check on hive #1, as it was still too early to check for a replacement queen. 

I do recall making a mental note to check hive #1 when we return from our narrowboating trip. I also recall that I had managed to totally mess up my colony inspection dates, and that it would be a long interval before I would be able to inspect them again.

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* I'm not certain if one is allowed to self-certify their actions as good deeds, hence the question mark.

** The key word in this sentence is "attempt." This should not be regarded as any form of commitment on my part to complete any, or all, of the missing Journal entries.

Post Script:

It seems that my gallant offer of a lift to Tai Chi Sue has caused a minor episode of jealousy in 30%. I need to stress that this was never my intention, but, in 30%'s wild imagination, Tai Chi Sue is some hot, man-eating widow, rather than a pleasant, elderly lady who hasn't made that many friends in the village.