Throw back Thursday...a little cuckoo

My grandfather passed away three years ago at the age of 92.  

When my father was in the service and dating my mother, he was stationed in Germany.

He brought two cuckoo clocks home with him.  One for his girl(my mom) 

and one for her parents(my dad was no dummy).

When my grandfather passed, we had the job of cleaning out his house.  We all got together at his house.  We relived old memories, it was very healing.  It was the house they raised their children in and welcomed grandchildren and great grandchildren to.

There were only a few things that I really wanted.  A bench, 

the cuckoo clock and Christmas decorations.

I felt like the clock was link to my Dad and my grandparents.  It isn't the fanciest of cuckoo clocks out there, but I just loved it.  I have always loved cuckoo clocks and I think a lot of it has to do with hearing the story about how my dad brought the clock home from Germany.

My mom had found a guy who tuned it up for my grandfather before he passed.  It was important for my mom that the clock work for him as she knew he was not long to be with us.  The clock man told my mom that the clock was missing a trim piece on the top.  He tried very hard to find the piece to put the clock back as it should be but couldn't find it. My grandfather couldn't remember whatever happened to the piece.

Three years later, this past October I was at our town's Octoberfest.  The historical society in town always has a barn sale.  Honestly there is usually just a bunch of junk but I like to try to support them and buy something.  This October, I hit the jackpot.

I saw this box and heart skipped a beat.

The clock was a mess.  Missing the little hand and all.

But it had the piece!

I bought the box for $20. I would have paid more.

How could it be that it was mid afternoon that this box was still there.

I truly believe there was a little Devine intervention

or at least my grandfather pushed me in the direction of the box and 

everyone else away from it.

I got it home, cleaned it up and then

the moment of truth.

It fit and everything is now as it should be.

It makes me so happy every time I walk by it.

I always make sure if we have a family gathering at my house

that the clock is wound.

Every 30 minutes there is a cuckoo to remind us that my

grandparents are still with us.

hope lost...the day my bee hive died.

Sometime between January 13th and February 1st my bees perished.  I called them the Delta Nu's like the little sorority of sisters they were.  The had kicked out the frat boys(drones) for the winter and hunkered down to try to make a go of it in this very cold New England winter.

The Delta Nu's had the deck stacked against them.  They superseded their original Queen in August.  RIP Queen Talulah and enter Queen Lucy.  Because they made their own queen and would not accept the Queen I tried to introduce (Queen Wilbanks) I had to wait them out and hope for the best.

Their numbers dropped but then Queen Lucy began laying eggs like gangbusters and the Delta Nu's seemed very happy.  I thought they might have a chance.

I didn't think they would make it through the polar vortex, but when they did I had new hope for their survival.

My son and I were excited to see the girls fly on Saturday as we were due for temps in the 40's.  When we saw no bees flying the first part of the day I knew something was wrong and this is what I found.

all dead, not an ounce of life left.

It was very sad, but it is nature and life. 

No guarantees.

The my hive was like the little hive that could until it couldn't.  

This has been a tough winter and I knew it would be a challenge for them to make it.

I have dusted my self and picked myself up.

I have ordered my packages of bees for the spring and will start a second hive too.

Hope springs eternal.