And ruined comb are draining in two huge dishpans and a mixing bowl in the kitchen. The three foot tall extractor is still waiting for me to disembowel and clean. Honey that dripped from the cappings (The prized fine wax that bees use to seal the honey into the comb) is waiting to be jarred. So, I have barricaded myself in my office in an attempt to feign a life of leisure. Unfortunately, the plan is not working. I cannot seem to forget. Yet I can't seem to find the motivation to tackle the messy business.
The days after harvest are the worst part of beekeeping. Moving the heavy honey supers, turning the extractor handle, sterilizing umpteen million jars, and honey dripping everywhere on the first day is hard and messy work, but the leftovers are always more annoying. Sure we could just toss everything in the garbage, but the waste would worry me more than the mess of extracting the last of the honey and saving the cappings and fresh, but not perfect comb. Time to let gravity pull the last of the honey from the wax means a cluttered kitchen (which is usual for me) and a messy job hanging in the queue. Once the honey is finished draining and jarred, the wax will be cleaned of bee parts and stored until I make candles, which won't be done until I get finished storing all of the precariously close to spoiling tomatoes that are covering all of the other surfaces of my kitchen.
Which leads me to the all important question, "Why have I barricaded myself in my office when there is so much to be done?" Fellow procrastinator to whom I loaned the book about overcoming procrastination that my mother loaned to me, if you could put returning the book on your To Do List, I would appreciate it. I am in dire need of a refresher course.