Rain's got me stuck in the workshop staining display crates for the fair jars — figured if I'm hauling these all the way to St. Paul they ought to look as good as what's inside them. Shirt came off about the second coat in. You appreciate a man who sweats the details?
Friday morning pump session before the fields wake up — got the whole gym to myself and I'm putting every rep where it counts. You like a man who earns his sweat before sunrise?
Jars are in and the window shuts today — nothing left but to stand here and let the gray morning do its thing. You ever just stand still and let the relief catch up?
Narrowed it down to these three and hit submit before I could second-guess myself again. Two weeks till the judges get their hands on them and there's nothing left to do but wait and wonder if I picked right. You ever put your best out there and just hope the world sees what you see?
Storm rolled through before I had my boots laced — whole field's dripping and so am I. Hives held up fine but I'm soaked to the bone and not quite ready to go inside and dry off yet. You ever get caught in one and just let it happen?
Registration for the Bee and Honey competition closes Thursday and I've got twelve jars that are good enough but only three that are good enough to win. Picking which ones make the cut feels like choosing between my own kids. You ever had to narrow something you love down to its best?
Got the ribs going low and slow and the only thing better than how they smell is knowing nobody's expecting me anywhere else tonight. You want a plate or you just here for the view?
Scrubbed the whole week off and now I'm deciding between a quiet beer on the porch or driving into the Cities for something less quiet. Which one are you hoping I pick?
Three weeks till the State Fair and I'm already out here obsessing over honey labels like they're going on a museum wall. The barn's still holding today's heat, so the shirt came off about six jars ago. You ever pour your whole heart into something most folks won't even notice?
That heat finally let go and the lake's giving me back the kind of morning I forgot existed — rod in hand, jeans half off, and not another soul for miles. Care to join me out here?