Are you familiar with that saying, some days you’re the dog and some days you’re the fire hydrant? That’s how I felt last Saturday. 

A friend and I had planned for a long time to extract honey from her hives. I haven’t gotten any from my hives this year, but she had, and I had an extractor.

For 40 years I’d stored that thing in my basement in its original box. I belonged to my dad. He’d planned to reestablish beehives when he moved to Kansas City. His plans were cut short because he died six weeks after he moved to the city. 

In anticipation of our extraction day, I’d hauled it out from the basement and power washed it inside and out. I drove over to Peculiar, MO and we set to work. My friend uncapped a couple of frames of honey and I began to crank. On about the third crank, the extractor quit!

My friend called an acquaintance who had a working extractor but he couldn’t get it to her until Saturday night. We loaded my broken one into the car and I drove home. 

I was so mad I drove to the bee store and bought the one pictured. It’s much sturdier and runs like a top. Now I’m ready for next year!