Ricard Farms

08/13/2026

Releasing the leafcutter bees this spring didn’t exactly go off without a hitch. Wet fields, mosquitoes, scorching days under the hot Saskatchewan sun... nothing that a dependable tractor, copious amounts of bug spray, a good pair of boots, AND an A-Team (NOT a B-Team) of bee specialists couldn’t handle.

Our bees obey no queen—there are only males and females. And, naturally, the females do all the hard work. 😂 They “trip” the alfalfa flowers, then head back to their nests to lay their eggs, meticulously building little leafy homes for their offspring.

Don’t get me wrong, the males have their own small but very important part to play. 😊

From the moment that first bee box is placed in the first hut and that screen is pulled, it’s like the starting gun at a race—BOOM!

Another B-Season has officially begun—thousands of bees released into our alfalfa fields to live their best lives under the Saskatchewan skies.

And, like most females, once unleashed... there’s no stopping them. 🐝😂

08/05/2026

🍺🐝 The "B" Summer of 2026... 🐻🔧

This summer will go down in Ricard Farm history as The Year of the "Bs"—and I'm not talking about the bees.

I'm usually pretty good at being a glass-half-full kind of person, but this farming season I've found myself wanting to drink that half-full glass... then smash the empty glass at a bee hut.

With sweat pouring off me under the blazing Saskatchewan sun while working in our fields, I've found my mind flashing back to 2022, when I retired from that damn power plant.

"You're retiring?!" someone asked. "What are you going to do?"

Well...

Lately, it hasn't been writing. ✍️❌

And I definitely haven't had much of a social life either. 👋❌

In fact, if you haven't heard from us in a while, we haven't disappeared—we've just been knee-deep in alfalfa fields dealing with the latest "B" challenge. 🌱🚜

It all started with a record-breaking, soaking-wet spring. I'm talking downpours that turned our fields into that legendary Etomami-style clay—thick enough to lose a boot in—delaying our fieldwork. That pushed our bee release back by weeks—not days—and forced us to use our Rangers and Tractors instead of our flatbed trucks. 🌧️🚜

Then came the BUGS. 🐛

And I'm not just talking about those pesky mosquitoes.

I'm referring to those alfalfa flower-eating superworms... with no guarantee that the jaw-droppingly expensive spray we bought would even get them all.

Then bring on the BEARS. 🐻

Quite happily snacking their way through our bees, plowing through a few huts, and somehow outsmarting our strategically placed bear pads.

THEN Mother Nature looked around and said, "Hold my beer." 🍺

She threw a summer storm at us that snapped trees—including one that narrowly missed the farmhouse. Which was followed by three days without power in 30-plus-degree weather.

When the air conditioning finally came back on, we headed back to the fields to find bee huts tossed around, bee boxes scattered everywhere, and a couple of huts that had apparently decided they'd rather live in the bush.

And just when we thought we were finally getting back on track...

BREAKDOWNS. 🔧

Every.
Single.
Thing.
We.
Owned.

Unfortunately, my ongoing curse with our lawn mowers rubbed off on Gene during those rare moments we actually crossed paths long enough to say hello. 😂

If it had wheels...
If it had an engine...
If it had moving parts...

It broke.

Lawn mowers.
Trucks.
Tires.
Rangers.
The sprayer.
The semi.

If it could break...

It did. 🤦‍♀️

Finally, there came a calm moment for us to take a collective deep breath in...

Together, we've managed to tackle each challenge head on—with more than a little help from some pretty amazing friends along the way. ❤️

So…for right now, I'm going to lift that half-full glass instead of throwing it, because our greatest blessings are still intact.

❤️ We're all here.
❤️ We're safe.

Here's to trudging through The Year of the "Bs"...

🐛 Bugs.
🐻 Bears.
🔧 Breakdowns.

And as for the Summer of 2026...

It can kiss my "A." 😉

🍻 Cheers!

07/06/2026

🚁🌾 So, between strapping nests, cutting grass, and getting the bees out... my son is learning to fly his drone.

When Jarrit called me over to his computer to show me the footage he'd captured of one of our fields, I saw something he didn't.

He was so focused on the shots he'd taken that he completely missed what caught his mother's eye... so what does this proud mama do? 🤔

First, I ask him to send me the footage. 📩 Then I set my writing aside and spend the next couple of hours putting together this short video—not to showcase his drone, but to showcase him. ❤️😂

Because sometimes our kids don't realize what we see... and every now and then they deserve the chance to see themselves through their mother's eyes. 🥰

This one's for you, Jarrit! ❤️🚜

06/15/2026

🌾 Ricard Farms is Hiring! 🐝

Ricard Farms Ltd. (RFL) is looking to hire local youth in and around Estevan for casual laborers over the next few weeks with casual (and flexible) hours to meet seasonal deadlines.

Duties will include:
🐝 Strapping bee nests
🧹 General shop housekeeping and yard cleanup
🌾 Other general duties as needed

If you're interested in gaining hands-on agricultural experience, earning some extra pocket money, and adding "Junior Bee Specialist" to your résumé, we'd love to hear from you!

Qualifications:
✅ Trustworthy and reliable
✅ Able to work independently
✅ Valid driver's license and vehicle preferred but not required,

📧 To apply, please email: [email protected]

Feel free to share this post with anyone who may be interested!

https://www.facebook.com/reel/670860495703737

04/30/2026

Throughout the year, I often argue with myself: this is the most stressful cycle of our bee farming operation… and somehow, every time, I change my mind. 🐝

Because when I’m neck (NOT knee)-deep in…

• The prep cycle, when fields are sprayed or burned down to black, and we sprint like coordinators of chaos—placing huts, then tarping them… usually on partially frozen ground. 🥶
• The production cycle, when those skeletal huts finally stand tall, fully dressed with clean nests, and the bees are living their best lives under that hazy, hot Saskatchewan sun… while we stand guard against bears 🐻, birds 🐦, and every other sneaky critter with bad intentions. 🌾
• The wrap-it-up cycle, where the fall forecast plays roulette (snow, rain, snow… maybe sun if we’re lucky 🌦️), while we untarp huts, haul heavy nests, strip them bare, and “lovingly” punch them out before tucking them in for their winter rest. ❄️
• The inventory cycle, which should be easy—because the bees are asleep… except now it’s strapping nests, fixing equipment, and discovering everything that quietly (and impressively) broke during harvest. 🔧
• The shipping cycle, carefully counting bees, logging them on a sheet, then packaging them like VIP passengers before hauling 3–5 loads nearly 5,000 miles south… questioning every turn—and our life choices—while driving through every road condition imaginable. 🚛

Then…
Between each cycle:

Catch a nap. 😴
Take a deep breath.
Roll up our sleeves. 💪
And head into the next cycle to get ’er done—all over again.

And—after all that muttering and bickering to myself—I still circle back to the same conclusion.

It’s every. single. one. 🐝

04/21/2026

https://ridefordad.akaraisin.com/ui/rfd2026/participant/9599636

Support My Journey I recently accepted the challenge to participate in this incredible ride, and I invite you to join me in supporting a cause that touches the