Ricard Farms

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

01/30/2026

The 2026 bee convention this past week was all about the journey — in my opinion. 😉

Travelling over 3000 kms with Ricard Farm’s Senior Bee Specialist (33 years in the making and still going strong) by my side as I zig zagged between semis on congested and sometimes snow/ice covered freeways while he took phone calls.

The success of our trip isn’t about the $ per gallon of bees; “It is what it is.”

We are grateful to have the chance to reconnect with some of our favourite bee associates and their beautiful wife’s (you know who you are😁) and the brief memories we shared in Savannah, Georgia.❤️

Until next year…

12/07/2025

12/07/2025

“Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out." — Robert Collier.

At Ricard Farms we have always been open to hiring anyone who is willing and able to work hard and do so safely. Young, old, brunettes, blonds, and even redheads😁.

Oh, and…

you don’t need a Nursing Degree to work for RFL…

but it doesn’t hurt😉

12/02/2025

AND the bee-farming saga continues…

Ever seen over 4,000 bee nests naked?

Oops—I mean unstrapped.

Once they’re stripped clean from the tin, the backing, the backboards, and the straps that hold everything together, they are stacked neatly to dry. Once dried, they’ll head through the punching machine to push out all those baby bee larvae from each nest.

Just another four days of hard work at Ricard Farms. 🐝😆 HUGE thanks to our hardworking helpers—you know who you are!

11/08/2025

A Farmer’s Sacred Pause
Any farmer—anywhere in the world—knows that bone-deep exhaustion that finally has a chance to settle in while driving down a grid road on the last day of harvest.
While the autumn sun hangs low, spilling its golden light across the fields now stripped bare, where echoes of summer’s warmth dances off the reflection of the settling dust. The hum of sprayers, combines, and grain trucks abruptly silenced—leaving behind a calm vibration of fulfillment: laced with gratitude that the equipment held up, the yield was plentiful, and—most importantly, that we made it through another hectic season safely.
It’s a sacred pause that only farmers truly know—a deep breath between seasons, a quiet surrender to the calm after the hectic storm of another long and relentless harvest.
And maybe that’s the lesson in it all: after every season of doing, comes a moment meant simply for just being. For reflecting. For resting. For giving thanks for what we have—and looking forward to what the next season will bring.

09/27/2025

Another summer has buzzed by, leaving behind the skeletal remains of a bee hut in a field brimming with alfalfa seed.

With the leafcutter bees now gathered and the tarps neatly rolled up—thanks to our dynamic duo, Sam and Drew—the nests are stacked in our shop to dry. The full nests are set aside and marked for sale, while the half-filled ones wait patiently to be punched into loose cell form for next year’s season.

So, how many leaf-cutter bee lives did this one skeletal hut produce over the summer? Let’s break it down with a dash of reproductive math about our resilient, hardworking female leafcutter bee.

After a 21-day incubation, and by late June when the alfalfa bursts into full purple bloom, we place three bee boxes in each hut. Each box holds 7 lbs. of half-hatched bee larvae—that’s 21 lbs. per hut. With a lab report estimating 4,500 live bees per pound, each tarped hut kicks off the season with a staggering 94,500 baby bees.

Now, with 20–30 huts in each field…well, you can do that math. 😉

If the Saskatchewan summer holds steady—hot, sunny, and bee-friendly—our industrious lady bees have been known to produce offspring at 2.5 times the starting number. That means a single hut has the potential to generate an astonishing 236,250 little leafcutter bees, gathered at season’s end to be sold or tucked away in a cozy, climate-controlled unit until next summer.

Now that’s what we call a bee-sational season! 🐝✨

08/08/2025

I learned early on in my career as a farmer’s wife that when I was invited to go to town for an ice cream, I shouldn’t take the invitation at face value; dig deeper and ask more questions.

There’s always an ulterior farmer’s motive in any question my husband asks, like:
“What are you doing right now?”
“What are your plans next week?”
And my all-time favorite, “Do you want the good news, or the bad news?”

Last night when the offer was made to go to town for ice cream, I was not at all surprised when our trusted old farm truck turned sharply down a dirt road to FIRST check on a field that had been targeted by a very determined black bear.

While my husband did bear reconnaissance—laying down bear pads—I was casually asked to keep an eye on the tree line for black bears, as they had been helping themselves to our bee larvae, a small but very tasty appetizer for the pesky black beasts.

07/27/2025

While the July sun blazes and the temperatures climb, the bees are out there living their best lives—buzzing around our alfalfa fields like they own the place. Ever since their late June release, the weather’s been hot, hot, hot—just the way those little winged divas like it.

Now that we’ve caught our second wind, our bee specialists have shifted gears and are getting the combines ready for harvest season. Because clearly, sleep is only for the winter months.

As with every season, it’s never a slow moment at the Ricard Ranch!