Being Methodical

Yesterday the new hive arrived. Chris is out of town, so his friend, Max-the-bee-inspector, brought my bees home. For those of you new to this stuff, when you order bees, they come in three-pound caged packages; the queen arrives tucked in her own little box inside the package.

Packaged Bees

Max doesn’t wear all the gear. I think I’ll probably stick with wearing the hat and veil, but they say the more equipment you use, the more likely you are to be stung because you can’t feel the bees and you’re therefore more apt to kill one. If you kill one, the others want to sting you so you don’t kill them, too (I’m that way). Max likes to feel the bees. He is so methodical in his movements that he sort of soothes everyone…especially me. I felt veeerrrrryyyyy relaxed with him.

Queen in her Shipping Package

So, Max didn’t think installing my new bunch was such a big deal. He was much more interested in checking on the swarm hive I inherited from Chris. He could hardly wait to open it up and see how they were doing. We were all shocked at how well they were adjusting…this whopping group has already been building out stuff…way faster than we anticipated. Max had to clean up some of the overbuilding because I didn’t have all the frames in the super (that’s bee talk, people. Get used to it).

Max Checks Swarm Hive

So, we cleaned up the excess gunk as we searched each frame for the queen…we found her! It’s amazing that you can sort of look through thousands of bees and find the queen just walking among them. It’s a patient, slow process. But sort of soothing. I’m gonna have to get used to those bees walking all over my hands, though.

So, this is what the swarm hive I inherited from Chris looks like on a frame—notice the comb-like stuff they’re working on…that’s all new since Sunday night. I’m gonna have a hell of a lot of honey, folks.

Swarm Hive on a Frame

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I’ll Have to Sell a Lot of Honey to Break Even

Patience, patience, patience.  No new bees got installed yesterday. As I understand it, Ohio is a state big into bees; and lots of bee suppliers order their bees from the same outfit out of Georgia. And that outfit decided the weather wasn’t quite right to ship the bees yet. I think they’re coming either today or tomorrow. I don’t know. I just sit here and wait for Chris to call me and tell me what to do next.

And that Chris is working hard to make this fun and manageable for me. He’s given me everything I need for two hives. He’s given me his bees. And everyday I come home to find a few new things he thinks I’ll need on my front porch. But Chris left town yesterday and will be gone for a few days, so if the bees arrive while he’s gone, one of his friends will come over to show me the ropes. I don’t want to be caught ignorant, so I’m reading all about it as fast as I can. And, strangely enough, so is Deb.

Yesterday after work, I headed with the dog out to Hillsboro to buy the bee supplies I still need (and I got a lot of replacement stuff for Chris). Hillsboro is way-the-hell far from here! It took us about an hour or more to get to this place. But there in the back of the huge Higgins Construction Company warehouse on Rt. 50 is a stock of beekeeping supplies that would make your head spin. And a sweating old Mr. Higgins came out from tending his bees in his stinky white coveralls to talk bees with me. His kids run the shop now while he does bee stuff. He’s kind of nutty about it all…certified bee-venom therapist. He stings people with bees to cure allergies and arthritis. Oh boy. I don’t know. I just listened.

There’s a LOT of detail work in this adventure. All the neighbors are into it. Wait till they see me in my new helmet and veil and puffing my smoker.

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Bees: the Old-School Way

Chris-my-bee-buddy left an urgent message on my iPhone yesterday. He said I needed to call him “right away.” I did. He asked if I was ready to get into the bee business immediately and in the old-school way. I said I was ready. He said his bees had swarmed and I needed to get my hive and come to his house right that second. I did. This is what we found there:

Bee Swarm

So, Chris gave me a bee suit and a helmet and a veil and some gloves and told me to put them on. Let me tell you, it’s hot in that outfit.

Suiting Up

Apparently another queen had emerged from one of Chris’ existing hives, and, as we know, there can only be one queen per hive. So, the hive splits in half, and one half leaves the hive with one of the queens and heads off in a big ball to find a new home. Chris saw them swarm into the air and fly around there in a tight formation (all these bees are clustering around the queen to protect her); then they found a place to stay for a while…this swarm found a pile of brush in Chris’ backyard.

So Chris figured out a way to cut off one of the branches containing most of the bees. He lifted the branch loaded with bees and shook the load into my hive. “Shook” doesn’t exactly capture the feeling…they sort of plop off in a living lump. Chris knew that if he got the queen in that load, then all the others would soon follow her. We waited, and within just seconds, bees began to march into the hive.

And the sound! It was crazy being that close to so many bees.

Swarm Entering Hive

Within about 15 minutes, most of the bees had entered their new home. We waited until dark to move them so that all the bees could come home and so they were all settled down. Bees, as you know, Reader, are active during the day but come home to sleep at night. So, at dusk, Chris called and I went back to his house. We secured the hive with ratcheted straps and moved it to his Suburban; he drove them to my house in his car (I thought I should drive them since they’re my bees and I should take responsibility for them immediately, but he doesn’t trust me with them yet. He thinks I might scream if they get loose in the car. Well, I wouldn’t scream if a few got loose, but I might scream if they all got loose. I’ll bet Chris would scream, too). In the dark, we moved the still-humming hive to its new home on the hill in our back yard.

Today, we’re going to install the bees we ordered into another hive. Now I’ll have two. I rock.

Watching the Swarm Enter Their Hive

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Updates 4/26/09

Updates:

1. I got the iPhone. Yes, it’s amazing. It really is. I’m glad I got it.
2. Deb is amazed at the iPhone, too, and I think she sees that our world did not end when I brought it home. Though she wishes I hadn’t.
3. My bee hive is in it’s place. Deb and I don’t agree on where it should go.
4. I want it visible and she wants it to disappear.
5. The bees arrive tomorrow. I’ll post pictures later this week.
6. Until I get my own pictures of my own bees, my friend Carol sent me a link to Roger’s Honey…so you can briefly see what I’m in for.
7. We had an overnight visitor who sort of makes me squirrely.
8. I got a bingo in Scrabble (AGILITY) and still lost to Sue.
9. Blood glucose levels bottom out at night. And if I ride my bicycle.
10. The windows are all wide open and we’re sleeping under the ceiling fans on medium spin.

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Give Me a Mandolin!

I didn’t stop tapping my feet all night. I love Bluegrass music. I wish I played the guitar or the banjo or the fiddle or the mandolin. I don’t think I’d like playing bass. Wind intruments don’t interest me. I’m into the ones with string. I like the piano, too, because there are strings in there.

I don’t play a thing. Anyone can tell you how musically challenged I am. I cannot translate what I hear. Deb, on the other hand, is brilliant when it comes to music. She hears undercurrents (I’m sure there’s a better word for what I’m trying to say). She can recreate it. Really. It’s in her bones. We don’t know yet if she can actually compose or arrange, but I’ll bet she can. I wish she’d take a class on music theory or something…and I wish she played this piano or that guitar or that banjo more.

Deb’s mother is a gifted pianist. And I’m not kidding. She is no amateur. She really is awesome. I guess Deb got music in utero, and so she’s got it in her marrow. I’ve got dancing in mine. My feet tap a lot. Deb claps on the off beat…which is a real gift. She’s got rhythm; she’s got a great great voice; but to my mind, her greatest gift is her ear and what she intuitively knows in the music.

Deb didn’t clog at last night’s Appalachian Grass gig, but one woman from the audience did…she absolutely cut loose. She called it Hillbilly Stomp. Something in me stomped, too.

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Please Don’t Clog in Public

Did you see that weather report?! Woo hoo. Finally. I want to ride something with two wheels. Can’t today, though (well, I might just leave work a little early and jump on my bicycle. That would be awesome! Don’t tell the work people). Tonight I’m skipping the weekly scooter ride and going to a bluegrass concert with Deb. Our friend, Emily, sings and plays the mandolin in Appalachian Grass, and they’re playing in Covington tonight, so we’re heading south of the river. I hope Deb doesn’t start clogging in public.

And my bee buddy Chris keeps leaving bee and hive paraphernalia on our porch.

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She Doesn’t Get It

Got my hair cut yesterday, and once I got home I realized she’d left me with some longish tendrils again. What the heck is up with that? And why don’t I notice it while I’m sitting in that damned chair so she can snip them off right away? I hate tendrils or anything that looks in the least bit wispy. Screw it. I cut them off with the kitchen shears.

At one point, she sort of lifts the hair up on one side and says, “Maybe we should go asymmetrical.” Like she wants one side of my hair shorter than the other. I HATE that look. I always wonder what people were thinking when they run around with asymmetrical hair. I looked at her in the mirror as if she’d lost her mind. I may have to find a new stylist. Where is Jody? Jody gets it.

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I Have the Hives

I love that Chris Stephens is a “now” kinda guy. I came home from work yesterday to find he’d place a hunk of beeswax in the wet hiking boots I’d left on the front porch. I called him; he said, “Let’s go get your bee stuff.” I picked him up and we drove down to Mariemont and he opened someone’s garage doors. I have no idea whose garage we looted, but I came home with a car full of bee supplies. He also gave me two catalogs from which to order whatever he didn’t have to give me…the hat, the veil, the smoker, some tools.

Chris’ bees are already busy…you can just watch them flying in and out of their hives. It’s a show. He says it may take a year for my bees to get that busy. He lost some hives over the winter, but he has three going right now. He’s rebuilding them. Apparently this is a sort of process…they settle in, make a little home, have a family, then get to work. They increase in activity incrementally as they reproduce. As I told you yesterday, I’m not a patient person, but I’ll try to focus on growth rather wishing my bees were crazy busy.

Have you ever seen how many bees are shipped? It’s A LOT. It’s like 2 or 3 pounds of bees. We’ll install them next Monday afternoon…the 27th.

Okay, so the two names I like best (once my sleepy little bees start producing honey) are “Lizzzzzzz” and “Two Honeys.” If you have a name you like for my bees’ honey, let me know about it.

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I Want it Now

Some mornings I rush the coffee. It should probably steep just a little bit longer, but I want it now.

I am not a very patient person. I wish I were, but I’m just not. When I think a thing should happen, I think that thing should happen right now. And if I want something, I want it today. I can postpone gratification only briefly. Lately, I’ve wanted an iPhone. Don’t even ask me why because I can’t answer that question. I’m not sure. I think I’ve held out a long time for this iPhone. Initially, I thought I wanted a Blackberry…this began sometime late fall 2008. But after researching it, I realized the Blackberry is more business than fun, and I want fun…with apps and a GPS and all that cool stuff.

And aesthetics is a big deal to me. Say what you want…I like Mac over PC because of its look and feel. I’m a sucker for it. I love my #1 bicycle and my #1 scooter because they look and feel perfect for me. Whatever I get hooked on has to look and feel right. And the iPhone’s got me wrapped around it’s little finger. There’s probably an app for that.

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Always Stop at the Overlook

I’m not sure about the new header here…maybe it’s too light and happy. It does look a little bit springlike, so I guess I’ll keep it until I feel the need to move on.

I’m thinking of skipping church this morning. My wonderfully fun dinner-group friends (you know, Heidi and Cathy and all) cautioned me about missing the sermon next week, so since I have to show up then, I think I’ll skip today. (We all ate at Arnold’s last night…I had a blast because Deb and I sat right across the table from Heidi and Cathy and laughed.)

Today begins a series of three sermons on marriage, and next week is the one about gay marriage…or Holy Unions. I prefer the word “marriage.” “Holy Union” makes it sound as if there shouldn’t be days when you’d like to wring your partner’s neck. “Marriage” sounds as if it can hold up to that. Anyway, Heidi and Cathy have already read the sermon, and they say I need to hear it. Of course, we all agreed that anytime gay stuff is talked about in church we always feel as if there’s a big spotlight shining on us. So, I’ll go next week and skip today.

Deb and I played golf yesterday; then we rode our scooters downtown to join our little group for dinner. We rode downtown along the river on Eastern Avenue and came home through Eden Park—we stopped in the dark at the Eden Park Overlook…lots of people were there, and the colors reflecting on the river were gorgeous. The whole night was nice. A perfect night for taking the scooters for a spin.

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