No one's been stung or carried off by a swarm and neither of us has a beard or other hairpiece constructed from bees. Though, that last one would be cool-ish.
After the mayhem on Saturday, Sunday was relatively mellow. I mean, they sorta did the same bullcrap they did on Saturday with the flying all around the yard and clumping up at the entrance of the hive, but the big concern from Saturday began resolving itself and, of course, the big no-nos from Saturday were righted, allowing some semblance of order to be restored.
Specifically, I installed a makeshift hive top style feeder and the entrance reducer at its teeniest setting.
And then I set about capturing the swarm that had gathered on my fence. Which was the Big Concern from Saturday.
Sidenote: The fence to which I refer is the one that we share with the shitty neighbors.
The very same neighbors who I haven't talked to in any great length in, oh, about six months. Sure, from time to time we exchange sort of pleasant Hellos, but they really don't indulge in normal human interaction, so the opportunity to chat and, say, advise them on the status of my backyard hobbies has been non-exisistent.
What I'm saying is that they don't know (or, at least they haven't mentioned it yet) that I have a beehive in my backyard, so when all the bees swarmed the fence sniffing longingly after their departed queen (she landed there briefly before taking the fuck off forever), I sort of thought that this was karma's way of being, like, "You see what you've done. You didn't tell them about it like you should have and now you're going to have to go over there and be, like, 'Hi Neighbors Who Hate Me, I have a swarm of bees on the fence and I need to access your yard in order to capture them.'"
Thankfully, by some miracle, the bees settled on swarming on MY side of the fence. Where I could then set about capturing them without the super soul-eating task of asking permission of my hating neighbors to access their yard to recapture a swarm of stinging insects that I'd released upon the world without their knowing.
|Um...come to mama?|
Anyway, I waited until they'd settled pretty well (bees are all about the sun, so when it starts to set and cool off, they huddle up and sleep until morning) and then went about brushing them into a box and pouring them back into the hive.
It was vaguely satisfying and not at all death defying, so that was good going.
Bubba seemed pleased that the big white box that had been activity-less in the morning was, after a very raucous day, once again activity-less and also full of the bees I'd introduced not more than 24 hours before.
Well, that's not true. Another set of neighbors, the super nice ones with whom we share a dutch door in the fence, actually said it was "cool" and they weren't afraid at all because they're "not allergic or anything" and, hey, "the apple tree will love it!"
Gotta love those kind of neighbors. The kind that think swarming bee activity is cool.
Meanwhile, I tried not to let on that this behavior was unexpected or that I hadn't had any idea what to do about it when I'd first come upon it. Can't have them thinking I'm a total idiot.
And now? Well, I called the bee yard on Monday morning first thing, after leaving them two voicemails over the weekend (bee yards apparently do NOT work weekends) and at least one freakish sounding email, to get a new queen overnighted to my house.
How very last Thursday of me!
And that queen should be waiting for me this afternoon to be installed tonight. Hopefully without incident. And then again, hopefully without incident, in a few days the workers will release her from her cage by way of enjoying a nice smushy marshmallow that will never see the inside of a s'mores and then after that I hope to see some pollen laden bees traveling back to that hive from my cherry tree. DAMN IT ALL.
For reals. I want that tree pollinated. Watching them pass by the big billowing blossoms over the weekend was almost more than I could take.
|We don't have much time!|
And, hey, it wouldn't hurt to hang out on the citrus trees, while they're at it. And the apple tree that's suddenly gone into pink bud stage.
|We have a little bit more time. But still.|
And, if you're of the sort who wants your bee learning sans drama and swearing, I'm sharing as I go on Examiner.com.