Darlin', I have no desire to gloat about the mean cold and dingy snow you face. That doesn't give me satisfaction, it just makes me want to come get you and bring you somewhere habitable. Like I wanted to save these bees.
They're at my Dad's house. When we told him that we had assembled a bee box, he mentioned a colony living in a peach tree at his house. They're just hanging there, he said. You can have 'em. I couldn't think how to get them to Oakland, but I was super excited to build another bee box and hive them at my Dad's house. Assembling that first bee box from a kit made me feel super competent, practically a carpenter, able to do anything. And I've read a lot about bees on the internet!
For the better part of a month, I'd call my Dad periodically to ask him about the bees and report my studies about hiving wild colonies. Daddy wasn't so interested. He doesn't want to keep bees. He wants a colony out of his tree. I switched to calling him and asking him fairly arcane questions about how he intended to keep the bees. Did he expect to extract honey more than once a year? Did he want pollen? Or was he more interested in the wax? For candles? He'd explain again that he had no interest whatsoever in the bees, and I would promise to study the matter some more and get off the phone. This was fun until he heard me starting to laugh at his dozenth exasperated explanation that he DOESN'T WANT TO KEEP BEES, and then he wouldn't play anymore.
Sherry, I hope you are braced and calm. This story takes a terrible turn. I got an email from Daddy saying that the bees had left. The colony was small, so I was worried about them through the harsh forty degree nights and days in the seventies. I wanted to get down there and hive them, and teach Daddy about feeding them sugar water. (I have read about these things on the internet, so I'm feeling pretty expert. Ready to teach, even.) Daddy sent pictures.
No bees.
They left, and flew over to the apricot tree. I think we all know that swarm is too tiny to survive.
I have to admit that I am discouraged. This is the second colony I've failed to save, even though I had good intentions. I don't know what kind of world we live in if my good intentions don't actually turn into hived bees. I was gonna go down in March and build Daddy a box and transfer the combs.
Anyway, that's what happened. I hope hearing about this didn't bring you down too much. It isn't like you have any nature to cheer you up where you live right now.
Some notes:
1. If you happened to notice the blue sky, green grass, bud break on the peach tree and mention of the apricot tree, well, you are very perceptive.
2. A wonderful reader referred me to Voice of the Hive, which is great. I can't link to individual stories, but Diplomatic Immunity and Observations from a Bee Buffet both made me laugh.
3. Daddy is keeping the comb for us in his fridge. That part is all my sister's domain. She wants honey and to do crafty things. I like the earlier parts, with jargon.
4. A neighbor of my sister's has several hives. I go sit with them sometimes. I think that if I have bees, it is going to be a real temptation to open up the box all the time and see what they're doing. I'm SO CURIOUS. We need one of those boxes with glass walls.
5. Have I mentioned that everyone in our family is allergic? Not dying-instantly allergic. But definitely very-strong-reactions allergic.