I gotta talk about the bees. Apparently bees are the latest rage, and my husband is fascinated by them. Awesome. Can you hear the excitement in my voice? I didn’t think so. I actually think he might be allergic to them, too, but he’d never let a small thing like that get in his way.
When we began to get our chicken population stabilized, we discussed whether our next project should be bees. Since I have a panic attack when any flying, stinging insect gets within 50 feet of me, I was a little on the negative side. What if the bees attack us? What if we create some mutant strain of killer bee and destroy the world? It may sound extreme, but trust me, if it can happen to anyone, it would happen to me. My husband affectionately calls me “an accident looking for a place to happen.”
We decided it might be a good idea to reach out to our local beekeeping experts (yes, there are local beekeeping experts). We signed up for an informational meeting to learn all the ins and outs of bees. We both did our share of research and reading up to the meeting so we could ask intelligent questions. Turns out that wasn’t necessary.
We showed up bright and early (ok, 8 a.m. on a Saturday is bright and early for me) at a very large auditorium for the session. There were hordes of people. The place was packed to the max. We walked in with a guy who told me his bee saga. Turns out he’d lost multiple hives. I was afraid to ask him where they went or why they kept leaving him, but after talking to him for a while, I can honestly see why a bee might want to get away. In fact, I wanted to get away.
The “bee class” turned out to be a four-hour session of the most irritating people you could possibly pull together (me included, of course). Remember in college when all you wanted to do was get out of class, but there was always that one person? Just as you prepare to stand up and gather your books to leave, that one person had to make a point or ask the same question that had already been asked or, worse yet, a philosophical question that could cause the professor to pontificate for hours. Love it. Makes me want to rip my hair out and scream.
Now imagine an auditorium of about 250 of those people, plus my husband and I. Oh, and Sasquatch. I spotted him right away. He was sitting on the far left side of the auditorium but kept having to get up and stalk across the room for the donut table. That creature must’ve eaten 50 donuts. I’m fairly certain he wasn’t there for the bees.
The four hours were spent listening to the same questions and answers over and over and over and over…..you get the picture. And the poor guy who keeps losing bees honestly should join a bee grief support group. His questions were more and more emotional as the day went on. I think maybe he should step away from the bees.
My favorite question was about the type of bees. Apparently, Italian bees are very nice. I guess all that pizza and pasta makes them kind. So those are the bees you want…..very docile. One lady asks, “So how do you tell the difference between the Italian bees and the French bees?” It took every ounce of strength I had not to raise my hand and respond, “Well, the Italian bees all have gorgeous dark hair and love spaghetti, while the French bees have these teeny, tiny little berets.”
It was at that point my husband decided we should leave the bee class before I lost control of myself. My sarcastic comments can only be suppressed for so long, you know, and then I explode. It’s just too much.
We did get some good information that day so I can’t say it was a waste. I had no idea bees were so complex. As compared to chickens, they are like little Einsteins. The whole hive concept is fascinating and amazing.
But the jury is still out on whether we can actually tackle them. If we ever go there, I can promise you I’ll be sleeping with one eye open and a can of Raid under my pillow…..just in case things start to go apocalyptic……
Hugs and blessings always,
LITTLE JEN in the BIG WOODS
This is the best one yet! I am on my way to David Thiessen’s office to make sure he doesn’t miss it!