Mary Beth: How is it when you think your life couldn’t get anymore hectic, it does? It’s been raining like crazy in these parts and that’s messed up my schedule in a big way. I’ve been trying to squeeze my clients in on the days it doesn’t rain, but there’s way too much work to do and not enough time which is just driving me to distraction. So, on this rare and very busy sunny day guess what my hive decided to do.
I went home for a lunch break and walked down to the hive to say hello to my bees. Hmm, something wasn’t right. Little clumps of bees were scattered on the ground near the hive, which I’ve never seen before. I touched the clumped up bees and they didn’t fly, they just kind of scootched out of the way still holding on to each other. And, strangely, in spite of the nice weather, there weren’t many bees flying in and out of the hive.
I wondered, “Are they sick? Did someone spray chemicals nearby?” I started to go back to work, but something was really nagging me. I looked at the clover near the hive and there were no bees working the flowers. Walked down to the swamp to look at the blackberry blooms, again no bees. Really odd!
As I was making my way back to the hive I heard buzzing, a lot of buzzing, and, really, because I have been so exhausted lately I thought, “Wow I’m losing it. Now I’m hearing bees buzzing in my head!” I stopped and looked towards the swamp. Holy S**!
There was a swarm clustered on a branch hanging over the water and it was bigger than I could’ve imagined. Lots of bees — too many. Were they from my hive? Denial briefly took hold, “It can’t be. Bees usually don’t swarm the first year.” Then panic seized me, the adrenaline started pumping, and my only thought was, “I’ve got to get my bees back!”
Even though I’ve read a lot about catching swarms, let me assure you the theoretical situation is WAY different from being confronted with a boiling mass of bees. Every bit of information I’d stored away was lost in my panic. That panic ramped up as my Internet connection crawled and then I was too worked up to read through any information.
I tore into the shop, running in circles and smashing into stuff. I took a few breaths to compose myself. (What I really needed was someone to slap me like you see in the movies.) I grabbed a super and attached some strips of wood saying a little prayer that Ray wasn’t planning on using that wood for a project. (Of course, he was. Sorry, Honey.) I added a piece of plywood for a bottom, then made a top with screen-covered holes.
I grabbed my suit, muck boots, gloves, loppers and ran down to the swamp. Stared at the swarm. Damn! I needed something to put the supers on. Back to the shop. Ran around in circles a few more times. This time my dogs joined in. “Look, Mom’s playing a new game, let’s chase her!” Grabbed a garbage can and a pruning saw. Ran back down to the swamp, dogs chasing me. Ugh, poison ivy was everywhere and the bees were attached to some of it. Sh**, sh**, sh**!
I pulled on my suit and my muck boots and splashed into the swamp. Splashed back out of the swamp and dragged the dogs into the cottage. (The last thing I needed was for them to get stung.) Barreled back down to the swamp. Turned the garbage can over, dropped the super on top and tried to shake the bees into the box. Didn’t work so well and things got a bit wild with the bees flying and crawling all over me. (Breathe! Remember to breathe!)
I sawed through the poison ivy and bayberry branches and carried everything onto dry ground. Wrangled the bees into the box and put a super with frames of foundation on top of that. Next I drilled a hole in the bottom and attached a feeder on top. A little overboard I know, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. So far so good, but then I remembered the poison ivy. I stripped down and took a shower. I hate poison ivy!
I called Ray, “Um, Sweetie, what time do you think you’ll be home tonight?” Ray asked, “Why?” “We need to build a hive.” Silence. “What?!” I told him the story and it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t happy about coming home after work to do more work.
Coming in for lunch, Ray took one look at me and said, “What’s up with your eyes?” “Oh no,” I thought, “poison ivy rash already?!” “They’re the craziest green I’ve ever seen!” “Adrenaline, I think.” And we started to laugh about our crazy day.
Ray asked me how much it would cost to just buy a hive. “Too much.” I sighed. I told him it would be easier for me if he’d build a brood box so I could just slip the bees onto the new hive. But no, he told me he only had time to build me a Top Bar Hive. Ohh. Hmm. Okay…
Two nights later, it’s pretty much done. I need to make more bars, but this will do very nicely for now. It’s beautiful and Ray wondered why we didn’t we do it this way the first time. Compared to the Langstroth Beehive, the Top Bar Hive was fast, easy, and no expense because he made it from scrap wood. Let me say this, if you’re thinking about getting a new hive, make a Top Bar. It even has a little window to so you can look inside and watch your bees. Aside from it being one more thing to distract me from work, it’s brilliant!
Peeking into my contraption of a holding box, I saw that the bees had built some comb and that feisty little queen had started laying eggs less than 48 hours after swarming. Amazing! I shook each frame in to the new TBH and filled the cool little feeder we made, copying a clever design we’d found on the Internet.
Now I have two hives just as I’d hoped when I started out. A word of warning here, be careful what you wish for because it may come at an inconvenient time! I was planning all along to have a Langstroth Hive and, eventually, a Top Bar Hive. Just not this way.
Looking through the window the next day it seemed like the swarm was planning to stay. I saw lots of flecks of wax on the floor of the hive and the bees have spread out over the bars. I’m crossing my fingers and hoping they stay put.
Oh, and the old hive? Stay tuned.