Finding the Key to the Bees' Knees

       I am absolutely terrified of bugs. Perhaps it's because my brother used to chase me around the yard with daddy long legs. Nevertheless I enjoy the outdoors and always have. My Dad built me a beautiful victorian play house outside when I was little. We made it pretty, hung some curtains, put up a mail box, and it even had real roof shingles. However everyday before my game of "house," I would call the alarm that signaled my father to come outside and do the daily sweep. "Are there any daddy long legs? Spiders? Hornets? Bees?" I would ask in fear and apprehension. Though he knew they were harmless and my fear was silly, he still checked every corner and kicked out any uninvited intruders. I'm pretty sure one time I made him use an industrial shop vacuum. While grateful my play days were full of laughter rather than creepy, crawly legs, I regret having fed my irrational fear of bugs as a child. Now as an adult I can't even look at a spider without screaming and doing some kind of awkward, spastic, almost-80s-dance-move. The same applies to anything buzzing with a stinger or translucent wings.
       To my luck I haven't crossed paths with many icky bugs so far during my journey into agriculture. I know...a wannabe farmer who is afraid of bugs? GET. REAL. I knew the day would come when I'd have to get over it if I really want to learn how to farm. Today that day was gifted to me by the one and only Tomato Whisperer, Teddy Bolkas of Thera Farms. In three simple texts Teddy successfully convinced me not only to come over and "help him" with the new honey bees he just bought, but also to adopt them as my own honey buns. I must say I wasn't thinking when I accepted the offer. Or maybe I've just got my mind on the honey and the honey on my mind. Perhaps honey bees would be a good first step in eradicating my girlish aversion. I guess we'd find out...
       I arrived at Teddy's to find him on the roof of the two shipping containers on the farm where tools and machines are stored. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, swatting back and mumbling what sounded like a hybrid of Greek bussing and a sweet-talking-baby voice. Upon my acknowledgement he screamed, "GET UP HERE NOW BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO LOSE MY SHIT!" This was not a comforting welcome. "Oh my sweet Lord...what the hell was I thinking," I thought. Teddy has been keeping bees for at least 5 years so why would be be so nervous? Could it be that he lied to me about the extremity and danger of this seemingly crunchy task? His hands are larger than my entire torso! If he was scared, I would enter a whole 'nother realm of uncomfortable. I was about to get stung for real. Teddy generously left me the bee suit.  I slipped into what felt like paper, a safari hat, giant net, and elbow length leather gloves. How the bees wouldn't sting me through this joke of a protective uniform was beyond me. Sure enough, I climbed up the ladder as the hum grew into a roar.

       There were three large wooden boxes, each with a copper cover, and a frantic Teddy shoving a smoke pump at me and gulping heavily as we both thought "oh shit." There were three smaller boxes made of screens, each housing 10,000 Italian honey bees from Pennsylvania. Though the three wooden boxes seemed like simple hollow wooden boxes, each housed the framework of the factory that would soon become a living bee hive. Bee hives are like buildings with different parts, sections, and structural elements. They act like an entire organism with interconnected parts. Each box has a bottom board that acts as the foundation and passageway. On top of that lies the brood chamber or hive body containing slots full of removable frames holding walls of bees wax. This is where we planted the queen and dropped all the other bees. Then there lies the queen excluder, a thin layer of plastic with rows of tiny windows that keeps the queen in the hive body and prevents her from laying eggs in the part of the hive where honey is made. The next layer called the top super is like the party room where all of the magical bee regurgitation, aka honey, takes place. Then the hive is topped with an inner cover that looks like a thin board of wood with a skinny 6 inch opening in the middle. Finally, it is topped with an outer cover with a stylish copper roof. These bees are livin' in style.
       We removed the top super and pulled out four of the bees wax frames. Before opening each box of bees we sprayed them with equal parts sugar and water to get them sorta drunk so they didn't unleash on us. Pumping smoke also calms the bees, but Teddy has found sugar water to be more effective. My whole body tensed up as Teddy carefully removed each lid and fished out the queens. The Queen Bee comes corked in her own little box. She goes in first since the bees will only stay in the hive if the Queen remains. Once she is settled, the rest of the bees are home free, but not without a horrifying and adrenaline pumping important step. To avoid getting stung, one must not make any sudden movements or squish any bees, as they release pheromones that tag you as the enemy and can provoke the other bees to avenge the death of their fallen comrade...which means you will get stung.  I got the smoke pump ready as to my horror Teddy BANGED the box onto the hive to make the bees fall in. Literally...banged the box on the hive. "PUMP! SMOKE! SMOKE," he screamed, as I braced myself for the swarm of bees I thought would force us off the shipping container and prancing around the yard like a spastic pair of screaming boobies. To my surprise, though a few bees flew around frantically like drunken crack fairies, they were pretty relaxed. "TALK TO THEM IN ITALIAN! WE HAVE TO STAY CALM," Teddy said, as he sweet talked the bees and tried to stay cool. After a few more bangs, some smoke, and my body's entire supply of cortisone, the bees were all in the hive. We put on the top super, left them some sugar water, and capped the hive. Then it was my turn.

       "NUT UP NANCY" were the comforting words Teddy left me with to brace myself for the coming challenge. If I wanted honey I needed to face my fear. I needed to go all out. I thought a 30 second mediation with the bees would connect our energy and calm my fear. Well...while that spiritual reiki business has saved all other aspects of my life and keeps me sane on a daily basis, it sure as hell doesn't make a swarm of 30,000 bees any less intimidating. I don't think the bees are interested in "connecting with my energy field" anyway. Nevertheless, I successfully transplanted the bees into the hive without a single sting (thanks to the bee suit). Teddy wasn't so lucky...and I won't tell you where he got stung...
       I found myself lulled by the buzzing once I overcame the frenzy of my fear. The bees are actually very calming. The final step was installing the entrance reducer, a small piece of wood with a tiny hole that goes in the bottom of the hive body on the bottom board. It keeps predators from entering the hive while leaving a small hole big enough for the bees to safely enter and exit. After making sure the hives all had food and the bees were warm, we descended from the shipping container and left them to do their "beesniss." Not only did I leave my fear of bees with the hives, but also my heart. I was in love. The bees' knees really are a majesty of sorts. I am so thankful for this opportunity that Teddy has given me to take care of my own flock.
        I am sure the bees will supply me with more than honey and freedom from fright. They slow you down and force you to move confidently and softly. We all need to slow down a little in life and take our time to enjoy the simple moments like listening to the buzz of a bee or enjoying the sweetness of fresh, raw honey. Or maybe I have no effing clue what I'm rambling about. Either way, the bees are our friends and we need to start workings towards their recovery. Bee populations across the country are declining and suffering a sort of bee blight. There are many theories for the cause. Many argue that the main cause of Colony Collapse Disorder is neonicotinoid, a pesticide that attacks the nervous system of targeted pests and is spreading to the nectar and pollen of crops, thereby making its way into the bodies of our bees. Our gardens will not flourish without their pollination and our tea will taste like poo without their vomit. Find out what you can do to make a difference at: http://www.onegreenplanet.org/animalsandnature/the-disappearing-bees-and-what-you-can-do-to-help/. If we slow down, get the buzz on what's really going on, and make an effort to help restore local populations, maybe one day the bees will once again beeee alright.

Thank you Teddy for teaching me so much about farming, politics, bees and Greek coffee.

“If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe then man would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more man.”

— Albert Einstein