So the bee hives are moved, and I look like this:
I'll back up.
Tuesday was a wonderful day - I was up working by 4:30am and getting SO much done.
The weather was cooperating, so I decided to prepare to move the beehives when Glenco got home from work.
I even did a little online research about it.
Remember my veggie garden plans? Well, I went out and staked that area a week ago, in preparation. I found a gob of newspapers, and I ordered up some wood chips from a local tree service.
Now, I am planning on painting that swing some fun colors, and growing some morning glories on it, and some sunflowers behind it, zinnias next to it.
This is a 32 x 38 area, a nice big veggie garden. I imagine sitting in the swing with a glass of iced tea, looking over my 'domain'. From here I'll be able to see the garden and all of the chickens.
And then....then Glenco tells me this - I heard it in an almost in a New England accent - like an old man warning me of some maritime danger -
"You know that garden right there is over our septic leach field"
Say what? Whatever.
Then I decided to research that a little bit - and as usual - I found information that said it was just fine, and other information that said I'd grow a third eye - but the general consensus was that it was OK, but not ideal.
Now, I've got three acres, so it doesn't HAVE to be there.
Upon mulling and pondering, I decided to make that my 'bee yard' and just fill it with flowers and my beehives, and to put the vegetable garden out where the beehives are now - which used to be a big vegetable garden, so the soil is actually pretty good out there.
Does it ever end? This musical chair business!?
I hope so.
Now with the decision to move the beehives into this area - I promptly got to work laying down newspapers and what wood chips and sawdust I toted home from Missouri. It didn't go far. I'm realizing how big this area is! I at least got an area big enough for the beehives ready. I'm still waiting on the wood chips to be delivered to do anymore -
So, Glenco gets home after working for 10 hours, and we've both been up since 4, and I, as sweetly as I can - say 'honey - we have to move the beehives today - the weather is going to be perfect for it the next few days (I need to keep the bees in the hives for 48 hours after moving) and this truly is our window of opportunity."
Bless the man's heart - he's willing.
Now, this is where we really start to blow it.
We get dressed to go out and mess with it - it's now about 6pm. I figured with the weather the way it was, cool, a bit drizzly - there are not going to be any bees flying about - so why gear up?
I'm wearing jeans, a long sleeve top, a hoodie, and a pair of coveralls. Gym shoes and my awesome goat wrangling gloves I bought in Missouri. Glenco is about the same.
We go out and start closing up the hives. No troubles at all. We blocked the entrances, and duct taped over them.
We need to start getting the cinder blocks out from under the hives, so we pick the smallest hive and move it out with a dolly, and get the cinder blocks.
This is when Glenco tells me that where I'm putting the beehives is woefully unlevel and we stop working for a good half an hour whilst we 'discuss' the area I've chosen and decide to make the best of it.
Moving the beehives with a dolly in the rain, after being up and working for 15 hours already isn't a lot of fun.
We were pulling them uphill over VERY unlevel surfaces. I'm still sore.
Suddenly - a bee appears. It lands on Glen's arm - he's well protected with his coat, and I decide to brush said bee away, and I do, and it makes a bee line (I totally get that saying now) right to my forehead and stings me.
I kinda laughed about it - it didn't hurt that bad, and I was like 'what are the odds?'
We are on the fourth out of seven hives.
Well, something happened, and I'll spare you the details, something with the lid sliding and out pours a ton of bees. We run from the area and decide...well, at the very least, we should get our veils on our heads.
Glenco tapes his gloves on his wrists. I do not.
We head back out - get that hive placed.
Remember the hillbilly hive I had setting on a chair?
That one was next - and it was really hard to get off the chair - and well...the bottom slipped out from under it as we were lifting it - because, you see - we failed to
STRAP THE HIVES TOGETHER SO THEY WOULDN'T FALL APART.
Blame it on tiredness - blame it on taking short cuts - but we didn't strap them together, so this hive bottom slips, and my hands go right up into the bottom of the hive as thousands of bees that are thinking 'what's going on here?' pour out - (did I mention by now, it's decidedly dusk and we can barely see?).
The next thing I know - I feel bees climbing up the inside of my sleeves. I'm trying so hard not to freak out.
I sort of calmly left the area saying to Glenco - "I'm in trouble, I'm in trouble".
He's following me trying to untape his gloves so he can help me.
I get stung - once, twice, three times - I'm losing count, I'm crying, I'm trying in vain to get all of my clothes off. I'm now completely topless in the backyard crying.
I cannot properly convey the horrifying feeling it was to feel bees climbing up my arms, trapped in all of those clothes. This picture was taken the next morning, where my clothes still laid - I figured there were full of bees, so I didn't mess with them that night - plus, I was traumatized. All that debris on them is from the maple tree - those aren't bees. They were soaking wet from it raining all night.
I came in and took two Benadryl, took a bath and ate a sweet potato in the bathtub. Oh I forgot to tell you that I told Glenco we'd have dinner after we moved the hives. Ya. Went to bed and slept like the dead - woke up really swollen and pretty miserable. My eyes were almost swollen shut and it was almost impossible to keep my glasses on from the swelling on my face.
We still had three hives to move.
The next day, Wednesday - we totally geared up, strapped the hives and had them moved an in place within minutes.
So - what would YOU name this post?
How Not to Move Beehives
If I Only Had a Brain
Someone Left My Clothes Out in the Rain