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Tuesday, May 10, 2011

fire which never dies burning me forever

Per my duties as Commune Historian I am chronicling that it has been a bad few days in Bee. It's been turrible rainy and cold, and the magic neighbors fear that they have lost their entire clutch? swarm? colony? of bees. They say there is an inch-deep layer of dead bees on the floor of their hive. Bleh. So they came over tonight to check mine, and they yet live. There are still a good couple handfuls of bees clustered around the queen, and they were sort of rumbling and buzzing quietly to themselves, grousing about the weather, most likely. Boy, I hear you, buddies.

The hypothesis can be advanced that my hive location on the south side of the garage, with the sun reflecting on it all day, is a good one for these sketchy first weeks when the bees are getting established. Cold is death to bees, because if the temperature gets too low they are too cold to move and physically cannot get to their honey stores (or sugar water, in our case as new apiarists). But if the hive gets nice and warm during the day it will take longer to cool down at night. Plus we have thousands and thousands of dandelions in our grass and in the hayfield, so they get plenty to eat. We're just bee lovers over here.

Hey, we're learning. 'Tis an expensive lesson, to be sure. Hopefully Sanga Haiza's neighbor who has a Winnie-the-Pooh-style bee tree can help us out.

Tomorrow is the meeting where our town sells its soul. Or something. Just reminding you. Hey--keep your eyes peeled for an old Craftsman house on three-plus acres for me, would you? Outbuildings optional, but they'd be a big plus.

1 comments:

Amy said...

I think, if you opened it up, it would look exactly like the Winnie the Pooh tree (or, so the kids and I hypothesize).