The Queen of Sheba II

Jonadab, in keeping with his middle name Asaph, the writer of Psalms, entertains us with his singing. He strums the grate in the door between rooms, scrunches up his face, and sings in a thin falsetto, a wordless song of (I hope) praise. I always enjoy hearing it, though the decibel level sometimes fills our home (and then some).

Our replacement queen bee arrived today. I headed to the post office, wondering what fantastic, adorable package she would be in. Surprisingly, she was in a standard mailer, and fit easily in my post office box.

It seemed so, well, unimportant! But even that small envelope dwarfed the little queen box.

After much thought and some prayer, I ended up doing the following. I left the Queen Esther hive alone. I opened the Queen of Sheba hive and looked at the comb that the few bees have been building, just to make absolutely sure that the original queen was not around. No blue-dotted abdomens showed themselves, so I pulled the cork out of the new queen's cage, and set her on the bottom of the hive. If no bees eat their way to her by Sunday afternoon, I'll tape the box to the top of the hive and hope they do more for her. (If I can wait that long—we'll see.)

The bees that had been a ground swarm since last weekend, I actually shoveled up. I was wearing my bee hat for protection, and dug with trepidation, concerned that once I started digging, they would all fly up and circle around me. But I first sprinkled them with powdered sugar, and they remained clustered on the weeds while I shoveled them up. I put the bee-covered weeds in the opposite side of the Queen of Sheba hive, and I do hope they will all integrate.

I feel confident now that I have done everything I can to help these bees. If they live, it will be the mercy of God, since they have had a rocky start!

I think the bees took more effort and time than I realized, as the only other thing I accomplished today was gathering up some saplings and hauling them, in the wonderful garden cart, to the cows. The cows come running; so gratifying!

While I was gathering up the downed saplings, Isaiah came up. He had been "strawberrying," picking the little Alpine strawberries around the land. He said, "I have a surprise for you, Mommy." I was pretty sure it was a berry, but acted like I had no idea. And it turned out to be a perfect little wildflower. I put it behind my ear, and he picked another so I would be well balanced. What a sweet gift.

(And note the new glasses! I had my last prescription for two months before I got pregnant with Joe and my prescription changed. I was too mad about spending all that money needlessly to get glasses that worked well, but I bought new ones while in Colorado. I'm loving how all the grasses and leaves have such perfect definition!)