Stung Between the Eyes

A good day today. Other than Phil almost running over Chloe (we think she bounced off the bumper, because he felt the car hit her, but she walked away), and other than me getting stung between the eyes. Twice. More on that in a minute.

I finished planting all berry bushes, as well as a couple currants and some decorative bulbs. The 4" berry bushes aren't very noticeable, but the mulch helps us avoid stepping on them. (Notice the free range chicken—I hope she doesn't help herself to succulent blueberry leaves.)



Phil finished the Whizbang Garden Cart he's been working on. It's holding capacity is considerably more than I expected, but the large wheels make it handy to move around.

Even Gramps took a turn, and he's 87!

This afternoon we finally made it to visit our lovely neighbors the Bessettes. We haven't seen them since the end of February, and we've missed them. To top off Old Home Week, great neighbor Butch also stopped by, so Phil's parents were able to meet all our helpful neighbors.

Our orchard looks especially lovely right now, filled with many flowering herbs and blooming wild flowers. Walking through, we find dozens of tiny ripe Alpine strawberries, which eases my craving for fresh fruit.


Now, for the horrible bee stings.


First the queenless hive bees swarmed for the fifth time. I was nearby when suddenly thousands of loudly buzzing bees rose up and flew in every direction. I kept my head low, and within seconds all were gone. I have a queen somewhere in transit, and felt bummed out by my beekeeping failure, as well as the bottomless money pit that the bees have turned out to be (so far).

Phil reminded me: it's all tuition. We're doing plenty that we've never done before. And though it's not fun to spend money that feels "wasted," I need to not be too frustrated, but simply learn from what I've done and move on. (Some did eventually return to a spot near their hive. The swarm grows smaller every time.)

After speaking to the beekeeper a few days ago, he seemed to think that I should have three or four frames of brood, or baby bees gestating. In retrospect, that would make more sense in a regular hive, where the cells are already provided and the bees don't have to build from scratch. But I began to be concerned about my "healthy" hive. I'm not sure there is any brood! And I wanted to do some rearranging, to put the built comb closer to the queen.

So I needed to open the hive and take out brood comb.

Thinking about it now, I know that humans handling brood stresses the bees. However, I haven't ever looked at brood comb up close, and, truthfully, didn't even consider putting on my bee veil. I'd forgotten I had it.

At some point in the handling, an angry bee flew right up between the eyes. Or maybe two. The sting (stings?) were so light, I was hoping the noise and angry vibrating was simply a threat, but when it (they?) finally flew off (after crawling all over my eyelid&Mdash;ugh!), I could see the stinger in my nose out of the corner of my eye.

I've been fighting the swelling ever since.

Also in retrospect, I remember that my mentor didn't just start right away wearing no protection. He got to know his bees for a time. Prudence probably dictates I should do the same.