I am a bee widow.
Since undertaking bee keeping my husband has 20,000 gals to keep him occupied. Their ‘boudoirs’ consist of two hives. One cedar wood and one polyhive.
I am all for the bee plight and I will write further on this in a future post. The declining bee population is cause for much concern and will effect us all. The more bee keepers, the better for everyone. However, that said, I had not expected my husband’s bee adoration to be quite so fuelled. At any given spare moment it’s bee time. Bees need feeding, inspecting, mollycoddling and watching … I suspect the hives have been decked out in Sanderson fabric and tulle. Aside from practical bee time, there is research bee time, committee bee time, course bee time and the bee jollies. This has left myself, the labradors and hens feeling quite bereft.
I must say … the bees are a sore point … quite literally …
I have frequented the apairy several times. A beautiful tranquil place in a Cornish field with a stream. The two hives share the green space with a couple of ponies, sheep and ducks. It really is idyllic and in fairness I can quite see why this lovely patch of Cornwall has it’s allure – away from the DIY restoration and chaos of the cottage.
The last time I visited, I did so to take photographs of the apairy for my husband. It was a drizzly day a la 2012 summer. I did not heed advice to wear the visitors’ bee suit, not I, I’ll be fine. I took an array of ‘husband in bee suit with bees’ pictures as directed. All went swimmingly well albeit the gals did seem a little het up re: the weather. I can’t blame them, we all feel the same. Damn that jet stream.
Duty completed, I relaxed to watch the ponies going about their Sunday routine, while my husband chopped and collected wax or similar off the bottom of frames.
Bees are not so bad after all … what a charming hobby … I am so looking forward to the honey.
BAM, out of the tranquil still … one furious mad madam flings herself at my cheek! A second later … bees, everywhere. One big buzz rings in both ears. From my right eye I see Bee 1 aligning herself for another shot. Ow! A sting lodges itself into my cheek. The harlot! The others, possibly four, encircle my head ready to charge. Close your eyes! Now feeling them, having landed on target, crawling amongst my hair, I prompt them to move with my swatting hands. They become furious … jumping … crawling … flying … buzzing …
I release my hairband and shake out my hair. Oh no, these femme fatales are on a kamikaze mission and will not back down. Realising a retreat to be the only option, I run, run, run away from the attack. Shouting for my husband, shaking head, dancing, jumping and running in loops around the field … two more feisty moos go in for the kill. Sting two and three catch the top of my head.
Husband appears in protective suit with smoker … “don’t worry … I see her”. HER! Bah … the mistress! With a few puffs of smoke the concubines fly off.
I am in shock … pain and feeling mighty sorry for myself.
“They thought you were a bear” husband offers with a cheerful informative face. “Yes, as I’m taking wax … they think it’s a honey attack … the guard bees go out to look for anything that resembles a bear”.
What! I am 5 feet 10, I have on brown wellington boots, dark green / brown cords, a brown knit top and long brown hair! I am practically Yogi, Chubaka or similar !!!!!
Yes husband, that bit of informaton would have been better dispatched pre bee visit … or possibly pre when I decided to decline my white bee suit!
Retreating back to the cottage I lay out on the sofa dousing my wounds with vinegar. My ever faithful labradors licking any exposed flesh in sorrowful pity.
Four further days of pain and recovery eventually ensues.
I have not been back to the apairy since … the bees will be packed up to over winter in the next week or so. I will take the downtime to work through the bee trauma and overcome my bee apprehension.
The moral of the tale must be … always but always wear a bee suit when near to random chap inspecting bees. Have complete respect and due regard for this arm of the womens institute. These females are crazed warriors protecting fearlessly what is rightfully theirs.
Well yes I do have respect for my adversaries and I will don the suit without question when spring comes … but ha … he’s mine for the winter ladies … you can forego your honey trap for a few months and buzz right off!
Bye for now
R!
xx
