Federal Regulations

"I am inclined to say yes.  I like the sound of what you are trying to do.  And there are good reasons for wanting to say yes to you - the bees you want to trap are a source of concern to the park visitors.  We hear about them pretty regularly.

"But the guidelines don't allow me to approve your request."

I had called up to the Vicksburg Military Park - the National Parks' Service office here in Vicksburg.  And proposed a different approach to getting bees.  Last summer, when Remi and Gabi were with us, I spotted a beard of bees in a boll of a cedar tree in the park, just fanning away.  I got as close as I could, and got some really nice pictures using my wife's phone, and kept thinking about it all the time.

It is now springtime, it is warmer, and the bees are starting to get restless.  I suspect that they are about to swarm, if they have not already.  So I called to ask permission to set out a box that they could move into.  I picked out a likely spot - about a half mile (as the bee flies) away from their current home, and right next to the Mississippi State Master Gardeners garden.  It is an open spot, pretty near to the middle of the park, and has some tree cover, some flowers, and a source of water between the two.  Nearly an ideal place to put up a lure box.

Swarming happens when there is space pressure in the hive.  Once the available space is nearly filled - with brood, honey, and pollen, the queen will lay a few eggs into cups the workers have prepared.  These eggs are fed a rich diet, and they become queens.

But there can bee only one.

Sometimes, the virgin queen will leave, taking a portion of the hive with her.  Sometimes, the older queen will abdicate, and take a portion of the hive with her.  The scouts look for a good location.  And a good space.  Putting a box together, and attaching it to the tree adjacent to the garden would provide both.

Shockingly enough, the Park Service has rules against trapping wild animals on their land.  And it makes no distinction between elk and honeybees.  If you have a lure, or a trap, and have designs on getting an animal (s) into the trap for the purpose of removing it from the park....

You can't.

Exceptions include scientific research, and permits for removing specific pests.  Maybe.

Meanwhile, I had also asked the Master Gardeners of Vicksburg for permission to use their location as a place for the trap.  Or maybe as a permanent place for a hive.

I received a resounding NO on that front, too.  I mean, who wants pollinators near their garden, right? Pesky bees, always buzzing around my flowers. just GO AWAY!

I seem to be bumping against a number of negative responses.  But my enthusiasm is undaunted.  I have tracked down a hive that has been partially removed, and am considering bringing the rest of the bees back (probably not a good idea.)  I have called another beekeeper in the area, who has agreed to call me when he has a removal - and I will be free labor for him.  I have found another friend with a large garden outside of town, and have gotten permission to put bees on it if I ever do get more bees than Kathe will allow.  I am writing up a proposal for getting a box of bees set up in the military park - away from the paths.  I figure by leaving them within the park, I am simply providing them a space to do what they would do normally.  I am also headed to pick up my "nuc" (nucleus) of bees in a week from the beekeeper in Hattiesburg.

That hummmmm you hear is me doing my waggle dance.  I can't wait.

                                                                                                                        Sting Count: 0

No Bees as a First World Problem

This is the post where I am supposed to exclaim with great first-hand excitement how wonderful it is to keep bees.

This is not that post.

A week ago this past Friday night, I was a kid on Christmas Eve.  The long wait was over; I had made all of the preparations, and I was going to get my bees. I had been doing my waggle dance, over and over.

Saturday was going to bring rain by late morning, so I had planned to leave early, drive the three hours to the bee farm, and pay for and pick up the bees, before heading back and placing them in the hive.  I was psyched.

Notice how everything is in the past progressive tense?

Didn't happen.

Kathe suggested that I call - and she's right - it is never a bad move to verify (and a move that, somehow, I consistently fail to make  - I think it is a sense of hopeless optimism).  I found the number and asked to speak to Ty.  Pleasant enough voice responded, but he seemed confused.  I explained who I was, and that I had contacted him about the bees.  I wanted to purchase bees from him, and just wanted to make sure he was going to be there.

"Oh, right.  You are the one that contacted me by email!  Oh, well, none of those queens will be ready before April."

He went on to explain that he just needed to make sure that the queen and the brood were strong.  He didn't want any chance of failure, and waiting would make sure that what he was selling me was a good product.

Two minutes later, and I looked like the kid whose ice cream just fell off the ice cream cone.

I spent most of the day that Saturday in a bit of a funk.  I had waited for 14 years to get a place where I could have bees.  During that 14 years, I had worked out multiple contingencies, approached a bunch of people about using abandoned land, even found a spot where I was planning on hiding the bees away in City Park, where nobody went.  None of it worked out, but I had been dreaming of honeybees long before it was a thing.

And then I moved to Vicksburg, and found a house where I could have a bee corner.  I bought my top bar hive, and waited for another year to roll around.  Found someone who would sell me the bees, and set aside the time to drive a 6-hour round trip to get them.

Just not yet.

I know, I know.  It is only a few more weeks.  And yes, there is almost certainly no clearer indication of a first world problem than being upset that you have to wait to get HEALTHY bees for your hobby, instead of having them now.  But I really do feel like I was ready for Christmas and woke up to 'Oh, yeah, by the way, we moved Christmas this year.'

I pouted and groused and grumped and eventually worked my way into a foul mood.

Kathe showed remarkable patience with me.

Some interesting things might be happening, though.  There is a woman who lives an hour and a half away who is looking to give her late husband's beekeeping equipment - boxes and stuff - to novice beekeepers.  A member of the group asked for some help picking up and distributing the goodies.  There might even be a chance to purchase extra stuff that is not yet put together, and expand my operation.  (I think we might have a two-hive maximum at the house.)

I had already contacted a tree cutting service to offer my services to remove hives from trees that they are cutting.  I also went to the National Park Service to ask if I could set up a bait box in a tree in the park to catch any swarms that come through.  I even asked the gardeners who keep a garden in the park itself if they would be willing to have a nearby hive....

I am working a bunch of angles.  Some will pan out, and others won't.  But I am all in.  And ready for the chance.

When it happens, it will be like Christmas Day.


                                                                                                                       Sting Count: 0

Type-A Beekeeper (Not Social Butterflies)

Most people do not get into beekeeping because they are looking for an opportunity to be social.

A rare photo of a beekeeper herd in the wild 

Every single beekeeper I have ever spoken to about their business (hobby/side-hustle) of beekeeping has used phrases like 'getting away' or 'quiet time' or 'focus'.  Not once have I heard the phrase 'small group beekeeping' or 'beekeeping party'.  No group of guys ever head out for a weekend of beekeeping. Girls' Night Out has, to my knowledge, never involved a hive.


Working with bees is primarily a solitary endeavor.  Maybe a family endeavor; novels often use the image of the beekeeper and the small child who watches. But groups don't keep bees.


So what happens when you get a group of beekeepers together in a conference, or in a workshop, or in any large group?  I got to find out this weekend when I went to a beginning beekeeping workshop in Jackson.


I don't have bees.


Yet.


In 2002, I helped a friend of mine in Yucatan with his bees after a day of field archaeology, and I have been hooked ever since.  A swarm infested a column of my house in New Orleans, and I immediately tried to figure out how and where to transfer them to a place where I could keep them.