I thrill to see my bees in my backyard, but they are a source of worry. And even having bees for less than a week, I have rediscovered one of life's great truths. There is NEVER a best-case scenario that shows up when you go to Google with your problem. Whether you are looking up a suspicious mole on WebMD or trying to find out whether the debris pile in your living room means termites, internet searches seldom provide good news. It is easy to lose perspective.
So when I discovered a problem with my bees, I fretted, and flashed back to my first days on the job as project manager at the Corps of Engineers.
I had no idea what I was doing. It was terrifying. In addition to managing my projects, I was asked daily, it seemed, to provide some information in response to a request from somebody, somewhere up the chain of command. Much of the time, there was little by way of instructions to go on, and other times there would be a thousand pages of guidance for one page of data requested.
Nowhere in any of the guidance did it say how important the requested information was. Does Western Civilization's continued existence depend on the accuracy of these data? (Certainly not.) Will my project get canceled if I don't submit the right information? (Maybe....) I had a hard time separating out the URGENT from the IMPORTANT. My friends Vic Landry and Bobby Duplantier both helped mentor me through these rough patches. Sometimes it was just a matter of calming me down, other times it was explaining what was required, and sometimes the instructions they gave were simple: "Crorey, make it up."
A decade later, I can determine for myself now whether something at work is important or urgent, and I take it much more in stride. I had almost forgotten that helpless feeling.
The bees reminded me. When I accidentally dropped the box in the bed of my truck, I was panicked. How much did I just damage the hive? Can the frames/honey/brood/comb/queen take that kind of shock? What should I do? (Since panicking doesn't seem to be helping, how about calming down?)
And each successive victory comes with a huge sigh of relief - and a little bit of joy. The moment when I opened the top and everyone seemed to be OK, a huge grin creases my face. The moment when the sun warms the bees up and they start flying around the hive, I almost giggle. The moment when the returning workers are loaded down with pollen, my spirit soars.
I gave the bees two days to get used to the new location before placing the frames in the new box. In the meantime, Kathe had helped decorate the hive box, using a figure from the Madrid Codex - one of the four pre-contact Maya documents that have survived.
When I moved the bees into their permanent home, it went perfectly. I found the queen (YAY!). The workers had already started to modify the cardboard box into their own space (which means that they are healthy and busy) by building burr comb, already attached to the sides and top of the pasteboard box. The ladies were coming back from the woods with lots of pollen attached to their legs, and are communicating with all the others where to get more. They seem to like the new space in my backyard, and are adapting to it.
Kathe got some cool video of the transfer (yes, she actually got pretty close!), and there were no real incidents. I struggled a little to get the remainder of the girls out of the old box and into the new one, but even that went off pretty smoothly. And I am, of course, fretting about the placement. Did I put the frames in a different order? Does it matter? Should I have put the uncapped honey next to the brood....
And then I notice the beetles. Lots of little beetles in the box. Maybe a dozen or so of them, all scurrying for cover.
Here is where I really don't know what to do. There are serious things that can infest bee hives. Foulbrood can only be addressed by burning the hive. Varroa mites can kill off your hive (and infest adjacent ones, too) if they get out of control, but they are present in every hive out there. Wax moths are detrimental to the health of your hive. Tracheal mites, too.
And small hive beetles.
For some reason, I did not listen as well in the workshop when they were talking about hive beetles. And I can't remember why. Was it because they are not as deadly?
I went to the internet for my answer.
Now Best Beloved, if you have a concern, going to the internet is the worst idea possible. The hive mind of the internet (see what I did there?) is pure Eeyore. No matter how many good things are going on, Eeyore will see the potential down side, and see how everything is about to go wrong.
So.... after reading one site after another that explains to me how my hive is doomed, and exactly what the beetles and their demonspawn offspring would do to my hive, I panicked. (The larvae eat the honeybee brood. The larvae eat the honey and defile it in the process. The larvae can overtake the hive. American honeybees cannot resist, and die under the onslaught. Save yourselves!)
Yep, I panicked. Again. And this time, Bobby and Vic could do nothing to help me.
After putting as many beetles as I could find in a jar of vinegar, I gave the guy who sold me the beetles, um, I mean, bees, a call. He reassured me that the best way to keep the beetles under control was to encourage a strong colony. That they weren't really the problem I was imagining them to be.
Then again, that is what you would expect him to say. He sold me that pig; of course any problems with the pig are of no consequence. Some pig, huh?
Eventually, I got in touch with another beekeeper in the area that I had met at the workshop.
"Naw, man, hive beetles are everywhere - everybody's got them. You only got to worry about them if you have a bunch."
Um, well, what is a lot? I just don't know whether three is a lot or five thousand....
Over the next half hour, we discussed both treatment options and diagnosing, and by the end of the conversation, I was reassured as to the nature and severity of the problem. As well as the solution (involving brushing off the bees from each frame and then shaking the beetles off and KILLING them.) Just talking it through with someone who knew made all the difference.
Yes. I have a problem. The consequences of having the problem are low. So I mostly just need to do what is best for the hive.
In the final analysis, it might be better to worry than to be apathetic. I certainly learned something because I worried enough to research a solution. But it certainly is more stressful.
Now I just have to figure out how to cage Eeyore more effectively....
Sting count: 0
So when I discovered a problem with my bees, I fretted, and flashed back to my first days on the job as project manager at the Corps of Engineers.
I had no idea what I was doing. It was terrifying. In addition to managing my projects, I was asked daily, it seemed, to provide some information in response to a request from somebody, somewhere up the chain of command. Much of the time, there was little by way of instructions to go on, and other times there would be a thousand pages of guidance for one page of data requested.
Nowhere in any of the guidance did it say how important the requested information was. Does Western Civilization's continued existence depend on the accuracy of these data? (Certainly not.) Will my project get canceled if I don't submit the right information? (Maybe....) I had a hard time separating out the URGENT from the IMPORTANT. My friends Vic Landry and Bobby Duplantier both helped mentor me through these rough patches. Sometimes it was just a matter of calming me down, other times it was explaining what was required, and sometimes the instructions they gave were simple: "Crorey, make it up."
A decade later, I can determine for myself now whether something at work is important or urgent, and I take it much more in stride. I had almost forgotten that helpless feeling.
The bees reminded me. When I accidentally dropped the box in the bed of my truck, I was panicked. How much did I just damage the hive? Can the frames/honey/brood/comb/queen take that kind of shock? What should I do? (Since panicking doesn't seem to be helping, how about calming down?)
 |
| Image of the Madrid Codex Bee Almanac stolen from the FAMSI website |
I gave the bees two days to get used to the new location before placing the frames in the new box. In the meantime, Kathe had helped decorate the hive box, using a figure from the Madrid Codex - one of the four pre-contact Maya documents that have survived.
When I moved the bees into their permanent home, it went perfectly. I found the queen (YAY!). The workers had already started to modify the cardboard box into their own space (which means that they are healthy and busy) by building burr comb, already attached to the sides and top of the pasteboard box. The ladies were coming back from the woods with lots of pollen attached to their legs, and are communicating with all the others where to get more. They seem to like the new space in my backyard, and are adapting to it.
 |
| Deep hive, with Kathe's design. |
And then I notice the beetles. Lots of little beetles in the box. Maybe a dozen or so of them, all scurrying for cover.
Here is where I really don't know what to do. There are serious things that can infest bee hives. Foulbrood can only be addressed by burning the hive. Varroa mites can kill off your hive (and infest adjacent ones, too) if they get out of control, but they are present in every hive out there. Wax moths are detrimental to the health of your hive. Tracheal mites, too.
And small hive beetles.
For some reason, I did not listen as well in the workshop when they were talking about hive beetles. And I can't remember why. Was it because they are not as deadly?
I went to the internet for my answer.
Now Best Beloved, if you have a concern, going to the internet is the worst idea possible. The hive mind of the internet (see what I did there?) is pure Eeyore. No matter how many good things are going on, Eeyore will see the potential down side, and see how everything is about to go wrong.
So.... after reading one site after another that explains to me how my hive is doomed, and exactly what the beetles and their demonspawn offspring would do to my hive, I panicked. (The larvae eat the honeybee brood. The larvae eat the honey and defile it in the process. The larvae can overtake the hive. American honeybees cannot resist, and die under the onslaught. Save yourselves!)
Yep, I panicked. Again. And this time, Bobby and Vic could do nothing to help me.
After putting as many beetles as I could find in a jar of vinegar, I gave the guy who sold me the beetles, um, I mean, bees, a call. He reassured me that the best way to keep the beetles under control was to encourage a strong colony. That they weren't really the problem I was imagining them to be.
Then again, that is what you would expect him to say. He sold me that pig; of course any problems with the pig are of no consequence. Some pig, huh?
Eventually, I got in touch with another beekeeper in the area that I had met at the workshop.
"Naw, man, hive beetles are everywhere - everybody's got them. You only got to worry about them if you have a bunch."
Um, well, what is a lot? I just don't know whether three is a lot or five thousand....
Over the next half hour, we discussed both treatment options and diagnosing, and by the end of the conversation, I was reassured as to the nature and severity of the problem. As well as the solution (involving brushing off the bees from each frame and then shaking the beetles off and KILLING them.) Just talking it through with someone who knew made all the difference.
Yes. I have a problem. The consequences of having the problem are low. So I mostly just need to do what is best for the hive.
In the final analysis, it might be better to worry than to be apathetic. I certainly learned something because I worried enough to research a solution. But it certainly is more stressful.
Now I just have to figure out how to cage Eeyore more effectively....
Sting count: 0
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