All around, it was a nice day. Breezy, but nice. The bees were out and about with an ordered chaos of neurotic flights of toing and froing. Leaving the bees to do their thing, I set to work on getting a garden-to-be fenced off from the hounds. I would equate a hound’s stalking of good-smells-in-the-ground to that of an anteater. The anteater, as seen in many a nature programs, will find a termite nest and then set to work on determined pursuit of its quarry. Hounds are likes that; except, we do not have termite mounds in Northern Minnesota.
I am somewhat proud of the new hound-retention-fence. Mainly because it has a touch of my childhood in it. The pickets and some of the dimensional lumber have all been repurposed. The lumber started out (after being trees, of course) as my parents’ fence. In about 1980 (two things on the date: my father will correct me if I am wrong, and second, he will tell me a story about the fence) my father put the fence in to keep my sister, and then me, from leaving the yard. By the mid-1990s, the fence posts were rotting and the fence need some help. Having come from a long line of pack-rats, my father saved the non-rotted boards (yes, I have inherited this want-keep-things thing, too). Fifteen years later, my father loaded up the fence pickets and some resurfaced dimensional lumber into the truck on the last visit. So, my new fence is not really a new fence – it is a repurposed use of the fence from my childhood.
I hate to admit it, but I spilled some bees this evening. I would guess it happens to beeks now and again. I tore a good chunk of my index finger’s nail off last week, and the nail-bed is still tender. Holding on to things tightly is somewhat painful and awkward. I dropped a container of jelly beans at work because of this, and now I dropped or "spilled" a frame of bees.
I was out checking the frames for wax draw-out. Indeed, there was wax. Two of the frames were slightly too close to one another, and those spicy Italians had built a wax bridge across the void between the frames. That needed to be cleared out. With the frame in my right hand, and my hive tool in my left, I scraped the wax out of the way. In fumbling with the tool and trying to get the frame back into the super, I fumbled and spilled the bees. It was really unnerving and I felt like such a fool. Using my hive tool as a scoop, I managed to get most of the bees back into the super, or at least directly on the landing platform at the entrance. I am relatively certain the queen was doing her thang on another frame. I did manage to get a couple photos (pre-spill) of some wax comb being drawn out. Very excited to see this; it is what I was hoping to have going on in the hive.