What’s the buzz?

Not so long ago, my sweetheart moved a used mobile home from Killeen to his lot in Waco. He had noticed that there were a lot of bees around when he moved it, but he thought sure that they would fly away somewhere along the highway, and many of them did. But these bees were persistent, and within a few weeks of the home being relocated they had re-established a hive of massive proportions. Perhaps they were inspired by the deaths of their comrades on I35.

Soon we were unable to mow anywhere near the home and could see a bulging ball of bees hanging down under the threshold to the back door. They started a guerrilla war against anyone walking out of the back door of the office. They had an organized infiltration campaign as well, sending scouts into the office and our vehicles to gather intelligence. The little terrorists were everywhere.

We found a gentleman in the area who would come and capture them. He was a dedicated bee keeper, and would be taking them to one of his apprentice apiarists to start a hive. When he showed up, we were surprised to find that he was getting on in years, probably an octogenarian, but still very spry. He wore the obligatory white beekeeping outfit with a screened pith helmet and had brought his bee capturing tools. Included in these was a bee vacuum that he used to suck the bees off the hive. As he began to work, more and more bees swarmed around him, attempting to attack him, his truck, his equipment, and anything that they thought could possibly be a threat in their agitated state. My sweetheart and I bravely waited in the truck with the windows rolled up, watching him work.

Despite his advanced age, he diligently removed three full five-gallon buckets of honey comb and bees that he will be taking back to his home and installing in hive boxes. When he finished he was covered with angry bees, clinging to his white clothing in a desperate attempt to sting him. He will also strain the honey which he sells for a few dollars per jar as a sweet organic treat. I don’t even like honey, but I am totally inspired to learn about beekeeping now. Maybe I could become one of his apprentices.

Throughout the rest of that day, the few remaining stragglers vented their anger on us, angrily buzzing in our faces and desperately looking for somewhere to alight. They were like an army of little Jean Valjeans traipsing about looking for sous to steal and a warm place to sleep.

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