Oriole In The Bee Equipment

Ug, I'm getting a backlog of blogging and I'm leaving for another festival tomorrow...prepare for a blogging explosion next week. I was supposed to go out and get to dividing Olga into a second beehive, but was WAY too distracted by birds. There were six, count 'em six, indigo buntings on Mr. Neil's feeders--among all the rose-breasted grosbeaks. Not to mention yellow-rumped warblers jockeying for position on the suet feeder. I was trying desperately to concentrate and focus on bees, not digiscoping birds. I went to the garage to the bee equipment shelves.

I heard a rustling and then looked up. There on the top shelf was a male Baltimore oriole. How can I focus on bees when the birds are forcing me to watch them? I opened up the garage doors figuring that he would fly out. Instead, he ran behind the equipment and hid.

Yo, dude, that's not the best hiding spot. The oriole eventually came out from hiding, but instead of flying out the wide open doors, kept flying into closed windows. I took one of the nets from one of our bee hats and tossed it on the not so bright oriole and grabbed it.

Boy, that bander's grip does come in handy. I gave him a look over and he was fiesty--that was good, he didn't hit the windows too hard. He had bent the tip of his beak a tiny bit, but was otherwise okay. He started whistling in my hand--man, could you feel the power of that song--that's a lotta whistle coming from a tiny bird.

I gave him to Lorraine to release and he was off. He preened a bit, roused, and then flew down to the grape jelly. A side door was open on the garage, so he must have flown in that way, probably going after what few insects are out and about.

A Simple Plan

Hello, all, NBB here again.

First off, big ups to my fabulous wife and her kick-ass team from Swarovski for winning first place in digiscoping at the World Series of Birding.

As for myself, having successfully made the backyard safe for brown birds, I trudged off to feed and inspect our two new hives. Both Kelli and Mimi were very active, and in Kelli's case, perhaps a little too active...

I found this after opening the lid of the hive to change the pail of nectar we give the bees to give them a head-start on the season. These cells had been constructed between the outer wall of the hive and the lip of the room. I'm assuming this is the work of the bees, but Sharon will know for sure. I wondered how far Kelli had gone in constructing comb inside the hive, but decided not to investigate further, as the weather was turning dark and cloudy, so I was keen to get moving.

As I say, both hives were very active, chomping down the pollen patties we gave them and sweet, sweet sugar water. There was a lot of activity outside the hives as well, in fact, here you can see a Mimi bee coming back into the hive with pollen baskets on her legs! This is great news and shows that even in this early, cold spring, the bees are hard at work, gathering pollen on their own, even when it's being provided for them. Again, I didn't open the hive to see if Mimi was doing any cell construction.

Mimi and Kelli taken care of, it was time for the main mission: Olga. Next week Sharon will be splitting the Olga hive, taking one of the boxes and putting in a new queen: Kitty III. To do this, we have to get a box of brood (eggs) and make sure that Queen Olga isn't in that box, otherwise she and Kitty III will fight to the death. In bees, like the great films that have crummy sequels, there can be only one.

Neil, though just back from a trip to Australia, joined me for the pre-split, and got this really cool picture while I ran back to get a frame holder. I'm not sure if this bee is dancing (which they do to communicate), but it sure looks neat.

So, the long and the short of the plan is this: inspect the top two boxes and make sure they each have at least 5-7 frames of brood. Then, place a queen excluder between the top two boxes. When Sharon comes out next week, whichever box has new larvae in it must be the box with the queen, thereby saving us the trouble of having to find her. Simple, right?

Small problem: the top box had no brood in it. Nothing. Not a sausage. Just honey and miffed bees. I was already in enough trouble for letting a colorful bird come to a feeder. How was I going to explain this?

We inspected the second box and found 5 frames of brood. Now, at this point I could have called Sharon, who was in the middle of about 14 hours of digiscoping. But we could see down into the bottom box and what seemed to be brood, so Neil and I decided to Deviate From The Plan.

In what I mentally dubbing Operation: Honey, It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time, We placed the bottom box on top, the empty box in the middle, and the middle box on the bottom, placing the Queen Excluder between the top two boxes.

This would, we hoped, accomplish what we were trying to do before: making sure that a) the queen would be in one of the two segments and unable to get into the other brood box, and b) since bees build up when making brood, if the queen was in the bottom box, the empty middle would give her room to grow.

And that was that. Part of what I find fascinating working with bees is that on one hand, they're like little machines, working industrially, each one doing her job, a cog. On the other hand, they're living creatures--both as individuals and as a hive--and act in unexplainable ways. Olga bees have a propensity for building feral comb that folds out from the hive frame, whereas Kitty didn't. It's especially odd to me that you can walk out in the middle of the day and literally take their home apart, when they live and work in darkness, and most of them will ignore you completely. Such odd little things.

Sharon will be out next week to survey the hives and figure out what needs to be done. Having explained what we did, she said she probably would have left the hive as it was, but that the best thing to do was not to reverse our work, but to leave the bees alone. And she's right; the work we do with reversals and such helps them in terms of what we want them to do (make honey), but really, the girls can work things out on their own. As long as the idiot drones don't get in the way.

Spring Bee Inspection

On Sunday, we did our first big inspection with the Olga hive after having sealed her up for winter and my goodness was she active! With the sun and balmy forty something degree temperatures, we expected some activity, but they were buzzing around like crazy. I didn't realize how much I missed them, missed the smell of the smoker, the smell of the wax and hive, the buzz and hum of happy bees.

Here's my faithful bee assistant poking the bees during the inspection. Actually, Mr. Neil is not poking the bees, he's doing them a great service of removing a layer of dead bees that have built up at the bottom of the hive. There were so many that they were blocking the bottom entrance.

Look at that pile of dead bees. That's really just the tip of the iceberg. We decided to lift the whole hive off the bottom board...

Ewww - a whole layer of dead, wet bees. We were a little alarmed to find that in the corner was a frozen puddle of bees. After Mr. Neil scraped out the bees, we decided to turn the hive around so that future moisture would be able to roll out, rather than collect in the hive. We did leave a hole open on the other side so that workers who were out foraging could find a way back in without too much confusion.

Part of the inspection included checking their food reserves. I had put in a pollen patty a couple of weeks ago (that's how bees get their protein). Last time, there was half of the one I left them last fall and I put in a fresh one for good measure. Sunday, there was only half of the fresh one left. I have a feeling that next weekend I will need to put in a new one. We checked for signs of brood. If there were three to six frames with brood, I was to switch the top box with the center box. I found three frames of brood, not a huge amount, but brood none the less. We went ahead and switched them.

Olga still had some good honey stores left--I think she's going to be busting out all over with honey this summer. She already provided us with extra honey her first year. I'm betting this summer will be intense. We noticed a weakness in the corner of the hive that had let in some moisture, probably from the last snow storm (the wind blew off the insulation and since it had been fairly warm we left it off). You can see it in the corner--the mold is the black stuff. The bees were probably soon going to cover the fungus with propolis, but we scraped it off.

While we were getting all of this done, the workers came out and completely covered us. Above is Non Birding Bill (say it like Eddie Izzard with me) "Covered In Bees!" Even though they covered us, they didn't really seem all that angry, they were more curious (I'd like to say, happy to see us, but that would be anthropomorphic now, wouldn't it).

We kept smoking our suits, but they would just come right back. Above, NBB is smoking Mr. Neil. For some reason, Mr. Neil decided to start our bee-venture by forgoing the sensible hood on his suit and putting on our spare pith helmet with bee net. It looked good, but left a space on his neck for bees to crawl in, so after much smoking and removal of bees, he put on his helmet.

The bees were really, really interested in the tops of our hoods. I noted this on Mr. Neil and NBB and tried to get them to pose bent over side by side because, together they looked like an odd pair of boobs with nipples made of bees, but when they realized what I was doing, they stood up.

After we finished, I stood by them for a few more minutes, just watching them come and go. I love the above shot, a few girl hanging at the corner of the hive and another flying in.

Bee season has officially begun.

Whoot!

And to give you an idea of how loud our girls are on a forty degree spring day, here's a video. NBB says that if you listen to it with your eyes closed, it sounds like we're doing something naughty.

Bees & Owls

When you're sick as a dog, your friends will blog. Mr. Neil did the beekeeping entry this week! When we learned that the Kitty hive had died, we decided to keep her honey for ourselves rather than give it to Olga (on the off chance Kitty died from some bee disease). So, this week Mr. Neil undertook that monumental task of extracting Kitty honey. He used the simple (and sticky) cheesecloth method.

Meanwhile, I've been trying to catch up on all the work I missed last week. Ugh. Tomorrow, I plan on going out and birding the crap out of Sunday. Perhaps, take my Fuji out for one last hurrah before my new digiscoping camera arrives. Today, I stepped out for an hour to peak at a great horned owl nest that Ecobirder has blogged about. It's a busy intersection in the south metro, across from a strip mall. The owls are remarkably obvious when you drive by.

There are two owls in the above photo. Can you spot them? If you can't see them, check out the photo below:

The female was on the nest and the male was hanging out towards the center of the tree. Normally, the males are well hidden, but I'm not gonna argue a good look at a great horned owl. If he doesn't want to behave the way books say he's supposed to behave, who am I to tell him what to do?

You could see the female on the nest through the scope, but it was pretty much a vent side (aka butt side) view of her.

The male was much easier to see and a welcome treat for sore eyes that had been holed up indoors for the past week.

Kitty Hive RIP

Alas, the fear I had this past fall has been realized, the Kitty Hive has failed. The above photo is the last one I have of the hive alive. On January 1, I could hear some activity in the hive, but I have put my ear up to Kitty twice in the last two weeks and both times the hive has been silent. I had hoped it was just that they were tucked deep inside, but today we got confirmation. Mr. Neil checked the hives this afternoon and with the warm weather, the Olga hive was dumping out dead bees and pooping. The snow around her hive was completely melted. Kitty was silent with no visible activity and the snow was not melted around the hive. He opened the roof, looked in and found all bees inside to be dead (on the upside, that's not Colony Collapse Disorder).

I think it all started with my mistake of preventing the swarm, that led to a late requeening and having too few bees to keep the hive warm for the winter. Sigh.

We expected complete failure our first year, and were pleased as punch that we got as far as we did this fall, including harvesting a wee bit of honey from Olga. But, I still feel bad and will miss our girls. After all, they were the ones who I installed after my initial panic and unlike Olga, none of us have ever been stung by a Kitty bee.

I also got some of my best photos from the Kitty Hive. I loved the above shot of all the Kitty workers coming to lap up a river of honey that surged down a frame when I accidentally opened some cells. Kitty, you taught me lots. I'm sorry we couldn't keep you through the winter.

Indoor Bees

Sunday, when the snow had stopped, Non Birding Bill and I took a stroll (or trudge in snow boots would be a better description of what I do). It was in the teens and you could see the edges of the lake freezing up. This is a popular destination for gulls right before it freezes. Within twenty-four hours after this photo was taken, someone posted on the listservs that the lake had frozen and the gulls have moved on.

Okay, someone had questioned of the sanity of NBB and I taking a walk in the morning in the single digit temps, well this is what we walk in, the Minneapolis Skyway--we can walk for a few miles without taking a step outside, most of the buildings are connected in some way in downtown.

Just kind of think of it as one of those tunneling systems you can get for hamsters. In one two mile stretch, we pass six different Caribou Coffees--and that doesn't include the other coffee shops, I'm sure we pass between 12 - 15 coffee stops. Most of the snow from Saturday has been cleared around, and just in time, tomorrow we are supposed to get an Alberta Clipper and another 2-3 inches in my neighborhood. I hope it holds off, there's been a report of a great gray owl in Hastings, and I'd like to go look for it after my shift at The Raptor Center tomorrow.

I found some photos that I took last Friday that I took at Hyland--they have an indoor beehive. Mr. Neil and I have kicked around the idea of an indoor hive but have no clue as to how to maintain it without letting bees run amok in his house. I talked to the staff there about how they maintained the hive. They said that because it's such a small box, you have to feed the bees all winter--there's a top compartment, that's kind of an ante chamber so you can put the food there, there's a hole for the bees to access the food from inside, so very few if any get out. So, essentially, these indoor hives appear to be educational tools and conversation pieces, not a means to produce honey.

I opened the side to take a look at the bees on the inside, they were moving slow, but they were moving.

There's a little tube that goes from the hive to the outdoors. It was in the teens when I took this photo, so most of the bees were opting to stay in the hive.

A few would work their way down the tunnel and as soon as they got to the edge the hightailed it back to the hive.

They did have one hive by the bird feeders, and unlike our hives, this one wasn't insulted for the winter--another example of how every beekeeper does something different (and I asked, this is a hive the staff plans to overwinter). I suppose bees in the wilds don't have insulation, so I'm sure it's possible for them to survive without it.

Speaking of bees, I got the sweetest gift at the Paper Session on Saturday--blog reader Kathy gave me some of her own honey from Lake Isle of Innisfree Apiaries--Thanks, Kathy!

Cold, Quiet Bees

First, a big shout out to Jennifer Tanner! Thank you so much for sending me the bee song! I love it! I have been listening to it all week. Go to Mirah and Spectratone International and download the song "Community" (it's free and legal). I now imagine the bees singing that while we're working the hives.

There's not a huge amount going on with the bee hives right now. We're feeding them, trying to get the girls fully stocked with honey for the winter. Today, the temps were in the forties and the girls were clustering together for warmth and moving very slowly. I even took a video to show how quiet they are. A month ago there would have been loud buzzing, now there is this:

Very quiet. Compare that to this.

We're feeding them a nectar solution to substitute the current lack of natural nectar sources to build up their stores. Olga is chock full, her hive is very busy, but I'm feeding her anyway because the book says I'm supposed to. Kitty is a different story. We didn't harvest any honey from her hive, but even still she is behind on comb and honey production from swarming this summer. Her hive is light. I don't know. If we have a warm winter with milder temps, she just might make it. But if we have the type of winter this part of the northern United States is known for, I'm afraid we will lose her. Ah well, we're doing all we can to keep her going and the bottom line is that this year is our first year beekeeping and it's all a learning experience.

I will say that Kitty has done an outstanding job of gathering pollen. In this undeveloped comb, you can see on the other side of the comb, all the many colors of pollen that is in the bottom of honey cells.

Since the bees were calm and we were feeding them, I had Mr. Neil try his luck at hand feeding the bees. The bees were happy to feed from his fingers. Non Birding Bill learned from the QI tv show that bees can recognize individual people, so this hand feeding business may prevent future stings. Here's the blurb from the Telegraph:

"Bees can recognise human faces. Given that many humans struggle with this once they have turned 40, it seems utterly remarkable in a creature whose brain is the size of a pinhead. Yet bees who are rewarded with nectar when shown some photos of faces, and not rewarded when shown others, quickly learn to tell the difference. Not that we should read too much into this. Bees don't "think" in a meaningful way. The "faces" in the experiment were clearly functioning as rather odd-looking flowers, not as people they wanted to get to know socially."

In a couple of weeks, I will have to close up the hives for winter. How long this winter will seem without being able to look in on the girls.

Sigh.

MN Pioneer Press Bee Article

We know it's not cell phones, in the scientific community, that was never a possibility.

I really like this article for not being so Chicken Little about it, the way most of the stories about Colony Collapse Disorder have been. You can read the full article at the Pioneer Press, but here is an excerpt:

A new ailment had emerged over the winter, causing bee colonies to mysteriously flee, and fueling scary stories about the vanishing honeybee - and the threat to crops that depend on bees for pollination.

But Minnesota's honeybees are still here. In fact, most honeybees thrived this summer, state beekeepers report. Minnesota's crops were richly pollinated. Apples, berries and pumpkins are abundant. There's even plenty of honey here in America's No. 5 honey-producing state.

David Ellingson, an Ortonville beekeeper and past president of the Minnesota Honey Producers, told Congress this spring about losing 65 percent of his bees while wintering in Texas. Now back in Minnesota, he's still having problems among his 3,400 hives.

"We did see probably 20 percent of our colonies go from excellent to poor, at the end of June and into July," Ellingson said. "Some of them have rebounded, and others have gone away."

Losing bee colonies is one of the gloomy facts of life for beekeepers, and over the years, bee losses have been worsening. Bee mites, viruses and pesticides have taken a toll.

"Twenty-five years ago, if you lost 5 to 7 percent of your bees (during the winter), that would be normal," Ellingson said. "But today, we look at normal as being 20 percent."

"We know it's not cell phones," said Katie Klett, a University of Minnesota bee specialist, who added that, "in the scientific community, that was never a possibility." But it did grab lots of media attention.

Since last spring, scientists have identified an imported virus that appears linked to collapsed colonies. They're also examining a long list of other suspects, including a class of insecticides and an array of bee diseases. Beekeeping practices are coming under scrutiny, too.

"We've got a 50-piece puzzle here, and we've only got 10 pieces that we know are going on," Ellingson said. "There's too many unknowns."

Klett, whose family runs a North Dakota farm breeding queen bees, said it suffered big losses in 2006. Yet 2007 was "the best year we've ever had," she said, with production "through the roof."

So it's a riddle and a concern. Winter will test the state's honeybees again. But thus far, they're hanging tough.

Rolling Bees In Powdered Sugar

Or

How To Make Your Bees Really Angry, Yet Really Popular In The Hive!

Hey, I found a way to soothe a bee sting. Make an apple pie from apples the bees pollinated. That puts you in a forgiving mood.

So, periodically, I have to check the bees for varroa mites. They have actually been a problem for the last 15 years or so and could be part of the problem with Colony Collapse Disorder. They can seriously weaken your colony. And if you're wondering why I don't talk about CCD much in the blog, here's why: every few years, the media likes to find some disease and use it to scare the pants off of us, "this could wipe out the human race" ie SARS, West Nile, Bird Flu, and now CCD. I want to wait and see before I run around like Chicken Little. Anyway, in some recent photos, I thought I was seeing mites on a bee or two. Case in point, check out the bee just emerging from the cell in the above photo. See the brownish spot on top of the head coming out? I'm fairly certain that is a varroa mite.

So, I have two ways for testing for mites. One is getting 250 bees, soaking them in alcohol (killing them), and sifting the dead mites from the dead bees. The other is to fill a jar with 250 bees, put screen over the lid, drop in a tablespoon of powdered sugar, roll the bees around in it (not killing them), and letting them sit for a minute. Apparently, the powdered sugar causes the mites to fall off. After a few minutes, I shake the jar and sugar and mites fall through the screen and I return the sugar coated bees to the hive, mite free...although a tad angry. I decided to go with the powdered sugar method, I'd rather have angry bees than dead bees.

I took out some frames to gather the bees. You're probably wondering how you know when you have 250 bees in a jar? Apparently, one fluid ounce roughly equals 100 bees, so we poured in two and a half ounces of liquid in a jar, marked it with tape. Then we took a bee brush and used that to brush bees into the jar. Once we had them n the jar, we slammed on the lid with the screen, and bonked it to make the bees fall to a pile. Fortunately, we estimated well, and the pile reached the 250 mark. For the record: bees REALLY do not like this at all. I'm pretty sure if someone could translate the buzzing coming from the jar, they would have recorded much profanity and threats of bodily harm.

It's at this point where you pour in the powdered sugar and roll the pile of bees around to get completely coated. Boy, if I thought they were unhappy before, that's nothing compared to this.

You let them sit in there to give the varroa mites a chance to fall off. Isn't this just the coolest photo? It's like you're looking into a tunnel of ghost bees. It's like what you might find in the closet of the movie Poltergeist. It's even freakier when you see this image moving around each other.

After a few minutes we shook the sugar out onto a white plate and we found about three or four varroa mites in each hive. So, we have an infestation, not a bad one and I am choosing not to treat it this fall, but next spring we might take some action, I want read up to see what the latest is. In some areas, the mites are developing a resistance to antibiotics, but there are some other options to look into. So, after the mites are counted, we have to release the sugared bees back to the hive, here's a video, it reminds me of when the ghosts joined the battle in the Lord of the Rings series:

Isn't that freaky. The other workers swarmed around the sugared bees to lick of the sugar. Here's a photo:

The bees get cleaned off fairly quickly. Here's an up close shot:

Now, you may be wondering if powdered sugar causes the mites to slide off, why not dump a bunch all over the hive from time to time? Some bee experts say that powdered sugar gives the bees too much starch and can cause problems. Although, I hear there are some beekeepers who do it with good results. Again, I have all winter to research our options before I make a decision.

Something else interesting we noticed in the Kitty hive, a few of the bees had a yellow mark on them. We did not see this on any of the Olga bees, just Kitty. NBB and I found about four bees with the yellow mark. It almost looks like someone took a tiny paint brush and slapped it down the thorax a la Pepe Le Pew cartoons.

I watched one of the marked bees for sometime, and I'm guessing that it's just some sort of pollen dust pattern. Maybe from going inside a hibiscus? I don't know, any experienced beekeepers have any input?

And I'll end with one more bee video that NBB shot of some workers trying to clean off a bee. It's a really sweet video, the sugared bee almost falls over and the others rush in to lick off the sugar. Maybe they are trying to help or maybe they are taking advantage of the food, but either way, it's cool:

Hello Bee Sting, Goodbye Dignity

It was inevitable. Working with bees I had to be stung sooner or later. I've been kind of dreading it, but I thought it was more the anticipation of the sting as opposed to the sting itself. I learned many lessons today, one being that the anticipation of the sting is not worse that the sting itself. The sting HURTS. One week, I'm hand feeding my bees. The next week, they're stinging me. Women!

So, we have this madcap plan to rid Mr. Neil's woods of invasive exotic plants like buckthorn and garlic mustard and replace it with (mostly) native or at least bird and bee friendly plants. This is a long term project, but the buckthorn must be taken away--more on this later. Today we began the plan by trying to get some bulbs in the ground that will pop up in early spring to aid the bees with pollen and nectar gathering. We got some daffodil, hyacinth, and crocus bulbs on sale and started putting them around the gardens. I had the brilliant idea of planting the bulbs near some of the hives. This wasn't too crazy of an idea, earlier this week I planted some bee friendly trees (red osier dogwood, lilac, and pussy willow). The cool weather has slowed them down a bit, and as along as I kept a good ten feet from the hives, they were okay with our digging.

I had been out the hives earlier today--that's where most of these photos came from. I was feeding Kitty and just checking on Olga. For some reason, the bees were really interested in crawling all over my suit. I thought I must have spilled some home made nectar on my bee suit, but in hindsight, I wondering if they had it in for me from the get go? Especially that one on the far left in the above photo. This little pack of Olga bees looks like they are plotting against. But that one on the end, she has it in for me, she wants to do the stingin'.

I went out with Cabal and began planting my bulbs. It was later in the afternoon and the foraging bees were heading back to the hive. I noticed that I was working under the bee super highway, the spot where bees from both hives descend in the area and then split to go to their respective hives. I figured that if I kept bent over and low to the ground, all should go well and it did.

Then my cell phone rang, it was my sister Terri. I told her that I was standing between the hives, she was honored. I told her that I was sans bee suit and she was really impressed. I continued planting bulbs while on the phone. We caught up and then I noticed Lorraine approaching the bee area. I hung up from my sister and Lorraine paused before coming closer. "Wow, there are a lot of bees." She noted.

I looked over to the Olga hive. In the time I was on the phone with my sister, hundreds of bees had descended on the entrance of the Olga hive. In the instant that I thought I should maybe leave, I felt a prick on my head, just behind my ear, but well into my hair. I realized that I was being stung. It didn't hurt that much in the first instant and I wondered if I really had been stung or if it was a mosquito. Then I heard angry buzzing. Then I felt tremendous pain.

"I've been stung!" I shouted. Lorraine and Cabal looked as though they were about to bolt. "Ow! It's still in my hair! Ow!"

It was still in my hair and I wondered if I was far enough from the hive to avoid attracting the other bees attention? Would they smell the attack pheromone from her sting and come join the party? I couldn't see where I was stung, but I tried to get the bee out, by flicking fingers near the epicenter of the pain. They dying bee buzzed harder and that sent me into a panic and flight mode and I ran towards Lorraine. I'm not sure if when I reached her I tripped and fell or if some twisted response of stop, drop and roll came into play, but I was on the ground thrashing, yelling all the while, "It's still in my hair! I can hear it!"

Lorraine who is at best on uncertain terms with bees to begin with, tried to look at my hair, but my trashing on the ground was making it difficult. I think I had a fear that the bee would get loose from her stinger and get in my ear. I plugged my ear with my finger and rolled over to the other side, giving Lorraine a view of the stung side of my head. Lorraine started stomping on my ponytail. "It's still there!"

It was at this point that Cabal sensed something was amiss and wanted to help. He sensed our panic as I was writhing and squealing on the ground and Lorraine was jumping up and down desperately trying to get a bee out of my hair without actually having to touch it. Cabal wanted to help too, but what could a mere dog do? He barked and whimpered and then began digging at my clothes.

It was at this point I realized the ridiculousness of the situation and just started laughing. Lorraine pulled out the binder holding my ponytail and frantically kept searching for the bee. I could hear more buzzing from my unplugged ear. Every time she would find it, the bee would slip deeper into my hair. It didn't help that the bee was the same color as my hair. Finally, she got it out and then said, "Ah, it's flying at me!"

"That's not the same bee," I warned, "They die after they sting you! That's a different bee!"

She ran. Cabal ran. I ran. We made it to the four runner, but the bees were still chasing us. We took off down the field. We made it a safe distance away, I looked down to my feet and realized I had kicked off my shoes and was barefoot.

"We have to get back to the four runner." Lorraine said nervously, noting how close it was parked to the hives.

"I have to go back to get my shoes and all the planting tools I left behind." I noted.

We got the stuff and headed back to the house. Lorraine asked how my head was. For a moment it would have a warm, almost pleasant sensation, then would come searing pain and then it would go back to a warm sensation again. When we got to the house, Lorraine had to go through my hair to find the sting. She asked where it hurt and the area was getting wider. It didn't help that I have really thick hair to sift through. After some searching, she located the stinger and pulled it out, the waves of throbbing pain ended and I could feel the side of my head and ear swelling slightly. We were both nauseous and had some mint tea to soothe ourselves.

I hope no one in a nearby farm house was watching us from afar.

Ah, dignity, it's sometimes overrated.