This couldn’t bee happening

Today was one of those days where you get a lot done and yet can’t name anything you did. There was vacuuming and laundry (of course) and getting gas in the car and wrapping a present or two but what really happened today – who knows… I was pulling clothes off the line when I heard a faint buzzing sound. I looked over my shoulder where I saw quite a few bees flying around a tree, which phased me none because I am team “save the honey bees” and all. But then I looked down and saw a huge chunk of honeycomb and lots and lots and lots more bees.

Now I am oddly equipped with the knowledge that soapy water will effectively bring down the bees and a wet vac will remove them. (Kids, of course DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, I AM A SEMI- (not at all) PROFESSIONAL). Our neighbor is highly allergic to bee stings and fortified with that information I decided to go into termination mode. One bucket of soapy water, plus the actual bucket to enclose it and I was nearly golden. I was getting ready to clean up the carnage and congratulate myself on my contribution to keeping the neighborhood safe when I heard more buzzing.

When I looked up, I had a flashback to every time anyone has ever explained icebergs to me and realized that the massive chunk I had “saved” the block from was merely a piece of a much larger problem. This hive was gigantic and multilayered and I knew enough to know I would need reinforcement. My husband, never one to say no to a challenge (except the polar bear plunge of course) didn’t skip a beat before declaring that we were going to need more foam and the kids super soakers.

Now, I know that the logical move would have been to call a bee removal specialist, wait it out until they arrived, take out a second mortgage on the house to pay for it and be done with the problem. But I ask you; would that solution result in two otherwise competent adults wielding a shop-vac/garbage can/super soaker combination while avoiding kamikaze fallout and angry swarms? No. No it would not.

After the hive was removed I primarily felt two things 1)I felt like I massacred an entire community, which in fact I did. That is something I will have to reconcile with because I primarily live by a code of doing no harm and this ran completely counter to that. I read online that honeybees don’t sting and after today I wanted to write an email to that article writer to inform them of my findings…’cause they do sting. Also 2)I felt like a savior, because I cannot imagine if the kids had accidently kicked a soccer ball into a tree and that had fallen on them, or if the dog chased a squirrel or raccoon up the tree and knocked it down or if it had landed on the other side of the fence and terrified our neighbor. The dualism is real, I promise.

In the end it was about more than bees and safety and the ethical skirmish that exists in us all. (Whaaaaaat? There was more to it than that?! Yes. ) There is nothing could compare to the feeling I felt when I looked over at this guy, my guy, ever in my corner, always willing to be on my team, no matter what came our way. I can’t speak for the bees but I can say that for me, that made the entire ordeal worth it.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “This couldn’t bee happening

  1. I absolutely loved this post. I could picture you in my mind, standing tall. With a cape flying in the breezes behind, you a mask on your face to hide your identity and the hose of your shop vac held in your utility belt. Then an aberrant breeze blows the cape back over your shoulder and covers your face. (Sorry, that last bit just had to come out, couldn’t be any other way.). Butenuff said, cuz you are my hero. I’m terrified of bees and the whole thing about non-stinging honey bees doesn’t cut it with me. Had I been in your yard, you would not have seen any movement. You simply turn around and find me inside, with doors and windows closed.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I absolutely loved this post. I could picture you in my mind, standing tall. With a cape flying in the breezes behind, you a mask on your face to hide your identity and the hose of your shop vac held in your utility belt. Then an aberrant breeze blows the cape back over your shoulder and covers your face. (Sorry, that last bit just had to come out, couldn’t be any other way.). Butenuff said, cuz you are my hero. I’m terrified of bees and the whole thing about non-stinging honey bees doesn’t cut it with me. Had I been in your yard, you would not have seen any movement. You simply turn around and find me inside, with doors and windows closed.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I wanna know why G didn’t come running with soapy water in a super soaker when we had bees? I mean, yeah, we got a phone number and a $450 quote, but where were my peeps and their life risking activities?

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s