Fear the Beard!

Beard of Honeybees (A Swarm)

Sometimes -- even vegetable garden bloggers can hit mental subject roadblocks. It happens to the best of us. And, in my case, it happens to the worst of us. I knew I wanted to write about bees. But you just can't put pen to paper without having some sort of interesting subject matter in mind.

As it turns out -- the bees did all the work for me -- clearing that mental roadblock with one swift buzz.

While I had intended to write about the return of the bright pink Hello Kitty themed hive box -- I needed more than that. I wrote about Hello Kitty years ago. It's old news. Yeah -- I keep bees in a box painted bright pink with a Hello Kitty character stenciled on the side. What's so weird about that? Doesn't everybody do that?

The Return of the Hello Kitty Hive Box

As it turns out -- the honeybees I keep in two brightly painted hive boxes (pink and yellow) did all the hard work for me. They did what bees naturally do. The queen inside one of those colonies did such a fantastic job at laying eggs that the colony grew far too large for the multiple boxes I had assembled. And when a colony grows too large for the space it occupies: it swarms. That swarm is pictured above, right. And, yes, that's a closeup on my part. Bees that swarm rarely sting, and the swarm came from one of the most gentle colonies I've ever had the pleasure of keeping.

This is how new colonies are born or created in the wild. Normally, bees swarm in the spring or early summer. While it's not uncommon for colonies to swarm in the summer, it is rare. In most cases the queen stopped laying eggs weeks ago. I just hope she gets started up again to rebuild colony strength. Because, the unfortunate thing about swarms is this: about half the colony vanishes in the space of a day or two.

Second Hive Box with Bees "Bearding" in Front

That equals into a dramatic loss in honey production -- if you're keeping honeybees for such a thing.

I literally had to start over this year. The colony I'd nursed for the better part of two years, gifted to me by another beekeeper who got out of the business, up and vanished on me last winter. I didn't see much activity out of that hive in December after freezing weather set in. That got me worried. When spring finally rolled around and the weather warmed, a hive check revealed the worst of news. The colony was long gone.

I'll be honest, I missed them. A yard without an active box of pollinators around is an empty yard. It's a quiet yard. Once you've kept bees for a year or two, you're hooked. It's tough to live without them. One would think a beekeeper would get tired of excited bees whizzing to and fro and thonking into the back of one's head. Not so. They are like children. And when children leave, it gets quiet. Too quiet.

Hive Boxes-Face to Face-Shaded by Wisteria

I would come to discover that last year was a particularly nasty year for beekeepers -- and not just hobbyists like myself. When I discovered that one of the most experienced members of the Sacramento Area Beekeepers Association (SABA) reported the loss of 100 colonies, I suddenly didn't feel so bad about losing my single, solitary hive. Honeybee loss hits everyone equally -- from the very experienced to the novice bonehead like myself.

I could have taken several actions to acquire new colonies. I could have purchased a package of bees plus a queen -- but I'm not a fan of that approach. There's no guarantee that the queen you're purchasing is a strong one, and the process of introducing a new queen to a colony is tricky. If you don't know what you're doing (SEE: BILL BIRD), the queen can get killed during the introduction process.

Swarm in a Nearby Pluot Tree

The second approach, which is the cheapest one I might add, is waiting for an established, wild colony to swarm. Colonies that swarm in the spring often come from strong hives that feature strong queens, which means there's a good chance that the swarm will contain a nice young, strong queen as well. The problem with this approach is waiting for the phone to ring. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn't. You've also got to be prepared for a swarm call 24/7. Since I work full-time, bee hunting availability is at a premium.

The third option, which I chose this spring after getting a very nice offer from a very nice SABA member, is called a "Nuc Transfer." This involves the transfer of a queen, several frames of bees and several frames of honey to an existing hive box. The attractive offer came from SABA Treasurer Kate Morton, after I'd moaned about the loss of my colony the previous winter.

Honeybees "Bearding" in Front of Hive Box

"You want bees," she asked? "I have bees." When she quoted me a price so ridiculously low, I couldn't shout "SOLD" fast enough. I probably shouldn't be telling her this. She'll probably try to sell me another colony or three.

Sure enough -- her assurances of strong hives and strong queens were not empty promises. The swarm pictures included in this blog posting are proof of that. What initially started as three frames of bees in a small box -- something we call a "honey super" -- turned into three boxes stacked on top of one another overnight. Both queens were laying eggs at record rates. While I thought there was a chance one or both colonies might swarm, I also believed the addition of a true hive box at the bottom would prevent it.

Hah! Fat chance! Another boneheaded beekeeping move on my part. Add another one to a very long list.

Honeybee Collecting Siam Queen Basil Pollen

While I'd like to tell you that I kept and hived that swarm for myself, I'm not the best liar in the country. First and foremost, I've already tested the patience of nearby neighbors more than enough. Two colonies are fine. A third would be a little much. And while the City of Sacramento does encourage hobbyist beekeeping efforts, they also want beekeepers to limit the number of hives to just two. Two is exactly what I have. Adding a third, no matter how badly I wanted them, wouldn't have been the best of ideas.

Besides -- there's a popular poem regarding swarms that take place during the month of July. I didn't invent this. I'm not sure who did. But to beekeepers across the country -- and the world for that matter -- it's almost like a passage from the bible:

“A Swarm in May is worth a load of hay

A Swarm in June is worth a silver spoon

A Swarm in July ain’t worth a fly.”

Fear The Beard!

Why are swarms that take place in May or June more desirable than those in July? It has to do with pollen production, and the ability of a colony to gather enough pollen to produce enough honey stores for the winter months. In many areas of the country, pollen production begins to dry up in July. The harder pollen is to find -- the harder it is for the bees to make honey. And if a colony can't produce honey -- it's doomed. It will not survive the winter.

But that didn't stop a beekeeper from Loomis from making the trip down to our North Natomas farm to take a chance on this swarm. Like many beekeepers, this particular gentleman had retired from the rat race that is full-time work to take on the full-time hobby of beekeeping. My swarm, which sprang from Kate's bees, are now his colony.

Best of luck to the little buggers. I will miss them.

POSTSCRIPT:

If you're thinking the hobbyist beekeeper route might be the life for you -- I cannot stress the importance of belonging to a member organization like the Sacramento Area Beekeepers Association. Here you will find the meetings and helpful people who are essential to getting started. And they will more than welcome you to the club as there's always room for more. Please feel free to drop by the SABA booth at the upcoming State Fair! You just might run into the wife that is Venus and her kook of a husband. Sample free honey! See honeybees in a glass enclosed demonstration hive! The SABA booth is always a top draw for kids and parents alike.

Mind Your Own Beeswax!!!

Beehive Display: California State Fair

This just happens to be one of my favorite lines that sprang from manning the "Bee Booth" at the California State Fair this past Monday. Though it was a Monday afternoon, and things were a tad slow on the fairgrounds, it didn't stop the kids from coming inside to check out a display case of live bees, ask questions and get a tasting of several different types of honey.

It's that special glass display case to your upper right that garnered most of the interest. It's a representation of a small bee city inside that glass case. The kids were surprised to learn that most hives were far larger -- containing anywhere from ten to 20 frames instead of the two frames pictured inside that case.

Beekeeping Booth: California State Fair

I like working with kids when it comes to bees. The kids are fascinated by the show and the honey -- and come armed with lots of questions. Thank goodness they have someone like me around -- as I would respond with the following answers:

Question: "Will those bees sting?"

Answer: "Why don't you put your hand in there and find out."

Question: "What happens if you open the top of that display case?"

Answer: "I don't know. Let's find out, shall we?"

Honey Samples at CA State Fair Booth

Question: "Where should I keep bees? The backyard?"

Answer: "No, the best place is your bedroom."

Question: "Are bees friendly?"

Answer: "Of course! They just told me that they want to go home with you!"

Question: "Why does the Queen have a dot of yellow paint on her?"

Answer: "That's not paint. It's her mood ring. Just wait and see what happens when it turns red."

Editor's Note: Somewhere, someone with the Sacramento Area Beekeeping Association (SABA) is firing off a nasty email to the President with the following report: "NEVER LET BILL BIRD ANYWHERE NEAR THE STATE FAIR BEEKEEPING BOOTH AGAIN!!!!"

Venus Dishes the Honey

I can't blame them...

All kidding aside, the booth experience proved to be far more enjoyable than I ever could have imagined. There are lots of activities, sights, sounds, foods, experiences, etc. that can grab a child's attention. But, even the attraction of chocolate covered bacon or a deep-fried twinkie couldn't overcome the fascination that resulted from a two-frame display of living, breathing, buzzing, bees.

As I stood there, talking with both parents and children alike, it struck me that I've come a long way in this now three-plus year experiment in beekeeping. It brought back long ago memories of running from a single, solitary bee that had taken a liking to the hive frames I'd kept stacked in the garage, waiting for my first colony of bees to arrive. How could I keep an entire colony if I was scared of one, single, solitary bee?

The Infamous Neon Pink Hello Kitty Hive

From those first, halting steps, somehow I'd emerged as an experienced beekeeper. When did this happen? Did this transformation take place after I captured and hived my first wild swarm? When I first procured honey from the backyard hive? Perhaps when I added the second hive to the Bird Back 40?

Overnight I've gone from someone asking the questions to the person providing the answers. When did this happen? I suppose it comes from the experience of working a hive on your own for the very first time. I suppose it comes from the experience of watching a mass of annoyed bees suddenly erupting from a hive towards my face after a long and not so comfortable trip in the car.

At some point in time the wife that is Venus and I went from cautious beginners to actual beekeepers. I'm just trying to figure out exactly when this happened. Perhaps it was the joy of watching Lenny, our 14 lb. Maine Coon Kitten, learn a very hard lesson that paws should never be stuck into the front of a hive opening?

Or perhaps it's the despair of realizing that you've lost yet another hive to Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD), and wondering what you did wrong, if anything. There's nothing more distressing than discovering an empty hive that is packed with honey stores for the winter. Why did they up and leave all this behind? Perhaps it's the vow to never let it happen again?

Dave Mason Concert: CA State Fair

There's nothing more pleasing, in my opinion, than watching a hive at work in the backyard. You enjoy them while they are there. You miss them when they are gone. It's one reason why that once you become a beekeeper, you'll always be a beekeeper.

One hive is never enough. Two is twice as nice. Perhaps that idea of a third colony in the bedroom isn't such a bad idea after all.

Why is This Man Smiling?

Happy Honey Extractor at Work

His incredible weight loss secrets perchance? Mmmm....NO!

The wife that is Venus is rewarding me with a back rub? No again, since she's taking the picture.

The 49ers are winning? That very well could be, but again, no.

But there is a reason for this grin. I'm rich! I'm fabulously rich and wealthy! Not in money mind you, but in fresh, tasty, straight-from-the-backyard Hello Kitty Beehive, HONEY.

As for the picture above? Yes, that is me. Yes, I could stand to lose more than just a few pounds. But I am seated in front of a strange contraption known as an extractor. I had never heard of an extractor, and never had a use for an extractor until I got this crazy idea in my head some three years ago to manage a beehive.

Pure Honey is a Pretty Sight

How does one procure honey from a hive? One needs an "extractor." What is an extractor? If you combine the mental pictures of a large metal trash can and a ten-speed bike -- that's kind of what it's like. And it's the perfect way to remove large amounts of honey from honey-laden combs like the one pictured to your left in a very short period of time.

That honey capped frame, by the way, comes from the part of the beehive called the "honey super." Why do they call it a "honey super?" Why are you asking these questions? My short and sweet answer is: I have no clue why they call it that. Perhaps because it results in a lot of honey -- and such a development is just "super?"

Probably not.

Scraping Wax Capped Frames of Honey for Extraction

My hand was literally shaking with excitement, by the way, as I used a hard-wire brush to break into the white wax caps that held back a massive flow of golden-rich honey. This was a first for me. I'd never done anything like it before. But the time to procure honey from backyard hives had come and gone. It was late October. The weather had turned cold. Cold temperatures turn honey into the consistency and weight of a wet and sticky cement.

Have you ever tried pouring cement? I have. It ain't easy. It also takes a skill level that I never acquired and probably never will. This is why I don't pour wet cement anymore, unless I'm going to bury it in the form of a fence post for a grape arbor. You'll never see my shoddy cement work. It's buried. You'll only notice it when the fence falls over. Hah!

Neon Pink Hello Kitty Hive

Breaking into the Hello Kitty Hive also contained a surprise that I had not been expecting. Since the weather was cold -- I knew the colony must have clustered. I had not seen nary a bee fly in or out of the hive for about a week. This is normal activity during colder months. Bees cluster in a hive to protect the queen and keep her warm. My hope was that the bees had clustered near the bottom of the hive, which would make retrieval of the honey super that much easier.

That particular super is located at the top of the hive. My hope was I could dart in and out without the colony flying up to meet me, retrieve the super and the queen excluder and quickly make my exit.

WARNING! This box is HEAVY!

I'll never forget the rush I felt upon opening the top of that hive to look into the super for the first time since I'd placed it on top of the hive last spring. What had been nothing more than a simple box with ten empty frames had been transformed into a box containing ten white-capped frames of honey that weighed a good 50-60 lbs. It took all of my effort to lug that box off the hive and move it a good twenty feet away. So far, so good. The bees had not come up to greet the wife and I.

Removal of the queen excluder and the second hive body (which contained two year old honey) also went without a hitch. But that's when the first feelings of doubt began to wash over me. I should have seen at least one bee by now. Bees normally react with annoyance when a beekeeper disturbs the hive body. It's a natural reaction. Remember that bees are insects. They do not have individual minds or individual wills. Insects react instinctively. The first instinct of any honeybee is to protect the queen and hive. I should have at least encountered an angry buzz by now.

Frame of Wax-Capped Honey

We didn't hear a thing. That's bad news. If you don't hear bees buzzing, it means it's time to inspect the hive. This is something I hadn't done since last spring, when our very healthy and productive colony swarmed on four different occasions. Although beekeepers do their level best to keep a hive from swarming, it's part of the natural reproductive process. This is how new colonies form. If a colony swarms, it usually means you've got a champion queen inside that hive and she has produced so much new brood -- that it's time to split.

So what happened? I'm not really sure. But an inspection of the bottom hive body revealed a rather distressing sight. There was nary a bee to be found. There wasn't one single, solitary honeybee in that hive. There wasn't so much as a carcass. Short and sweet? They were gone. Why would a queen and colony leave a hive that they had packed with honey stores during the spring and summer? It's a vexing question and problem that affects commercial and hobbyist beekeepers. Successful colonies can collapse and vanish in the space of a month.

Frames Inside Extractor. Notice Honey at the Bottom?

This one vanished. But before vanishing -- they sure did leave behind a boatload of honey.

The first step in claiming this honey from the super was to warm it up. You can't extract honey that is the consistency of wet cement -- even with the powerful force of an extractor. Honey extracts easily when it is thin and pours easily. But it needs heat to reach this consistency -- and sustained heat at that.

The Bird family garage does double-duty for many things. It's not just a garage. It's a party room. It's a bar, complete with kegerator. It's a place to watch football on a flat-screen TV. It's a place for tools and garden implements AND neon signs for Red Stripe, Coors Light, Corona and the like. Short and sweet? It's not just a garage. It's a "GarageMahal."

By turning up the heat and letting the super sit in one place overnight, inside a well heated GarageMahal, the honey inside those white, wax-capped frames took on the kind of consistency that I wanted. It was soft, pliable and easy to work with. It also leaves behind a sticky mess, necessitating the use of a tarp normally reserved for paint jobs inside the house.

Three Frame Extractor With Spigot at Bottom

The extractor is a simple device that uses the force of gravity to remove honey from frames very quickly. The frames are first scraped with a wire brush to remove the wax cappings, then placed inside slots located inside the drum of the extractor. The top of the extractor is then covered, and at that point, it's muscle over matter. The operator cranks the handle at the top of the extractor, the frames inside whip round and round at high speeds, and the force of gravity sends the honey, wax and bits of pollen slinging to the sides of this modified trash can.

Here's a short, one-minute demo here.

The honey that collects at the bottom of this can drains through a spigot into anything you have available (a five gallon bucket works best) and the end result looks a lot like what is pictured above. You get a lot of honey mixed with bits of wax and pollen that also dislodged during the extraction process. Those bits wax and pollen are lighter than the honey, and will rise to the top of a bucket or one gallon container over a day or two. This makes it easier to dig out, but the honey still must be strained a second time. And even then, tiny particles of wax and pollen remain.

Extracted Honey Before Straining

My friends, I can tell you this much. There is nothing quite like honey freshly harvested from your own backyard hive. The taste is dramatically different from what is purchased in a store (many commercial honey products are mixed with corn syrup or other products). It also contains enzymes and pollens that are considered to be medicinal.

Honey that is allowed to stay in a comb stage for two years is far darker and far sweeter. I am not sure if this can be purchased commercially, I've never come across it before. It is truly something special and will make for some nice gifts during the Christmas season.

The Finished Product: Pure 100% Raw Honey

The bees inside that Hello Kitty Hive were extraordinarily productive. The extractor yielded about 60 lbs. of honey -- enough to fill a number of half gallon and one gallon jugs. I have never seen so much honey in my life and consider myself to be very fortunate indeed. While I am saddened that Sudden Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD) appears to have struck again, Venus and I will start with a new swarm again next spring.

Beekeeping is like a madness. Once it strikes, it never lets go.

From BUST to BOOM in Nine Months

Bees Swarming to Meet You!

BOOM!

So -- is this what it feels like? To be a successful home beekeeper hobbyist? Folks -- I was an utter and complete FAILURE at this exercise when decided to adopt this hobby out of pure frustration a few years back. I too -- knew what it was like -- to have the shape of an "L" on my forehead.

I was "expert" at losing hives. I was an even bigger "expert" at losing queens. No matter what I tried -- no matter what I did -- I FAILED and failed MISERABLY.

But all of that seems so long ago now. Because -- today? I'm a successful beekeeper hobbyist as the photo to the upper right will attest. That is the current state of the neon pink Hello Kitty Hive. To put it short and sweet? It's loaded -- both deeps are packed solid with bees so thick that they fall out of the hive like a graceful curtain blowing in the wind.

One-Half of the Hello Kitty Hive

Much to my chagrin -- and the chagrin of others in the neighborhood -- the hive has now swarmed three times this spring. While many beekeepers are proud of swarms -- because it is the sign of a massively reproductive hive -- they do their level best to prevent it. A swarm happens when a hive becomes jam packed and overcrowded. But it also means you lose precious numbers of beekeeping friends that could have been better put to work making fresh honey for the wife that is Venus.

Beekeeper Keith Scott took these amazing photographs last week while collecting Swarm #2 -- that had come to rest behind the Dinner Plate Honeysuckle Vine. What he witnessed and photographed surprised even the most experienced of beekeepers. Tens of thousands of bees were still packed tightly into the hive even after the second swarm. Tens of thousands remain after Swarm #3 took place this past weekend.

I was surprised to find out that the activity gained the interest of a none-too pleased neighbor. I can't blame him for his dismay -- nor the note he left behind on the blog. If you do not have any experience with watching a hive suddenly swarm into the open on a bright and sunny day -- it can be one of the most terrifying and fascinating events to watch unfold.

Nobody ever said nature was pretty.

Bee Swarm #II in the Dinner Plate Honeysuckle Vine

To protect the innocent -- we'll call this neighbor "Mr. Neighbor." He left this note in the comments section of the blog: "As one of your nearby neighbors, I am a little less than amused by a swarming of bees. It seems to be happening again today (Apr 9th)...might have been nice if we had been warned or even given a choice as to whether or not we wanted this influx of bees."

Some of my more hardened beekeeping friends came to my defense by suggesting that I leave the next swarm in his bed. As much as I chuckled at the "Godfatherly" suggestion -- I was also concerned. I want to be a good neighbor. I like my neighbors. Sure -- Venus and I could have moved out to acreage from North Natomas into Rio Linda -- but that also meant isolation.

I've done that. I've been there. I had my two acres. I couldn't stand the quiet. I hated the privacy that acreage brings. I didn't know my neighbors from Jack. Bill Bird is a product of the Modesto, CA suburbs. I like waving to neighbors as I drive down the street. 4th of July Block Parties shared with family and neighbors are the bomb. Nothing is better -- in my opinion -- that a boatload of children screaming out TRICK OR TREAT on Halloween night.

Nephew Marquitos Stromberg With Yellow Carrot Harvest

Mr. Neighbor would later add that he had a grandaughter that very much enjoyed visting the home and backyard of her grandparents -- which I also identified with. Venus and I have not been blessed with the gift of children. We instead smother our love and affection on nephew Marquitos and niece Celina -- who reward us with "most favored destination" status. Can you imagine then -- how we would feel if Marquitos and Celina were suddenly too scared to visit "Tío and Tía?"

We would be crushed. Mr. Neighbor and his wife would feel equally crushed if their grandaughter reacted in the same manner. I can understand and identify with that concern. I can also identify with the fact that -- while bees are legal to keep in Sacramento City limits -- they can also be classified as nuisance problems. Therefore, it's best to reach out and react before problems are allowed to fester into something larger.

Promising "Mr. Neighbor" a jar of honey for his troubles also helped smooth things over a bit, as did a message of understanding. When the bees swarmed for the first time nearly two weeks ago, leaving a resulting mass of bees on a nearby peach tree, I wasn't sure what to do. I certainly did not approach them. Were they agitated? Would they reach out and "touch me" with a stinging party? I didn't know -- and I surely didn't want to find out.

Honeybees Preparing to Swarm

But the nice thing about beekeeping is this: you learn the basics from others. You find out that swarms are just a part of nature and nothing more. Better yet -- swarms of Italian honeybees are as harmless as any bee colony will ever be. You can reach out and run your hand over the top of one -- provided you have the nerve -- and they will not instinctively react with a stinging party. They have no hive to protect -- therefore -- no reason to sting.

And so -- much to the delight -- and chagrin -- of some -- Bill Bird is now a successful beekeeper with a strong colony inside that bright pink Hello Kitty Hive. What is my secret? How did this failure of a hobbyist beekeeper go from BUST to BOOM overnight? How did three frames worth of bees delivered last June result in a massive hive nine months later that is so healthy it's splitting at a record rate?

I wish I could tell you the secret. I'd like to know myself. While Venus and I did make every effort to keep the hive in sugar water during the first few months -- once the bees turned aggressive last October -- and our pathway to the hive turned into a mudpit -- we ended our feeding efforts. To be brutally honest? We didn't do a darn thing. We stayed away.

As it turns out? They didn't need our help. As it turns out? I have far more pollen sources around this North Natomas home than I ever dreamed possible. A colony this strong -- this large and this lush doesn't get this way overnight without a steady source of pollen from a variety of sources.

A Keith Scott Photo

Obviously? The bees found that source. I find that the colony is also very adept at "planting" its own sources of pollen around the hive. Am I trying to tell you that I have bees that farm? I can only tell you that the clover that is springing up in every corner of the Bird Back 40 is coming from somewhere -- seeds of which that have no doubt been deposited by a passing bee. I certainly didn't put it there.

The end result is this: Bill and Venus Bird have the pollinators that they desperately sought in 2007. Roseville area beekeeper Keith Scott is getting fat in the beekeeping hobbyist business with three new colonies catpured from the Bird Back 40. Neighbors like "Mr. Neighbor" and Greg and Dara DiBiase and many others are getting treated to a swarm show that many people never get to witness in person.

Interesting? Without a doubt. A learning experience? Of course! And the show is now just begining. Act II of the beekeeping experience moves from pollination to honey collection later this summer.

Stay tuned...

SURPRISE, SURPRISE, SURPRISE!!!

Yes -- indeed -- it's a Gomer Pyle moment in the Backyard of Bird. Or -- I suppose you could also say -- "Just when you least expect it, *IT* happens."

*IT* is happening right now in the Bird Back 40 -- right underneath our very noses -- and to be honest boys and girls: I'm not really sure what to make of it nor what I should do next.

Ideas anyone? Buehler? Please leave them below in the circular file.

I had intended to prepare a special post this weekend -- with some special news indeed: The Hello Kitty Hive was back in action. Although Venus and I had come to a decision earlier this spring to not purchase another colony of bees -- a good gardening friend by the name of Garry Erck had another idea.

Garry -- an experienced beekeeper himself -- had taken an interest in our Hello Kitty Hive and the many challenges we faced last season -- our first as beekeepers. He exulted at the good news that came from the installation of a new queen. He communicated his sorrow when our hive "flew the coop" (Colony Collapse Disorder) last October.

Garry's plan this year was to capture at least five wild colonies -- also called swarms -- which are apparently in big numbers where he lives in the El Dorado County foothills. I say "big numbers" because Garry became so proficient at capturing swarms this spring and summer that he's wound up with nine colonies -- about four more than he really wanted.

Garry -- knowing of our misfortune -- had promised as early as April that he would try to secure a new colony for us. As time passed -- and I watched him blog about capture after capture -- I knew that at some point Garry would come calling in the direction of the Natomas Gardening Birds.

Sure enough -- the good news came in the form of an email about three weeks ago. "How would you like a new colony," Garry asked. Although Venus and I had made a decision to sit the summer out -- we also missed our bees very much. Not a weekend went by without one of us in front of the hive -- lamenting our loss -- or thinking about the colony we had tended the summer before.

So -- when the chance to get another colony landed on our front doorstep? We jumped at it!

That's right -- a new life for the Hello Kitty Hive! A new colony of bees! Would we have better luck this time? We were both certainly willing to give it a try! After all -- we do have that all important first year of experience now. So why not try, try again?

But -- Mother Nature it seems -- had other plans.

Venus and I started preparing the Hello Kitty Hive for the new colony on Tuesday night. We pulled the weeds around it -- wiped the outside down a bit with a damp cloth and also opened up the hive to make sure that no spiders had taken up residence inside (Black Widow spiders love bee hives -- FYI).

While we had the top open -- we both thought it prudent to remove yet one more frame of delicious -- Hello Kitty Hive -- honey. After all -- the previous colony had left us with ten packed frames? Why not take one or two and enjoy nature's bounty? The new colony can have the other eight frames we reasoned. Surely -- they wouldn't miss two?

Apparently not.

Proud readers: This is the sight that greeted us when Venus and I arrived home after work on Wednesday evening. That's right. Your eyes are not deceiving you. That is the Hello Kitty Hive. And yes -- it's covered with BEES.

Did Garry arrive early and surprise us with our new colony perhaps?

Uh -- no...

As I indicated earlier -- Mother Nature had "other plans." Those plans include a wild swarm of bees that discovered our hive -- discovered the open top -- discovered the eight remaining frames of honey and moved right on in and made themselves comfortable inside their brand new -- Hello Kitty Hive.

"No," we both thought. "This can't be." I reasoned that the bees all over the sides and in the frames of the hive must -- in fact -- be "robber bees." I had heard about them. Robber bees are bees from a strong hive -- that will sometimes attack a weak hive -- to get at the honey.

That must be it I reasoned: Robber Bees...

But as I took a closer look at the hive -- I noticed the clusters of honeybees on either side of the hive. That isn't normal behavior for "robber bees." No -- they go right on inside and help themselves to the honey on the frames. However -- it is normal behavior for bees to "cluster" around a new queen. It is the "bee way" of protecting the new leader from attack.

A new queen had discovered the Hello Kitty Hive. At least -- I think it's a new queen. To be brutally honest -- I'm not quite sure myself. But I do know that robber bees will leave and return to their own hives when the sun goes down. They don't stick around at night.

But these bees did. So did the clusters. As of this morning? They were swarming wildly above the open hive. You can actually see a few of them if you look closely enough at the photos.

"No," I thought -- still not believing my eyes. "This just can't be right," I reasoned. After all -- nary a bee had shown interest in the hive -- or the honey inside -- since the last colony left in October. This isn't due to a lack of bees in the Bird Back 40. We get swarms of them from other colonies that have discovered the pollinators in the vast backyard. Honeybees -- Mason Bees -- Carpenter Bees -- you name it and we have them.

So -- why now? At this very moment in time? Three days before Garry Erck was going to gift me with a new colony? Bees suddenly show up? A new queen? An actual wild swarm? I needed help. And when Bill Bird needs help -- he turns to his unfortunate mentor: Farmer Fred Hoffman.

Surely -- Fred would have an answer. Surely -- the guru of Northern California gardening could figure this one out for me. Right? Like so many times in the past?

Not this time. His response? "I only know who to call to get rid of swarms. 451-BEES."

Not that I want to get rid of a swarm mind you. I'd just like to really know what I have here. It appears that I will wait until Saturday -- when the more experienced beekeeper eye of Mr. Erck pays me a visit to tell me exactly what I have.

But as for now -- I give you -- the Hello Kitty Hive 2010 Edition.

Please Don't Hate Me Cause I'm GOOD!!!

All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel;

The monkey stopped to pull up his sock,

Pop! goes the weasel.

WARNING!!! The posting you are about to read includes a recipe that is so amazingly good and wonderful that you will probably start drooling on your keyboard and could possibly short out your computer. Keep this in mind. Keep a paper towel handy!

Kids -- you have been warned... You can try this at home -- but it won't be easy. The ingredients require a rather lengthy hunt...

My thanks to Hank Shaw of Hunter, Angler, Gardener, Cook fame. It was he who revealed the very top-secret location of a producing mulberry tree in his Orangevale neighborhood. And -- following his very precise instructions on where this secret treat was located -- Venus and I set out on "the hunt."

A hunt for fresh mulberries.

I'll be honest. I've never tasted a real mulberry before. Oh -- I've grown up with mulberry trees. I know all about them. They dotted Modesto backyards by the thousands when I was growing up there many moons ago. But these were the "fruitless" mulberry variety. If you've ever dealt with them -- then you know from experience -- these trees are infamous.

Homeowners planted these trees by the thousands in the new "cookie cutter" subdivisions that were built for returning World War II troops in the late forties and early fifties. The modern convenience known as central air conditioning simply wasn't available (unless you had money -- which most people didn't) -- and most of these homes were equipped with a wall unit swamp cooler. Or -- if you're lucky -- you actually had a REAL wall-unit air conditioner.

These devices were pretty good at keeping these small, cookie-cutter homes cool during the heat of the San Joaquin summers. But they were only effective if you closed off all doors to adjoining bedrooms and bathrooms. When it was time to "retire" for the evening? You were greeted by a BLAST of hot summer air upon entering your closed-off bedroom.

In response? Homeowners bought thousands of shade trees in an effort to keep outer bedrooms somewhat cool. The tree of choice? The fruitless mulberry. It was cheap. It grew fast. A single tree could shade half a house. Kids loved them because those wide branches sticking out over a rooftop made them easy and safe to climb. In fact, many a fruitless mulberry wound up doing double-duty as a home for a "treehouse" back in the "day."

But as time passed -- the disadvantages of the fruitless mulberry came to light. First? They dropped a METRIC TON of leaves during the fall. Mulching lawnmowers simply did not exist yet. The only way to deal with them was to rake the yard early and often. Some homeowners did. Many did not. Those leaves would then blow into a gutter and wash into a drain during the first rainstorm of the winter season.

End result? Plugged drains. Flooded streets. It occurred often. The roots of the fruitless mulberry trees were problematic as well. Those shallow root systems would grow beneath concrete patios and sidewalks -- lifting and then cracking them into a hundred different pieces. And -- if the root systems weren't growing underneath a concrete walkway? They were growing into and blocking nearby sewage pipes.

Many homeowners -- like my mother -- would wind up paying big $$$ to hire someone to not only chop down the offending tree but also remove the extensive root system. It was expensive. It was messy.

It didn't really dawn on me that the mulberry tree actually produced fruit similar to a blackberry or boysenberry until I saw a picture of a productive tree. I had never seen anything like it before. Oh sure -- I recognized the leaves alright. Those were the leaves of the dreaded fruitless mulberry tree. But this tree had berries on it! Thousands upon thousands of delicious berries.

What were they like? I had to find out.

Venus and I located the tree easily enough thanks to Hank Shaw's exact instructions. What greeted me however -- was a shock to the system. Venus and I noticed that the tree in question was growing out of the stump of a long dead oak almond tree. The two tree systems had intertwined over time.

Interesting how Mother Nature can work sometimes.

Although the local bird population had been snacking on the mulberry treats for quite some time -- there was more than enough for the Birds to harvest. After five to ten minutes of reaching and picking -- we had enough mulberries to create a signature summer-time dish: Mulberry Cobbler.

Mmm....Cobbler.

Remember my warning about drooling on your keyboard? Yeah -- I warned you!

Venus and I also picked up a half flat of fresh strawberries -- which are in season now -- and taste absolutely delectable. We proceeded to combine the local strawberries with the strawberries from our backyard -- plus the mulberries we had harvest earlier -- and created a unique fruit combination I have never before tasted.

But this recipe contains more than just fruit and simple Bisquick mix. It would be nice if it was that easy -- but no -- there's another "secret" ingredient that we added to the mix. Of course -- every cobbler requires just a little bit of sugar to sweeten the dish just a tad. But the real kicker was two or three big spoonfuls of locally produced honey from the Hello Kitty Hive in the backyard.

The colony of bees that once populated that hive are long gone -- but they left behind a sweet treat that we continue to harvest to this very day. There is just nothing like the taste of unprocessed and unpasturized honey that comes straight from a backyard hive.

The finished product? Well -- the wife and I had that for desert just last night. And yes -- there's enough leftover for tonight and perhaps the next night as well.

Working with freshly harvested mulberries can be a messy experience -- so by all means -- do not wear your Sunday best to a harvest party. Expect to have hands and fingers that are stained purple-black by the time you've harvested your fill. Getting the stems off mulberries is also another trying experience.

There's a reason why you don't find this treat in your local supermarket.

But -- I can tell you this much from experience: It's well worth the time and effort.

Please don't hate me cause I'm good...