The Crenshaw Surprise

Vine Ripened Crenshaw Melon

On the first weekend of the 2012 NFL Season, the garden in the Bird Back 40 delivered a sweet treat in the form of a Crenshaw melon. Here on the second weekend on the 2012 NFL Season, the garden is about to deliver five more.

Fresh off watching the San Francisco Giants pull even closer to a National League West title and my suddenly reborn Fresno State Bulldog football team deliver and eye-popping rout of the Colorado Buffaloes, I can tell you that life is pretty sweet at the moment. It's almost as sweet as the Crenshaw melons that are coming off the Bird Back 40 vines in eye-popping numbers.

A Sweet Surprise Awaits

I've never grown this melon before. Shame on Bill Bird. Because this melon has now found a permanent home in our North Natomas soil. Short and sweet? The Crenshaw melon loves the Bird Back 40. So, we'll love it back.

The melon pictured above and to your immediate left is the payoff for watching this treat turn from a bright green to a dull yellow. The rind of this melon also tends to die back near the blossom end, which makes it an inviting target for birds and bugs. I watched -- anxiously -- as this treat started to ripen, hoping and praying that the Birds would get to this treat before the mockingbirds that frolic and sometimes curse our backyard.

Crenshaw Melon Chunks

Consider this prayers answered. The melon slowly ripened until it told us it was finally ready last Sunday morning. I was rather curious. Our first experience with this melon was rather disappointing. I had picked the first one a smidge too early. Although it was pleasantly sweet, it was nothing like the sweet tastebud surprise we were about to receive.

That taste and wonderful texture grabbed my attention fairly quickly. What exactly is a Crenshaw melon and why I have I waited so long to plant said variety? From our friends at wiseGEEK:

Crenshaw Melons on the Vine

"Crenshaw melons were bred by crossing casaba melons with Persian melons, also sometimes called muskmelons. The favorable traits of both melon varieties successfully manifested in the cross breed, and it quickly became one of the more popular melons on the market. The melons can be eaten plain as a snack food, mixed in with fruit salads, or wrapped in prosciutto for a twist on the classic prosciutto wrapped melon appetizer."

I'll admit, it's been a strange melon season in the Bird Back 40. August is normally the strongest month for melon production, and while we've pulled our share of cantaloupes and small watermelons from the vine, August production hasn't been anything to really write home to mom about.

Georgia Rattlesnake Watermelon

But September? September is a decidedly different story. Those Georgia Rattlesnake watermelon vines are suddenly popping with late season production. While the cantaloupe and Sangria watermelons have largely played themselves out, the Crenshaw vines are putting on a real show with production I've never witnessed in a backyard melon patch before.

The big question mark is, will the weather hold? Melons like long, hot summer days. They don't dig cool fall temperatures. Mother Nature has done her part by delivering a mid-September heatwave, but the days are getting shorter. That can play havoc with melon vines and varieties that need 60-80 days to deliver a firm, vine-ripened melon.

The Crenshaw: Sliced and Ready to Chunk!

I don't have any doubts about the Crenshaw melons that are now just starting to turn yellow. But that Georgia Rattlesnake? Why did you take so long to show up? Thank you for coming, but please, hurry up! This weather isn't going to last forever!

There is no better weekend treat than a sliced Crenshaw melon. Starting your day with a bowl of fruit procured from your own backyard vines is the final payoff for a summer of vine-tending work. And, after one bite of a vine-ripened Crenshaw melon, a gardener comes to realize that it was worth the effort and that much more.

A GIANT of a Day!

Baseball is back, baby!

Here is Northern California -- all is just peachy keen! There might be a bad bout of peach-leaf curl on the peach trees thanks to some late spring rain and cold weather -- but baseball is back in the San Francisco Bay Area and life is just fine.

And it does appear -- once again -- that the San Francisco Giants motto for the 2011 season will be TORTURE. After an AT&T opener like fans experienced today (a 5-4 come from behind NAILBITER over the Cardinals) -- how could one expect any differently?

But -- hey -- it's baseball, right. Whaddya want? Another three months of the Sacramento KINGS? Another season of Alex Smith at QB for your San Francisco 49ers?

No -- thank you -- I'll pass. Gimme some Giants baseball -- with a side of your Sacramento River Cats on a warm summer evening on the banks of the Sacramento River.

Heaven!

Despite what appears to be yet another lousy spring for us gardening types -- things are a changing for the better in the Bird Back 40. Yes indeed -- the grapevines a growing! There appears to be a WHOPPER of a crop on the Santa Rosa Plum tree -- and for the first time ever -- Flavor Finale Pluots on our pluot tree which is now entering its second year of production. We didn't get pluots last year -- so this will be a first for us.

A second spring swarm from the Hello Kitty HIve

But the bone-chilling sunny afternoons aren't holding down the colony of bees in the Hello Kitty Hive -- which swarmed for a second time this week. They are kind of tough to see in the mass of vines that is the Dinner Plate Honeysuckle bush -- but trust me -- they are there.

And when the bees aren't swarming about the yard? They're doing a pretty good job at what I wanted them to do: pollinate various crops here and there.

Case in point? The wife that is Venus and I are heading for an impressive pea harvest from vines that we allowed to grow through the winter. To put in bluntly? We're loaded.

Venus and I have been hit and miss with our pea plantings -- mostly miss. During the past couple of years, we've always planted seed during the first week or two of spring. But by the time the vines finally reach the desired size where they can produce? Hot weather sets in. And nothing knocks off a nice pea crop like successive 90-degree days.

The tomatoes might love it -- but peas are a cool weather crop. Once summer checks in, pea crops check out.

Did someone say peas?

So this year Venus tried something different. Rather than plant in February -- she planted in early November. The intent was not to get a fall crop of peas -- although it is possible. Nope -- the hope is that the seeds would sprout just before the winter freeze set in. Did they survive that freeze? It appears that they not only survived -- they loved it.

There are a few plantings in the Bird backyard that really thrive in cold, wet and wintry conditions. Artichoke plants are one of them. Artichoke plants are gluttons for winter punishment. Two weeks of non-stop winter rain and cold? Bring it on. Wind gusts of 35 plus? Is that all you've got?

Venus suspected that peas could not only absorb the same abuse, but continue to grow through the winter months. Guess what? She's right. The pea seeds that she planted in November didn't necessarily grow to towering heights during the cold weather. But they appear to have developed strong root systems.

Monster peas growing up bamboo support system

So when the first warm, hint of spring days arrived? The pea vines shot out of the ground like a cannon and started marching up a bamboo tee pee that we had assembled earlier. When they began to flower two to three weeks ago -- the vines hummed with that unmistakable sound of foraging honeybees.

We didn't do a whole lot of fall or winter vegetable gardening this year. A death in the family will knock you off the gardening track for awhile. It's tough to find enjoyment in the dirt when a family member is suffering. Suffice to say that the onion and garlic crops will be substantially smaller this year.

But chalk one up for the peas -- and a bounty of a 2011 harvest.

Fear This Beard, Brian Wilson!!!

A Beard for Brian? I think not!

Just in time for the start of Major League Baseball season!!! A beard that you won't see Brian Wilson wearing on the mound for your San Francisco Giants anytime soon.

Can you only begin to imagine how they would react when he uncorks one of his famous fastballs?

I hope he has insurance.

My friends -- this is the vision that greeted me and the wonderful wife that is Venus when we returned to home to our North Natomas farm after a quick trip to East Sacramento last Sunday. Know what this is? In technical terms -- it's called a swarm.

It's also the result of a lazy or inattentive beekeeper. In case you're wondering? That would be yours truly.

The Feared Beard of Brian Wilson

In this particular case? This is a Prime Swarm -- which means about 60% of the worker bees have now departed our Hello Kitty Hive. But -- as bad as that sounds -- that's not the worst part. No -- the worst part is they take the old queen with them. And it's the old queen that's responsible for this brood beard that Brian Wilson will never touch.

Neighbor Greg DiBiase greeted us last Sunday with some interesting and distressing news. "Something is happening in your backyard," he told us. "Your bees put up a real racket this afternoon and were flying all over the place."

Bees flying all over the yard didn't neceesarily concern me. I had witnessed this many times before. A vast majority of the worker bees will pick a specific time of day to mass or fly around outside the hive. I've seen it many times before -- and it's just part of "bee behavior." It's also fun and fascinating to watch -- from a safe distance. Bill Bird is many things. Extraordinarily stupid isn't one of them.

But make a racket? Other than a normal buzzing sound -- even large swarms of bees don't put up much of a racket. The decibel levels will increase if I'm inspecting the hive for one reason or another -- but that's a given. Bees don't like intruders -- especially bear-shaped intruders like Bill Bird.

There is only one other instance where bees have been know to put up a racket or a ruckus. I have never witnessed it before -- but I've seen it in clips on youtube and other places. Bees make a high-pitched racket when they swarm out of a hive.

Bee Swarm on the O'Henry Peach Tree

And -- so -- when Greg informed me that he had not only witnessed a cloud of bees in the backyard -- but also reported a high pitched scream -- my first thought was "uh-oh." Upon stepping into the North Natomas Back 40 and turning a corner -- this is what greeted us. Sure enough -- the hive had swarmed. The old queen had left -- landed on a nearby peach tree -- and taken a good chunk of our Hello Kitty Hive with her.

This -- I might add -- was the first dry and sunny day of spring that we had experienced after two-weeks of seemingly non-stop rainfall and cold weather. It seemed our bees had been waiting for the right moment. And when opportunity knocked in the form of a nice day? BUZZ!

Of course -- I was unprepared. I have never witnessed a hive swarm before (and I still haven't to be honest -- because I missed this one). What does one do when a hive swarms? A Happy Dance? I think not. Can you approach a swarm like this? Good question! Do bees that swarm sting if you get too close? Another good question!

Up Close and Personal

I had a lot of questions on this day -- and very little in the way of answers. But the good thing is -- I was armed with the right bit of knowledge. I knew who to call -- and no -- it wasn't the Ghostbusters either.

Although my experience with a backyard hive has been short and sweet -- sweet like honey I might add -- I have managed to make a number of contacts. Garry Erck gifted me with this old queen and several frames of brood last summer from a wild swarm that he had captured near his home in Diamond Springs. I was starting to wonder if he wanted the old queen back.

If anyone was prepared to handle a swarm? It was Garry. But Diamond Springs is also a long haul away from North Natomas. Plus -- it was late Sunday afternoon.

Beekeeper Keith Scott with a gentle brush...

Fate would intervene in the form of another beekeeper -- a gentleman by the name of Keith Scott. Not only do the two plot against the rest of humanity together at Intel -- Keith was the "other half" of Garry's bee swarm collection hobby. I'd never met Keith -- but I sure did love stealing his engineering design for a contraption designed to grow tomatoes from seed.

Without engineers -- Bill Bird wouldn't have any original thoughts. File that one away for later.

But I digress. As luck would have it? Keith was in the neighborhood. Not only was Keith in the neighborhood -- he had everything he needed to catch a wild swarm. Why did he have all this stuff in the trunk of his car? Because Garry Erck told him to "be prepared."

See what I mean about plotting against the rest of humanity? These guys are good.

Keith sprays swarm with sugar water

It's often been said that if you ask ten beekeepers the same question regarding bees -- you're going to get ten entirely different answers. There is no tried and true method. There is no "Bible of Beekeeping." But there is a thing called "Bee Protocol." Part of bee protocol is this: The Beekeeper Who Traps the Swarm -- Keeps the Swarm.

It's not a part of the Ten Commandments as far as I know -- but it's a rule that is followed by most beekeepers religiously.

Plus -- not only was Bill Bird not prepared to trap a swarm -- he also wasn't prepared for a second hive in the backyard. Venus and I practice "The Highlander" form of maintaining a beehive: "There Can Be Only One." Therefore -- Keith got the swarm -- and my old queen to boot.

Plus -- he was prepared. He had the suit! He had the transport box! He had the brush! He had the sugar water. He also had some unsuspecting young boys who were only too happy to "give dad a hand." I'll never forget his instructions on that day: "Boy Number One! Step Forward! Hand me that frame! Now step back! Boy Number Two! Step Forward! Hand me your frame! Now step back!"

It's nice to be prepared...

I've never seen such artful precision out of young boys before. I should have Keith train my cats.

As it turns out -- the safest time to approach a mass of bees is right after they've swarmed. They have no hive to protect, therefore lack the instinct to defend a hive against an intruder. As long as I didn't get close to the queen? I could get as close as I wanted. Another beekeeper (Ernie Buda from the Sacramento Area Beekeepers Association) advised that I should "run my hands over them and let them crawl on me."

No thanks Mr. Beekeeper. I deferred to Keith and his moonsuit.

The former queen of the Hello Kitty Hive is now somewhere in a rural Roseville-area backyard. I have no doubt she is once again building up a champion hive. Perhaps -- if I'm lucky -- I might get her back someday. As for now? I have -- or soon will have -- her queen offspring.

At some point -- and it already may have happened during this past week -- a new queen will emerge from one of several queen cells that worker bees have undoubtedly prepared for just this type of circumstance. The new queen will emerge -- and her first task will be to search out and destroy other queen cells before other new queens can emerge.

If two queens are born at the same time -- there will be a battle royale for control of the Hello Kitty Hive. There is room for only one queen and one queen only.

If I had thought ahead? I'd put the whole kit n' kaboodle on pay-per-view TV and make bank!

But once again -- Bill Bird is not prepared.

The Glow That Will Not Fade

Venus at San Francisco City Hall

"Let's do this," she said.

"Are you kidding," I thought. "Do you know how many things can go wrong? Do you realize how many people are going to this? Do you understand how early we'll have to get up for this? The kind of traffic we'll have to fight through? Do you understand?"

"I don't care," she responded. "Let's do this."

This -- in a snapshot -- of why I so deeply love the dear wife that is Venus. Because only she can make me do things that I would not ordinarily do. Bill Bird doesn't take a lot of chances. He normally does not "jump without thinking."

That's what Venus is for I suppose.

Giants Win the World Series

The day was Election Day, Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010. I was walking precincts in my hometown of Modesto, CA for State Senate Candidate Anthony Cannella -- and also doing my level-best to fight off a world class headache caused by drinking far too much celebratory champagne the night before following an improbable and joyous San Francisco Giants WIN in Game Five of the World Series.

I kept repeating it to myself the next day: "We did it. We are World Series Champions." I kept repeating that line as I walked through neighborhoods where I had grown up as a child -- where I had listened to play-by-play radio greats like Lon Simmons, Joe Angel, Lindsey Nelson and Hank Greenwald on KNBR describe how Johnny "Disaster" LeMaster booted yet another ground ball.

No matter how many home runs would spring from the bat of "Stretch" McCovey or Jack Clark -- it would never be enough to account for the creampuffs that John "The Count" Montefusco or Jim Barr would lay over the plate in response. The Giants were lovable losers in the 1970's. And I loved each and every one of them.

It did not matter that my older brother -- who laughed with glee when Atlee Hammaker gave up the first and only GRAND SLAM in the 1983 All Star Game -- and tagged him with the cruel nickname of "Atlee Grand Slammaker." I still loved them. Each and very one.

And so -- while basking in the glow of an improbably World Series win in five short games -- came the email from Venus: "Giants are holding a victory parade in downtown San Francisco tomorrow! Let's go!"

There were so many things wrong with this idea -- I can't even begin to tell you. How would we get there? How many people would wind up attending? Could we even get into The City by The Bay?

"Are you sure," I texted back? "How will we get there?" Her response? "Plane, train or automobile, it doesn't matter. We've got to be there."

Slowly -- on the ride back to Sacramento from Modesto -- I warmed to the idea. I informed my immediate boss of the "wife's plans." He encouraged me to go.

And so -- at 7:00 AM the next morning -- Venus and I found ourselves boarding the Capitol Corridor train from Sacramento to Richmond. From there -- we would catch the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) line into the City.

Or that was the plan at least. And what a plan it was. I could not have worked out any better. Because -- on the day after walking precincts in Modesto -- I found myself pressed into a crowd of hundreds upon thousands of delirious San Francisco Giants fans in front of San Francisco City Hall for a Victory Parade and Salute that I will never forget.

Best Giants T-Shirt EVER!

We ran into this lady on the BART trip on the way into The City. This was -- by far -- the most imaginative Giants t-shirt I came across that day. The lady in question (we didn't get her name) didn't have any Giants merchandise. So -- instead -- she did the next best thing. She took an orange shirt that contained the words "Everything is Bigger in Texas," and scrawled the words San Francisco in black pen across the middle.

Seriously? Could anyone say it any better than that?

Packed like sardines on BART

Venus and I were packed into that BART line like sardines by the time our train finally arrived at the Civic Center -- a stone's throw from City Hall. We emerged into a world of orange and black. The streets were closed for several blocks around us -- and although the streets were packed with Giants fans -- the fun was yet to get underway.

We made it. We made it straight through. Thousands of fans would have trouble accessing BART into The City on this day. Despite a record number of trains dedicated to getting people into downtown San Francisco -- thousands would be disappointed. More than a half million people were able to board trains to this event -- a BART record for one-day ridership.

In Front of San Francisco City Hall

Who knows how many got left behind? For some reason -- we made it while so many others were stuck in stations from Berkeley to Oakland. Some arrived late. Some not at all. There's no telling how many just gave up at the sight of one hopelessly packed train after another.

The first order of business? Taking care of a weak bladder. Fortunately -- the powers that be in San Francisco are used to events like this one. Portable restrooms set up by the hundreds on either side of the streets beckoned. No waiting.

The second order of business? Getting used to that rather OVERWHELMING odor permeating through the streets of downtown San Francisco. Closer Brian Wilson put it best during his presentation after the Victory Parade: "I'm kind of having a mini heart attack. Not sure what it's from, maybe the electricity in the crowd, maybe the smell of Prop 19."

I wasn't smelling heirloom tomatoes -- that's for sure.

Rally Towel Toss!

We knew it was "our day in the sun" when barriers that had been holding the crowd back suddenly opened in front of us and we rushed -- with thousands of others -- toward the main stage. Organizers were tossing Giants Rally Towels into the crowd by the hundreds -- and I was lucky enough to snag one of the first.

Our improbable run of luck continued moments later when someone tossed a pack of six towels into the air and they landed directly into the wife's outstretched hands. She was literally mobbed from that point on -- despite my best efforts to keep the throngs at bay.

One couple = seven towels. We did wind up giving some away to others around us -- but came home with our fair share for the GarageMahal of Sports Memories.

One by one -- our heroes took to the stage of San Francisco City Hall. Manager Bruce Bochy, pitching LEGEND Tim (TIMMAY!) Lincecum, Wilson, Juan Uribe, Andres Torres, Aubrey Huff -- a parade of stars. My legs -- after about four hours of standing in the same spot -- finally started to give out.

Venus stayed behind while I fought my way out of a throng of thousands -- two solid blocks of wall-to-wall people (who did not move out of the way easily). It was a rare hot day in downtown San Francisco -- made even hotter by the masses around me.

Once I could find a place to sit -- and perhaps enjoy a bottle or two of cold water -- all would become right again. I did finally find that spot -- some two blocks away. And although the wife and I were separated by a crowd in the tens of thousands -- we managed to find each other after it was all said and done.

Venus with FOX 40 Photographer Dan Slack

We're former news reporters -- don't you know. When in doubt? Meet at the site of where all the satellite TV trucks are parked. Although we both haven't worked in the media for an untold number of years -- we still have friends who do -- like FOX 40 Photo Journalist Dan Slack.

This is an event that is hard to describe. I almost titled this "Two Gardeners: Our of Their Element." I've never been a part of anything quite like this before. I'm not sure I'll ever see anything like this again in my lifetime.

For -- if this is the only Giants Victory Parade that I will witness in my lifetime -- at least I can say this much.

I was there. The Glow Will Never Fade.

On the 26th Day...

That wonderful lady pictured to your immediate right said "I do."

Yes she did -- no matter how much she might try to deny it now.

You see -- I have it on tape.

A baseball fan -- check that -- a San Francisco GIANTS baseball fan knows the date of October 26, 2002 all too well. It's a day that will forever vex Giants fans. For -- on that day -- the Giants blew the 6th game of the World Series -- and would eventually lose to the Angels in seven.

It's also the day that Venus and Bill got married.

Ancient history you say? Perhaps. But I remember it like yesterday. I remember every moment. I even remember the steps leading up to said event.

I should remember them -- since I made plenty of mistakes. It's a wonder the lady didn't call the cops first.

I suppose an explanation is in order.

When I first placed my eyes upon this lady -- I was smitten forever. Never before -- and never again -- would my eyes be graced with such a lovely presence. My co-workers would later tell me that my jaw dropped to the floor -- but let's just call it what it is shall we?

Love at first sight.

However -- the first attempts to woo the lady that would become my wife were filled with one blunder after another. I didn't know her yet. I didn't know her likes. I didn't know her dislikes. I didn't know what pleased her. I didn't know what displeased her.

I only knew that I loved her.

Knowing her love for all things Spanish -- I thought a bit of poetry might be in order -- and immediately set out to find the most romantic poem -- written in Spanish -- that I could find.

Just one problem: I didn't know a lick of Spanish other than "Mas Cervasa por favor?" I still don't

Still -- I managed to run across something on the World Wide Web -- a long-dead Spanish poet described as the "Shakespeare of Spain."

"Aha," I thought. "Perfect!" And so I proceeded to copy this poem -- and send it to her with a vase full of flowers.

Her reaction was less than I desired.

The Spanish poet in question -- you see -- wrote about a Knight in Shining Armor that fell in love with a young lady and did his level best to woo her. The words of this 15th century poem -- roughly translated -- read "my love for you even pierces this suit of armor."

There's just one problem. What was written in the 15th century doesn't necessarily translate into the same thing in modern day times. Have you ever read Shakespeare? Better question: Have you ever understood what Shakespeare was writing about?

The Spanish word for a suit of armor is "Armas." It's also the same word used for "armed" or "gun."

So -- roughly translated in today's language -- what I sent to the woman I was so smitten with was: "I have a gun and I'm coming after you."

And you dare ask "how did you ever get married?"

Sometimes I wonder myself.

Gifts From Greg

I'd like to introduce you today to an interesting member of the gardening-hunting blogging community. His name is Greg Damitz. He's the brains behind the blog that is Roseville Vegetable Gardening -- and as you might be able to guess from the photo -- he's rather fond of duckies.

I first discovered Greg's blog about a year and a half ago -- right about the time he discovered my blog and we started to trade notes back and forth about heirloom tomatoes -- onions -- garlic and other produce straight from the backyard garden.

Greg's blog intrigued me for a number of reasons. First -- he lives in Old Roseville -- in a neighborhood that some people would love to move into. The neighborhoods near the Roseville Fairgrounds and railyard are so unlike the newer cookie cutter subdivisions that are located just blocks away.

Greg lives in a neighborhood that was built sixty to seventy years ago. No house looks alike. The streets are wide. The houses are small. The yards are expansive. They were built for a generation that grew up without computers and other indoor gadgets. They were built for families who spent the bulk of their time outdoors -- in the sunshine.

These are homes that feature alleys behind every home. Mature fruit and citrus trees abound in nearly every front and backyard. It's a picture of stark beauty that is hard to describe -- but it's similar to the neighborhoods that I called home as a child in Modesto. Although -- I'll admit -- those Modesto homes offered slightly larger lots.

Why? Who wanted to live in Modesto in the 1950's? Who wants to live in Modesto now? Developers had to do something to lure people to town. Homes with extra large lots were the selling point. Sacramento and Roseville meanwhile -- although small towns at the time -- offered direct access to San Francisco to the west or Reno to the east. In Modesto -- at that time -- it took quite a bit of driving down old, dusty, county roads before you hit any main highway that would take you anywhere worth going.

But I digress. My chance visit with Greg took place during a quest where I was trying to "take care of two birds with one stone." A co-worker from Grass Valley had picked up a package of "All Red" seed potatoes from Peaceful Valley Farm Supply and had traveled to nearby Lincoln for a high school baseball game featuring her record-setting son who is making college scouts drool (this kid is going to make life miserable for the Dodgers while starting for your San Francisco Giants people -- trust me on this).

Greg's home was just a short drive away from the game in question -- AND it just happened to lead me in the same direction of home. You see -- Greg had some things I wanted.

One of those items is located in this photo to your right -- and it's a project that I'd been attempting to tackle for quite some time -- but had yet to "get around to it." To most folks? This is nothing more than a couple of pieces of wood with some large holes drilled into it. But for experienced beekeepers? This is a home for Mason and Carpenter bees -- which are some of the best pollinators on the planet. Those tubes taped to the side of that home? Those are Mason Bee tubes -- purchased just yesterday at Sacramento Beekeeping Supply.

Soon -- those Mason Bees will emerge from those tubes -- and hopefully crawl right into one of those pre-drilled holes. And -- since I know that we already have Carpenter Bees in the neighborhood -- I'm hopefull they'll find the new home just as appealing.

Mason and Carpenter bees -- yes they are those large black bees -- aren't the honey producers that your standard Italian honeybees are. Nope. But they are superior pollinators. And they are attracted to food crops like heirloom tomatoes that the standard honeybee ignores. If you've never witnessed a Mason or Carpenter bee drilling into a small tomato flower -- it's a show everyone should catch in their lifetimes. Better yet? When a Mason or Carpenter bee is finished with that tomato flower? A tomato invariably develops.

And these bees can hit THOUSANDS of tomato flowers in the space of a week or two. I should know. Venus and I hosted a Carpenter Bee last year that we could hear coming from 50-yards off. There was no mistaking his entry into the backyard. Our "Battleship Missouri" would normally locate us in the yard -- buzz by our heads to announce his presence -- and head straight for the raised beds that held our heirloom tomato, melon and squash crops.

Is it any wonder why we had a monster year last summer for tomato production?

I also used to visit Greg's blog often to take in photos of the mature fruit and citrus trees that abound in this neighborhood. These are MONSTER trees people. They're big enough to feed an entire block -- let alone just one home. A nearby pomegranate -- for example -- would keep you pickled in pomegranate cider for an entire year.

To put it into perspective? I'll be in my mid-to-late fifties before I even begin to approach that kind of production in my own backyard. And -- although I do have that "distinguished gray" look -- I'm not even close to sniffing fifty yet people!

Greg surprised me when I arrived. Not only did he present me with my very own Mason and Carpenter Bee hive -- he also handed me a large box of some of the juciest -- most delectable -- Meyer Lemons I'd seen in quite some time. How do I know they were juicy? Because I juiced some of them just last night. It only took ten of them to create a half-gallon of lip-smacking lemonade.

Meyer Lemons are the BOMB! In Greg's neighborhood? The trees are so large and so productive that you can pick year round -- and still not quite get every last one.

Now -- I don't know about you -- but to me? That's a slice of Heaven.

We put those lemons to *good* use last night with not just lemonade -- but we mixed that home-grown creation with fresh strawberries and freshly harvested honey from the Hello Kitty Hive. Throw in some ice and a little more than a splash of tequila -- and you have one FINE margarita on the rocks.

This is the first time Venus and I have broken into the hive to harvest the honey that our bees left behind. And they left a METRIC TON of it. Just one frame resulted in the production of 10 lbs. of pure -- golden honey. And there are still nine wax-capped frames to go.

As for Greg? His gifts will result in a return gardening gift of heirloom tomato starter plants later this spring -- and I imagine he just might enjoy a jar of honey to boot. Lord knows -- I have enough of it. And with the way that fellow blogger Garry Erck is capturing wild hive swarms in El Dorado County? Looks like I'll have some new *BUZZ* activity in that hive sooner than Venus and I expected.