The bird and the bees and the flowers and the trees

We started to get a used to  living in the country in Mason, Michigan.  It was a 5 acre property with a pond. The guy we bought it from was a forestry prof at MSU and the place had about every type of tree that Noah had remembered to throw in the back of the ark.  As he showed us the place he had to give a little history on each one and after about 3 hours of this tour I was not sure I needed to know that much more about trees.  Anyway, we did settle in and started to learn how to live out there. A popular TV show at that time was the show "Green Acres" and this place kind of had that feel right down to the pig Arnold Ziffle which I will tell you about in a moment. Some of the neighbors would raise a few animals and I was never sure if these things were pets or if they would once in a while be replaced as the original pets found their way to the dinner table.   The guy from 2 doors down came over one day and asked I if I had seen one of his pigs that had escaped from his pen.  I asked him for the description.  Mostly black with a white spot on the side, about 200 lbs and a curly tail, was what he could remember.  

That night Deb and I heard a huge commotion outside.  A bunch of dogs barking (or coyotes),  then a really loud screech and then silence.  With no ideas what had happened we left the next morning for a 3 day trip someplace.  Upon our return we noticed the most awful smell right when we got out of the car. I looked around a little but saw nothing.  The next morning the smell was bad enough that you could notice it inside the house.  I looked outside and there was something big floating in our pond.  It did have a white spot and by this time had experienced the fate of all animals who reside deceased in water for several days.  This thing was really big now.

I went down to get the neighbor and reported that I thought I had maybe found his pig.  He came over to check it out and looked at the thing for a while and after some thought reported that he did not think this was his pig.  I said "Terry that has got to be your pig. It has a white spot and everything.  I could use a little help getting this thing out of the pond."  He told me that he could tell it was not his pig because his had a tail that was more curly.  After a short argument about how it might be possible that the tail could lose some curl after 3-4 days in the water, he left for home and I was left with the chore of digging a pretty good sized pig grave on the property.  The act of using my lawn tractor to get this thing out of the pond and in that grave was not one of my finer moments.  Deb watched the event from the house and I think might have started to formulate some thoughts about how long we might want to stay in the country. 

Given the flowers and the trees that were on this place, plus a nice orchard, I somehow came up with the idea that having a bee hive might also be a good idea. I might suggest that if any of the readers are interested in this that some experience is needed. Working with another beekeeper would be a good thing.  The way this works is that you get a white hive with all sorts of contraptions on the inside for the bees to store the honey. Then your order a few things to protect your hands and head and you order 2-3 pounds of bees. When they arrive you put your stuff on and dump the bees in the hive.   Thinking and picturing bees from all around coming to join yours is what I sort of had in mind, but this is not how this works. Your bees start living in the hive and the queen lays a bunch of eggs.  Some of the bees go get pollen, some build stuff in the hive to make things more comfortable. Some of them work on fertilizing the eggs and in my hive some must have been assigned to sting the guy that owns the hive.  Every month or so you are supposed to open the hive and extract the things they put the honey on and do a few other housekeeping things to keep the bees happy.  The method you use to make this possible is to introduce some smoke in the hive. They give you a bellow looking thing that you put some leaves in, light them, and blow a little smoke in the entrance.  This somehow makes the bees docile and lets you work on the hive for about a half hour.  I think the first time I did this I must have worked the bellows a little to much and along with the smoke were some flames. By the time I was done with this thing these bees were a little mad.  I noticed that some of the bees had wings that were a little exposed to more than normal heat and a few of these things were walking around in the bottom of the hive.  I had the only walking bee brigade in the county.  I finally got better at it and over time got to the point of feeling somewhat experienced at the thing.

My Dad came over one day and wanted to see how this all worked. We put the bee stuff on him and he started to open and look at the hive. I was going to talk him through what to do. Some where along the way he jarred something that alarmed the bees.  Of the 50,000 bees in the hive about 49,000 were soon swirling around his head.  When dad put the bee suit on he had neglected to tie rubber bands around the pant cuffs.  I saw a few low flying bees fly into  this area.  A certain amount of panic had set in but I told dad to stand still and I thought things would be OK.  I soon heard a load OUCH and then about two more and soon he was running around the yard yelling and slapping his legs. I am not sure what he preached about the next morning but I do know it was preached with abut 12 big welts up and down his legs.


Deb was up at the house  watching the whole thing and pretty soon I looked over and she was laying on the ground. I was worried that a few stray bees had made their way over there and she was hurt but when I arrived she was laughing so hard she could not stand up.  When she did compose herself she asked if we were having fun yet and it took her a while to recover and wipe the laughter tears away.  She did find some salve to help my dad recover from about 12 bee stings and the next time he was over she told him how glad she was to see him because we needed some more help working on the bee hive.

By the time the whole ordeal was done we got about 2 jars of honey.  We put the jars up on the shelf and would often speculate as to the value of those jars.  I do know that break even point was around $100 each. That is about what it cost to go see a big name comedian.  And even the best pro comedian could not have made Deb laugh so hard, so maybe it was worth it. She walked around the house for a couple days humming "Let me tell you bout the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees---and a thing called love".  I asked her to stop it, but the tune by now was in her head...she said.

We moved to the city where we belonged.  By the way, moved there with three of us. I get to tell you abut that the next time....The birth of a son.... this time with good results.....and a few moments of laughter in the adventure....Until then.........................