Or What? Are You Gonna Release the Hounds, or the Bees, or the Hounds with Bees in Their Mouths so Every Time They Bark at You They Shoot Bees at You?

So there I stood, in a swarm of 15,120 honey bees looking for their queen. Actually, I was looking for the queen myself. Yesterday, when the postman dropped the box of three pounds of bees on my doorstep, the package arrived with instructions that said what to do with the queen, but didn't specify where she was located. After dumping the bees into the hive (No small feat, but a great workout for your arms) I opened a can hoping to find the queen inside: nope, just more bees.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour (time slows down when you have have thousands of little stinger-ed creatures  flying all around you), Drek pointed out a small metal hook in the box. The queen was put safely into the hive and then I assembled the rest of the hive. I started to walk away, but the bees followed me. I think that sugar water I sprayed all over their frames must have gotten onto me. They thought I was dinner.

I took off my gloves and one brave bee landed on my hand. It walked around for a bit before stopping on the top of my wedding ring. It seemed very content there. So content I had to gently blow it away to make it leave.

I'm worried the queen didn't survive the shaking, but we have to wait a few days before finding out. Other than that, it was a great experience! I look forward to a long and productive relationship with my new hive!