"I'm covered in bees!!!"  More Bees With Knees Please, Part Deux....

Reservoir Bees

So, after weeks of anticipation, the day had finally arrived.  It was time to finally get my bee on.  Obviously, as my faithful readers know, I had gone on a bee-keeping class in the lovely Tenderloin district about month or so ago where I met the delightful (and still adorably cute) Xander who was brilliantly enthusiastic and informative about all things buzzy.  As you will also know, we weren't able to get into the classroom that day as the janitor had made off with the keys, were not able to get to the bee suits for that Full On Eddie Izzard experience.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs-tl6GBOBo

But - I arrived at the Glide Memorial church again today, just before 10am (fortunately, I knew more what to expect this time re the area of town - but there wasn't anyone passed out on the street in front of the door this time - perhaps they'd also been out with Mr Potato Head and his gang too the night before, so were still off recovering somewhere).  Feeling like the seasoned bee-keeping pro I was by this stage, I merely told the guy at the front desk I was here for bee-keeping and, in a knowing "yeah, I got this" kinda way, told him I knew where to go and headed for the stairs.  I trekked all the way up the 8 flights of stairs to join the group on the rooftop, got all the way to the top and, slightly winded but excited, pushed the door to the rooftop garden open.

Bee out shopping with their pollen basket... very cool

And promptly set off the alarm.

Awesome.  Way to hit it out of the park, Sarah.  So, I made my way all the way back down to the ground floor, the alarm ringing (or perhaps even laughing) in my ears and sheepishly headed to the front desk where I fessed up that I'd accidently set the alarm off on the roof and where....um.... did i need to go for the bee class?  They weren't terribly happy about having to hike on up to the roof but did tersely tell me that I need to go to the classroom on the second floor, so i thanked them and scampered quickly away.  Not the most auspicious start to the day. But I found the classroom and went on in - to find about 12 people already there, sitting round a large conference style table, looking (frankly) kinda miserable and not saying much.  It was a totally different vibe from my previous class and I wondered whether holding it on the rooftop beforehand, in the beautiful sunshine surrounded by plants and hummingbirds, was a better setting and loosened people up.

What everyone is wearing this season, dahlink....

On the bright side, however, the lovely Xander was teaching again - he wasn't supposed to have been teaching today but the other instructor hadn't turned up and I guess he got drafted in at the last minute.  He was still as adorable as ever and as enthusiastic and just damned smart about all things bee.  He's pretty scientific in how he talks - which (as a science nerd at heart) I really enjoy - but I do wonder how many people follow along when he starts to talk about the haploidy and diploidy genetics of bees.  Its bloody fascinating stuff though and I learnt a whole new raft of bee facts.

He talked a lot more this time about the social hierarchy of bees and, I guess, the bee career ladder (I wonder if bees have an HR department - though i guess it would be called a BR department).  In terms of bee infrastructure, the entry level position for a bee (I guess this would be for a new-bee) is in the janitorial division - cleaning the hive, keeping things ship(hive) shape and buzzy fashion.  Then, after you graduate from those bee chores, the next step up has you feeding and taking care of the larvae.  Bees feed all larvae royal jelly initially up until a certain point - after that, if they continue to feed the larvae with royal jelly it will (assuming its a female larvae) turn into the queen.  Hence the kerfuffle about royal jelly and the medicinal/special properties people think it possesses (which is totally unproven).  Given royal jelly is this stuff that bees secrete out of their heads (eeeuuwww) and that honey is no more than bee spit, its all a bit gross when you start to think about it too deeply.

For the love of God, don't drop it....

Anyway, before I put you all off your toast and honey, the next step-up is then to take a more active role in the hive in terms of defending the entrance, preventing rival bees from entering and stealing your honey, as well as defending against any nasty ants or even mice.  The mice thing was interesting.  I think you'd have to be pretty dumb mouse to think that hanging out in a bee hive would be a good idea but apparently it does happen sometimes, especially in winter, as the insides of bee hives are maintained at a constant, temperature between 34 - 35 degrees C.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/wildlife/7435950/Honey-bees-secret-world-of-heat-revealed.html

Bee-ing very careful.....

Apparently what happens in those kinds of situations is that the bees, obviously, will kill the intruder but - instead of trying to drag it out of the hive (which would take a lot of energy and effort) - will then entomb it in this very sticky substance called propolis.  According to the great oracle Wikipedia, propolis is a resinous mixture they collect from tree buds, sap flows or other botanical sources.  It is used as a sealant for unwanted opens spaces in the hive and is used for small gaps, while larger spaces are usually filled with beeswax.  Or dead mice wrapped in propolis.

Finally, the pinnacle of the bee career pyramid is the actual pollen collection - and here's the very poignant fact you might not know about this.  Only the old bees go out to get pollen.  The young, vibrant healthy bees are the ones doing all the scut work back in the hive, gift wrapping rodents and fixing the HVAC.  Because flying out to find and bring back pollen is such an arduous task and so rough on a poor little bee's body, only the old ones are sent out into the most hazardous of all environments - ie those that only already have a limited life-span left. So they are the ones who, after a lifetime of long, hard service, get sent out into the wild to fly for miles to find pollen, try to evade predators and survive wind currents ripping holes in their wings.  And you think you sometimes have a hard day in the office?

So, that was kinda sad, really.  Zander then lightened the mood somewhat by explaining to us about how the drone bees exist solely to fertilize the queen bee on her single mating flight - the only time she ever leaves the hive - and how aerial, drone sex requires good eyesight.  Hence the reason drone bees have VERY large eyes (thats one of the main ways you can tell a drone bee from a worker bee).  One of the other things that I learned was that the stingers of worker bees (which are all female, btw) are actually reformed ovodepositors.  Who knew?

Oh, hey.  What?  Oh... yeah.

I'm holding about 1,000 bees right now.  No sweat.

Anyway, after about an hour and a half of fascinating bee facts, the crowd was getting restless and one gobby woman in particular kept asking if it was time to go up to the roof and see the bees yet.  I guess, having already seen them, I wasn't in as much of a rush but I was, too, looking forward to getting all suited up, so was happy when Xander finally said it was time to get into our bee suits.  They were pretty easy to get into - basically, big white overalls, with elasticated cuffs at the ankles and wrists to prevent little furry visitors crawling inside, topped with a big hat mesh-type thing that you zipped up from the front, then from the sides.  You then put on long gloves that covered your cuffs and you were ready!

Conducting bee audits are slow and painstaking work.....
One..two... thr....wait!... come back!... dammit....one... two.. three...

And so up we went!  I must say, i was glad i'd been up the time before as I'd had time to fully appreciate the beauty and tranquility of the rooftop garden without 14 other bee astronauts milling around, bumping into things and one another (the visibility in a bee suit - especially one that is XXXL - ain't all that great!).  But at least this time, i was fully suited up and protected against any errant stinging action, so we all made our way over to the hives where Xander, as he had before, carefully opened up the hive and pulled out a frame, so that we could look in detail at all the various elements of what was going on that he'd explained to us earlier.

Obviously, this time, because   I had gloves on, I actually got to hold the frame and look at the bees in close proximity - whilst at the same time saying to myself "don't drop it, don't drop it" - there were probably at least 500 bees on the frame I was holding, so that wouldn't have been a great situation.  One HUGE bonus none of us expected, even Xander, was that - on the frame he'd selected to pull out was the queen bee herself!!

Just hanging out til we buzz off

This was really unusual, as the queen bee usually sticks to the lower down racks but - there she was, larger than life and going about her business, checking all the cells of that frame to see which ones needed eggs laid in them and that all was in order.  I would never have spotted her amongst the hundreds of bees but, once pointed out, she really is quite distinctive in appearance and looks very different to all the surrounding worker and drone bees.  It did raise the stakes for poor old Xander, though, putting that frame back into the hive knowing that - if he accidently crushed her, the entire hive would collapse and die.  No pressure there, then.

Queen bee!  Queen bee!!!  A quite remarkable and
unusual privilege to have spotted her

But, all was well and I finally got to say out loud (although to myself, otherwise people would think i was crazy) that "I'm covered in bee!".  I could only see one on my hand, hence the singularity, but I still managed to have a lovely private moment of Izzardness, which made it all worthwhile and worth the wait.  And - with that - my bee experience was over - for now.  But it was a lot of fun and - if I ever did find myself in the situation that i was able to keep a hive, I would seriously consider it.  They are bloody marvelous creatures, endlessly fascinating, little genetic powerhouses - and they make honey.  What more could you possibly want from an insect?

"I'm covered in bee"