We were just talking about this.
I just now saw a beeswarm, all bunched up at the base of a tree! My sister and I want a beehive. I should box it up, leave the box in my office all afternoon, carry it on my bike to the train station, take our swarm on the two hour train ride, ride another twenty minutes with the box in my arms and bring our bees home to us! It's perfect.
8 Comments:
Let's think ... maybe I could get a swarm of African killer bees and bring them onto the train tonight, a nice little surprise for the SCA's ... yeah, sounds wonderful. Thanks for the idea.
Only if it won't fit in your pocket. Then you could leave it there until the weekend, and wear the same pants out to Oakland! Simple.
You wouldn't have to worry about the sketchy inhabitants of North Oakland if you were armed with a beehive.
You could coax them into a fashionable garment.
That was a sign Megan. You may never have that opportunity again ...
How are you resisting using my favourite phrase, which is: "What could possibly go wrong?"
My Dad was transporting a hive of honeybees up a mountain range in the back of his 4wd wagon. Around one particular tight corner, the box broke open.
They DIDN'T swarm everywhere. They marched. A slow, steady advancing line from the back of the car towards the front seats, where my brother was perched staring at them, while Dad drove as quickly as he could. This was a narrow mountain road. No stopping.
By the time they reached our property, my brother was wedged up against the windscreen and Dad had the advance bees crawling up his legs.
They opened the car doors and bolted. Then Dad had to get changed into the bee suit and try to put things back together.
What could possibly go wrong?
Even if the bees objected, and gave Megan a few stings, I'm sure some hot boy would spot her and rub her poor stung body with soothing lotion, making sure - since she would probably be a bit breathless and unready to speak - not to miss a single spot, whether a bee had visited it or not.
Go for it, Megan!
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