I found more renters for my property in the woods, moving them in over the weekend. Actually, they moved themselves in, but I had to be there to install a new kitchen sink faucet and work on the plumbing again.

Upon doing an inspection after the last renter left, I found that one of the twin sinks in the bathroom was leaking and the supply lines for the kitchen weren't up to par either.

Totally unprepared, as usual, I realized I would need to climb under the house. Not only did I not have a pair of coveralls, I was wearing my nice pants and shirt.

I dug through the truck and found a rag which used to be a pair of pajama bottoms. They were plaid with green and yellow accents. I also carry an old jacket in a blue checkered pattern with me for working outside, so I put that on as well. A young girl who was helping the new tenants move boxes was overcome with laughter as she saw the ‘old guy' in pajamas and a lumberjack shirt. Upon looking at myself, I laughed also. It was unavoidable.

The underside of the house was filled with spiders, creepy crawly things and things that scampered away quickly in the dark. Armed with my little flashlight, which I had to stick in my mouth as I crept under the beams of the floor, I started out from the access door and made my way through the darkness. I hate getting into tight places, but the pipes had to go to an area with a ceiling height of only about two feet. Adding to the fun, the pipes that were under there had been leaking for some time, making several areas like a quagmire. I had to carry along fittings, pipes and glue, the smaller pieces in my pockets and the pipes stuffed under my arm.

I have found that the best thing to do with spiders is ignore them. They seldom ever pay attention to me if I don't pay attention to them. However, the biggest spider I saw was in a web, half eaten. That kind of bothered me a little.

After crawling some 30 feet back out from under the house backwards, I took off my sporty duds, only to realize that my pocket knife had slipped out of my jacket pocket, which had a hole in the bottom corner. After putting my garb back on, I finally found the knife in one of the smallest parts of the crawl space.

It took the better part of five hours to complete the work, but at least the place isn't vacant now. When I left, the new tenants were busy painting a bedroom and vacuuming the window sills. I like them already.

The Bees

Later, I decided to try and check in on my bee hive, an experience that proved less than enjoyable and more than memorable. If I could go back and put a soundtrack to the experience, I would likely play "Flight of the Bumblebee."

My earlier attempts to move the last bee hive to Sparta have bordered on ridiculous. I first went there to get it and my help kicked one of the hive supports, rocking the hive and causing the bees to come outside and hamper further attempts to move it before the screen door could be put in place. My second attempt ended in failure when I realized that the screen door I was nailing onto the hive was over too far to one side, resulting in a gap large enough for several hundred bees to escape through. Luckily, bees don't fly at night unless some light is available. I managed to escape without a sting, even though I wasn't wearing my bee gear. The hive body, or part that can be seen on the outside with the door opening in the front, was not standard. My screen door was meant to be placed on a standard hive, so I didn't realize that it wasn't in the right place until the ill-tempered bees started streaming out. As for the hive, I purchased it in Dobson from a certain Mr. Cave, who has since passed away. There was very little standard about him, but that's a story for another time.

To make a long story short, I went to a bee meeting in Wilkes when I was first starting up and won a free hive of bees. What they didn't tell you was that the hive itself wasn't included.

After that fiasco, I opted to move the bees into a new hive and try again another time. I put on my equipment, smoked the hive with some burlap that I have just for such purposes and then moved the frames inside to the new container. I also added on a ‘super' for honey storage, which is like the main part of the hive, only smaller.

I also put a feeder on top and poured in some sugar syrup, which helps the bees get started in the spring. Last year it rained so often that they never did really get started.

Anyway, I went back a week or so later to see how they were doing. I can usually approach a hive from the side or back and watch them without worrying. However, this particular hive has had enough of seeing me. I must of gotten too close and one of the ‘guards' came out and zapped me under the arm, just on my back. The stinger barely touched the skin and didn't really penetrate. I opted to retreat, dropping my hat and sunglasses in the process.

I noticed that a couple of the guards were following me, which is not standard bee procedure. Usually they leave you alone once you get away from their house. I finally managed to knock the chasers down and go into the building.

Inside I noticed four little holes where the bee had tried to sting me. I was very glad he chose a place where my shirt didn't cling closely to my skin.

After giving the bees time to calm down, I went back to get my hat and glasses. Immediately three or four of the bees were buzzing around me angrily, trying to sting me. I moved back to safer quarters. After doing that, "Oh my Lord, bees are attacking me" dance, which prompted much laughter from my renter, I moved to the far side of the yard. Soon another bee, on its way to a flower, noticed me and also tried to sting me.

This is not normal for honey bees, which I can usually work with without fear of stings. Very seldom do they attack or try to sting at all, let alone attack aggressively.

I decided to get into the truck and try to figure out what was going on. I sat down and proceeded to take off my shirt. There, where the bee had tried to sting me earlier, was the abdomen of my attacker. When bees sting someone, they put off a chemical signal that tells the other bees to attack. It is their way of organizing their defenses of the hive.

Once I changed my shirt, the bees didn't seem to notice me at all. I was very thankful for that, since the whole swatting at angry bees thing isn't my idea of a good time. Needless to say, none of this would have happened if I had done a good job moving the bees to start with. Yes, and valuable experience is something you don't get until just after you need it, too.

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