Meet my 30,000(ish) new houseguests!

So, some may have noticed a note I posted last night. Pics were requested, so here's the story.

Yesterday afternoon, at what has become the neighborhood kids' "let's fool around after dinner" time, I brought my daughter out to see who was riding on what scooter, or who had inflated what leaky pool, etc. The whole neighborhood was crowded at my next-door-neighbor's house, to witness this:



Yes, it's a honeybee swarm. My neighbor had already called an exterminator, who wasn't going to make it until the next day. Mrs. Robb, of course, had other plans. I was just happily taking pictures.



The swarm was acorn-shaped, about the size of two basketballs, and was 100% bees -- on a branch about at eye level. Here's the close-up:



Anyhow, Mrs. Robb kept bees back when she was in the Peace Corps in South America. She mulled it over a bit, and finally told me we were adopting the bees. She cleared it with the neighbor (who really just wanted to get 30,000 bees a little further away from his front door!), and she found a beekeeping supply place that not only answered their phone at 8:30 on a Sunday night, but whose owner hopped in his car to go open the store so Mrs. Robb could buy a nice bee box ready-to-go.

Apparently there's some urgency to these things; when bees swarm, it's because they've ditched their old hive as being too small. They're kind of hanging out (!) while the scouts go find a new spot to set up shop. It only lasts a day or two; the bee store dude was amazed at the serendipity of someone with experience handling bees getting a swarm they could reach without a ladder right next door. It seems people spend a lot of time looking for bees.

Anyhoo. She ran out and got the box while my helper and I suited up.



OK, she didn't really help. She's 3. But she caught me in the early moments when I was still considering wearing a motorcycle helmet. Hell, I was planning to look like an astronaut, but when Mrs. Robb didn't even wear the goggles I dutifully brought her, I felt like a weenie.

So, I wore the goggles.

The plan was to walk over with the big branch loppers, and I'd cut through the branch the bees were on while Mrs. Robb held the branch itself; once I'd cut the branch, she'd just walk out of the neighbors' yard and into ours, then plop the bees into their new box. My neighbor held the flashlights -- 30 feet back.

You'll understand why I don't have any pictures of me trying to cut a branch without waking up 30,000 bees inches from my helmet-less face. But I managed it, and to my amazement (if not Mrs. Robb's), the little dudes barely budged. In fact, as I was walking ahead and opening gates and such, I snapped off a picture of my eternally-surprising-me-with-mad-skillz wife, holding the new charges right before she dropped 'em in.



Nothing sexier than a woman in a balaclava carrying a swarm of bees.

Next I took the lid off the bee box, removed a few of the vertical comb dealies to make some room, and she tapped the branch and knocked the bees in. After a bit we put the comb deals back in (sorry I don't know what they're called, it's my first day!). At first they didn't fit snugly -- there were bees underneath! Eventually the little guys worked their way down, we put on the lid, and went to bed.

And they stuck around. Here they are this morning:



Nice digs, I think. Plus they're right next to several established apple, peach and pear trees. Strawberries and raspberries, too, all of which I hope will also see the benefit of a local bee population.

I'd say "ask me anything," but I still know nothing. Tell me anything!