Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Why are the bees copping such a sarcastic attitude all of a sudden? I blew a little smoke from my beloved pipe, hoshchey Kthe Deathless, on the hive. They’re all waving their bee butts around, like “Oh, smoke? Really? What a surprise.” And going back to their business, rebuilding damaged nests for pupae and collecting propolis. Right away I could tell they were upset with me for something. I took a puff from Khoshchey and began to review my actions during the last few days, as the cloud of bees around me gave me the “oh no, everythings fine, why do you ask” look. On Tuesday I brought a troika of collected “under-leaf buds of white birch, poplar and aspens, which allow bees to create in beehives the ideal protection - propolis.” They seemed quite pleased, as they waggled their pollinators and began to help me “vanish [my] anxieties concerning danger of «age illnesses», premature breakdown and withering of appearance.” On Friday I had left my terrible assistant Foma unconscious in the mud near the beehive. He just smelt too terrible to keep him in, or near, my troika. I covered him with mud and layers of club moss in hopes that something in nature might biodegrade the horrible stench of his normal life. I hadn’t thought of the bees actually being affected by my leaving him nearby. After all, they don’t have noses at all, DO THEY? If I had Google I might have figured out that “Honey bees (Apis mellifera) have 170 odorant receptors” and that they get supremely PO’d about leaving Foma so close to the hive. However I live in 1466, before Google or the journal Genome Research. I have to go with my gut. And I just wanted to retrieve my disgusting assistant Foma after I was done getting some honey from the bees, and toss his drunken form back onto the troika after the smell quieted down. But no. All those odorant receptors TOTALLY RUINED the bees’ weekend. No bee girls would come over after the sock hop. None of the little bees out flagging down cars for a car wash (sorry troikas for a troika wash, I forgot I live in 1466) got anybody to stop, cause once they rolled down their birch-paper windows they got a whiff of Foma’s ungodly stench and stamped on their slate accelerator pedals out of Tver!! So, that’s why the bees are totally dissing me.
at 4:05 AM