| Family Non-Fiction posted April 12, 2022 |
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Our summer of the bees.
Killer Bees
by prettybluebirds
You hear talk of killer bees today, but I would have sworn we had a hive of them in the past. My Dad often ordered honey bees through the mail, and the year nineteen-fifty-seven was one of those times.
It is essential to have bees on fruit farms to pollinate the trees, so we kids learned to keep our distance from the hives. However, we soon learned the new bees were different and attacked anything or anyone that moved. It didn't matter how far away we were from their habitat, those little stingers were out for blood. You could be in the middle of the orchard picking cherries, and here they came. They were vicious too. If you swatted at them it just made them angrier, and nothing short of death would stop them. Theirs or yours, it didn't matter.
The Mexicans we hired got so they were afraid to go into the orchards and threatened to work for another farmer if Dad didn't do something about the critters. Our dog hid under the porch and stayed there until dark every day. Mom was afraid to hang clothes outside or work in the garden. Even the chickens seemed suspicious of the winged terrors. Those little tyrants almost brought our farm to a standstill.
Dad decided the bees had to go. He waited until after dark, then put on his bee handling outfit and, equipped with a smoker, went out to defeat the enemy. The bees soon got their comeuppance.
The next day it was nice to go outside without fear for one's life. Dad later told us the bees were a new species from Germany called Black German Bees. They supposedly produced more honey than our American breeds did.
Dad replaced the bees and life returned to normal. It took a few days for our stings to heal and the chickens to calm down. The dog eventually came out from under the porch.
Family Memories writing prompt entry
You hear talk of killer bees today, but I would have sworn we had a hive of them in the past. My Dad often ordered honey bees through the mail, and the year nineteen-fifty-seven was one of those times.
It is essential to have bees on fruit farms to pollinate the trees, so we kids learned to keep our distance from the hives. However, we soon learned the new bees were different and attacked anything or anyone that moved. It didn't matter how far away we were from their habitat, those little stingers were out for blood. You could be in the middle of the orchard picking cherries, and here they came. They were vicious too. If you swatted at them it just made them angrier, and nothing short of death would stop them. Theirs or yours, it didn't matter.
The Mexicans we hired got so they were afraid to go into the orchards and threatened to work for another farmer if Dad didn't do something about the critters. Our dog hid under the porch and stayed there until dark every day. Mom was afraid to hang clothes outside or work in the garden. Even the chickens seemed suspicious of the winged terrors. Those little tyrants almost brought our farm to a standstill.
Dad decided the bees had to go. He waited until after dark, then put on his bee handling outfit and, equipped with a smoker, went out to defeat the enemy. The bees soon got their comeuppance.
The next day it was nice to go outside without fear for one's life. Dad later told us the bees were a new species from Germany called Black German Bees. They supposedly produced more honey than our American breeds did.
Dad replaced the bees and life returned to normal. It took a few days for our stings to heal and the chickens to calm down. The dog eventually came out from under the porch.
It is essential to have bees on fruit farms to pollinate the trees, so we kids learned to keep our distance from the hives. However, we soon learned the new bees were different and attacked anything or anyone that moved. It didn't matter how far away we were from their habitat, those little stingers were out for blood. You could be in the middle of the orchard picking cherries, and here they came. They were vicious too. If you swatted at them it just made them angrier, and nothing short of death would stop them. Theirs or yours, it didn't matter.
The Mexicans we hired got so they were afraid to go into the orchards and threatened to work for another farmer if Dad didn't do something about the critters. Our dog hid under the porch and stayed there until dark every day. Mom was afraid to hang clothes outside or work in the garden. Even the chickens seemed suspicious of the winged terrors. Those little tyrants almost brought our farm to a standstill.
Dad decided the bees had to go. He waited until after dark, then put on his bee handling outfit and, equipped with a smoker, went out to defeat the enemy. The bees soon got their comeuppance.
The next day it was nice to go outside without fear for one's life. Dad later told us the bees were a new species from Germany called Black German Bees. They supposedly produced more honey than our American breeds did.
Dad replaced the bees and life returned to normal. It took a few days for our stings to heal and the chickens to calm down. The dog eventually came out from under the porch.
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Writing Prompt Word count--300-350 NO vulgar words, profanity, or sex/no satire |
 Recognized |
#57 April 2022 |
One of those bees stung me under the eye and it was swollen shut for almost a week. Their stings were extremely painful and more potent than other bees. We were glad to see them gone.
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one point
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