Jimmie Rodgers – "Honeycomb" (1957)

It’s kinda funny

How the bee was made

And the bee made the honey

NOTE: In the last 2 or 3 lines, I introduced you to my former work colleague, Kerri Griffin, who became a beekeeper last year.  Kerri and her family are huge fans of Disney World, but had to cancel a planned trip to Orlando recently due to the coronavirus pandemic.  So Kerri used some of the time that she would have spent waiting in line to see the “Country Bear Jamboree” or take the “It’s a Small World” ride and put it to good use by writing an essay about queen and other bees for 2 or 3 lines.  Kerri, take it away!

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When the esteemed author of 2 or 3 lines offered me the chance to write about my idée fixe of the moment – honeybees – well, I just couldn’t say no. 

About a year ago, I became a beekeeper – not long after my husband and I moved our family from the Washington, DC suburbs to the Piedmont area of Virginia.  I started by setting up my first two beehives in our backyard, and we welcomed about 20,000 honeybees to the family.

Kerri and her kids,
dressed to visit her bees

It wasn’t long before I realized how much I (like most people) didn’t know about these amazing creatures.  And the more I learn and experience, the more I am in awe of honeybees and their resilience, not to mention their importance to our world. 

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Today’s featured song was a #1 hit for Jimmie Rodgers in 1957.

[NOTE: This Jimmie Rodgers was no relation to the legendary country-western singer of the same name who was known for his distinctive yodeling style, and is considered by many to be the father of American country music.  That Jimmie Rodgers died of tuberculosis at age 35 the same year – 1933 –  that our Jimmie Rodgers was born.]

Not only is “Honeycomb” a nice country/pop crossover record, it’s also a great jumping-off point for a discussion about bees.

The first verse is a little allegory of the importance of bees and their central role in our ecosystem.  The bee was God’s first creation, followed by trees, then birds, then romantic love – like the love between the singer and his honey. 

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As you are probably aware, the honeybee plays a key role in our food production.  Of course, we’re all aware of the bees’ culinary contribution in the form of honey, but a full third of the crops grown in America depend to some extent on pollination by honeybees.  

It’s interesting that the singer refers to his girlfriend as “Honeycomb” instead of calling her his “queen bee.”  

How many times have you heard a woman declare herself to be a queen bee – or a man use that same trope to describe his wife or girlfriend?   

It’s a ubiquitous expression, and that’s understandable: there is a widely-held view that the queen bee is the boss of her colony – a paragon of strength and beauty (not to mention booty!) who expects to be worshipped by her underlings. 

She even has an entourage of attendants who feed and groom her all day.  Who wouldn’t love that?

A queen bee surrounded
by her attendants

But though she is vital to the survival of a colony, this image of the queen bee as a spoiled diva is really a myth.  The facts paint a far grimmer picture of the queen bee’s existence.

I’d like to pause here and note that, while I find “Honeycomb” a sweet tribute to Jimmie’s beloved, I do take issue with these lines: “Got a hank o' hair and a piece o' bone / And made a walkin' talkin' Honeycomb.” This makes her sound more like a hairball than a divine creation.  Anyway, back to the queen bee and her harsh existence.

The struggle is real.  A newborn queen – known as a virgin queen – must fight for her life from the moment she breaks from her cocoon-like queen cell.  After emerging, she patrols the hive looking for other queen cells containing a pupating rival.  Upon finding one, she inserts her stinger, efficiently killing her competitor.  

It is possible, however, for her to be too late to the party, resulting in two or more virgin queens occupying the hive at the same time.  To resolve this complication, a virgin queen will emit a high-pitched tweet, known as “piping,” to challenge any rival to a fight to the death.  (And we thought our first hours of life were precarious!) 

[You can click here to watch a video of virgin queens piping.]

Queen bees live much longer than the other members of the colony.  While worker bees only live about six weeks, and drones die after mating or are forced out of the hive as winter approaches, the queen can live up to three years.  

However, a queen bee is virtually tethered to the hive for her entire lifetime.  She will only leave home twice in her life: to mate (her “wedding flight”) and to swarm.  (If the queen decided to strike out on her own, she could never survive because she lacks the ability to digest food – her attendants do that for her, and feed her directly from their mouths to hers.)

A bee colony swarms when it decides that it has outgrown its space, or there is something undesirable about its space. When the time is right, the queen and half of the colony leave to set up a new colony elsewhere. 

[You can click here to see a video of a beekeeper efficiently capturing a swarm of bees and relocating it to one of his hives.]

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Think your stay-at-home life during the coronavirus pandemic is boring?  The queen does the same thing all day, day in and day out.  Her majesty’s daily routine never varies: all she does is lay eggs – something she is quite proficient at.  

The queen doesn’t lay eggs in the winter.  But during the hive’s population build-up in spring, a queen can lay between 1,000 and 1,500 eggs per day! 

Queens deposit both fertilized eggs (which will produce female worker bees) and unfertilized eggs (which will produce male drones).  But the queen doesn’t really decide which type of eggs to lay.  The worker bees make that decision: a cell where a drone egg will go is constructed by the workers to be just the slightest bit wider, since drones are fatter than workers.  The queen knows which egg to lay by measuring the cells with her front legs. 

By the way, “brood comb” – where eggs are deposited – are located only in certain areas of the hive.  (The developing bees are known collectively as the “brood.”)

Brood comb

The queen does possess one superpower, however.  She constantly releases a pheromone that prevents the workers’ ovaries from producing eggs.  

If a hive goes without a queen for too long, the effect of the pheromone wears off and after a while you have a problem with egg-laying workers bees.  The worker bees start laying eggs, but those eggs will only produce drones because they are unfertilized.  

This spells doom for the colony because the only job the drones know how to do is to mate.  They don’t collect pollen or nectar, nor do they carry out any other jobs vital to the colony’s health (i.e., nursing brood, guarding the hive entrance, or cleaning house). 

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A queen bee experiences a form of body shaming.  Once the queen has mated and her abdomen becomes swollen with eggs, she is too heavy to fly.  So what happens when the colony decides to swarm and establish a new hive?  

She’s put on a crash diet.  Her attendants stop feeding her and they start pushing her around the hive to burn off her excess fat.  To keep her moving, they may bite her or grab her with their forearms to shake her violently.

Moreover, her majesty is held to the highest standards of perfection.  If the colony detects any flaw in its queen, they will kill her and create a new queen.  

What constitutes a fatal imperfection seems arbitrary and unfair at times.  It may be reasonable to replace a queen is if the quality of her egg-laying has declined.  But a queen may be usurped as the result of a tiny and seemingly irrelevant defect –for example, if she has a slightly shortened leg, or asymmetrical antennae. 

The process of killing the queen is called “balling.”  A large mass of workers literally forms a tight ball around her and generates enough body heat that they cook her to death.  How rude! 

[You can click here to see a video of worker bees “balling” their queen.]

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I explained above how a colony will replace a queen that falls short of expectations.  Beekeepers will also “requeen” the colony if there are signs that the queen’s laying instincts are subpar – she may be guilty of sloppy egg laying, for example— or her egg production drops. 

Beekeepers simply squash such nonproductive queens and replace them with mated queens purchased from a supplier.  (That’s right – there are people who breed and sell queen bees.) 

Though it may seem cruel, requeening helps the colony maintain strong genetics, which helps with pest and disease management.  It also creates a “brood break,” which can interrupt an infestation by one of the biggest threats to a bee colony, the varroa mite:

Varroa mites

So being a real queen bee is hardly a sweet gig.  (You might want to think twice before you call someone a queen bee!)

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It’s not easy being any caste of honeybee.  In addition to worker bees naturally working themselves to an early death at about six weeks of age, there are many external threats to the species.  

Honeybees – who are not native to North America, having been brought here by European colonists in the early 17th century – face many dangers: pesticides and parasites, to name just two.  As a result, honeybee populations are declining despite the feverish efforts of scientists working to reverse that trend. 

How can you help the honeybee? Here are just a few ways:

First of all, protect wildflowers.  Avoid disturbing meadows or other places where patches of wildflowers grow.  Some states allow you to plant wildflowers on public highways when you join an “adopt a highway” program. (Check with your state department of transportation.  And ask them if your state has a special license plate recognizing pollinators – if it doesn’t, you can petition for the creation of one.)

Next, plant a pollinator-friendly garden. (You can click here to get some tips for creating a honeybee-friendly garden from The Honeybee Conservancy.) 

And leave your dandelions alone.  Though they are considered a weed, dandelions are vital to the bees’ survival.  They are the #1 source of food for honeybees in early spring before most plants begin to flower.  I’m not saying you can’t mow your lawn – that may even help spread dandelion seeds – but maybe you can stop squirting every dandelion you see with Roundup.

Speaking of Roundup, laying off pesticides in general will help the bees.  (Maybe you can ask your neighbors to refrain as well.) 

Finally, please leave swarming bees alone.  Swarming bees are just moving to a new home, and pose no threat to humans – in fact, bees are at their most docile while swarming.  They are focused on staying close to their queen and waiting for scout bees to report on their house hunting.  

So if you see a large cluster of bees on a car, structure or patio table, don’t panic. They should move along within several hours (though they may hang around for a day or two).  However, if they don’t move along quickly enough for you, contact your local beekeeping club and see if anyone will come out and catch the swarm.  (Someone should jump at the chance to get free bees!)

I hope you’ve enjoyed this perspective of honeybees and that you’re inspired to learn more about the hardest working insect in “show buzz.”  (Sorry!) There is a ton of information out there for learning about these amazing creatures, so educate yourself.  (You can click here to visit one of my favorite beekeeping websites.)

You’ll amaze people at parties with your new-found knowledge – although I’ve bored my family and friends so much the past year that I should probably get one of these:

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Kerri, thanks for all the time and effort you put into your guest post.

As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing better than a good guest-written 2 or 3 lines post.  It’s a welcome change of pace for my loyal readers, and it saves me a lot of work.  Winner, winner, chicken dinner!

Click here to listen to today’s featured song, “Honeycomb.”

Click on the link below to buy the song from Amazon:

Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys – "Take Me Back to Tulsa" (1941)

Little bee sucks the blossom

Big bee gets the honey

I met Kerri Griffin when she was a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young lawyer just starting out at my old law firm.

The partners who Kerri worked for – including me – had a high opinion of her work.  She was even-tempered and easy to get along with, and her somewhat conventional exterior hid a very quirky sense of humor. 

Kerri eventually moved on to another law firm, and then decided she had better things to do with her life than be a lawyer.  

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After having a baby about ten years ago, Kerri started a blog called “Naptime Huddle,” which combined NFL-related posts with recipes.  

I contributed several guest posts to “Naptime Huddle” back in the day and Kerri returned the favor by writing guest posts for 2 or 3 lines.  (You click here to read the “Naptime Huddle” post featuring my killer gazpacho recipe.  And you can click here to read Kerri’s first 2 or 3 lines contribution.)

A few years ago, Kerri and her husband John packed up their son, daughter, and dog and moved to Culpeper, VA – which is about 70 miles southwest of downtown Washington, DC.  Since moving, they added a second dog to their family – not to mention some 100,000 bees.

An Apis mellifera (or western honey bee)

I learned from Facebook that Kerri became a beekeeper last year.  That’s a hobby I’ve certainly never considered pursuing, so I had to ask Kerri what was behind her decision.

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2 or 3 lines: Kerri, what made you decide to be a beekeeper?

Kerri: When John and I were planning our move out here, he kept bringing up the possibility of getting some kind of livestock – maybe chickens or goats . . . he seemed particularly interested in goats.  Knowing I’d be the one doing most of the husbandry – especially the less glamorous work – I kept shooting down his suggestions.  Then bees occurred to me – I already knew that they were really cool, and I thought it would be a different way to keep busy.  Plus bees don’t take up much space, and they’re not messy.  So I took a one-day introductory beekeeping class at a local bee supply store, and that hooked me.  

2 or 3 lines:  So bees are easier than goats?

Kerri: I have no idea – we never got any goats – but I will admit that I definitely underestimated the expense and the amount of labor  required to keep bees.

2 or 3 lines:  Have you harvested any honey yet?

Kerri:  Generally speaking, you don’t harvest honey your first year.  Your hives just can’t build up sufficient numbers to make enough honey that there is any extra for you to keep.  Once you get past the “nectar flow” – that’s the time when nectar sources are blooming in the spring and early summer – your focus in late summer and through the fall is preparing the hives for winter.  With the climate around here, each hive needs about 60 pounds of honey to get through winter and into early spring, when things start to bloom again.

2 or 3 lines: Once a hive is built up, how do you actually harvest the extra honey?

Kerri:  The bees live in two boxes.  Picture a two-drawer file cabinet – the frames that they build honeycomb on are like hanging files.  If the bees are able to fill up all of the frames in those two boxes during the buildup of the hive in spring, then you can add a honey “super,” which is a box that is about half the depth of the other boxes.  Any honey that is stored in that is what you can keep.  If you’re lucky, you might harvest two or more of these boxes from one hive in one season.

2 or 3 lines: Is it complicated to harvest honey?

Kerri: That depends on how you want your honey.  If you’re looking to harvest comb honey, you simply carve out a slice of honeycomb and put it in a jar.  But most people want plain honey.  Extracting honey from the comb is not exactly simple.  Once the bees have created honey, they cap the cells of honeycomb with wax.  So the first thing you have to do is to remove these cappings.  There are many tools you can use, from a simple scraping fork to heated electric knives.  Then you place the honeycomb into a honey extractor, which spins the honey out of the comb using centrifugal force.  The simplest (and cheapest) extractors only hold three or four frames of honeycomb and are manually cranked.  Top-of-the-line extractors can hold more frames and have powerful motors to spin them.  When the combs are drained, the honey goes into a bucket, which has a strainer on top. The bucket has a spigot at the bottom, so the honey goes from there into bottles or jars.

Kerri and her kids visit her bees

2 or 3 lines: So how did things go for you in your first season?

Kerri: One of my hives filled about half of a super by the end of summer, but I kept that honey to make sure I had enough feed the bees early this spring.  I really have no idea how much honey I might end up with this year.  My first batch will go to friends and family, but I would very much like to sell honey at a farmer’s market at some point.  We also have some prolific blueberry bushes, so maybe I’ll sell some berries as well.

2 and 3 lines: When you and I worked together, we spent a lot of our time evaluating health claims for foods, drugs, and dietary supplements that our clients wanted to make in their advertising.  There are a lot of health claims for honey and especially royal jelly, which is the honeybee secretion that is fed to queens.  Do you buy all those claims?

Kerri: The basic nutritional value of honey is not much in dispute – it has been consumed for thousands of years as a sweetener, and a lot of people believe it has health benefits.  I’m unclear about what specific health benefits have been substantiated by research, but I know the federal government has challenged advertising claims for royal jelly in particular.  Honey definitely has one unique property: since bacteria can’t survive in honey, it never spoils.  You may have had old honey crystallize, but it’s safe to eat – just heat it up a little to get rid of the crystals. 

2 or 3 lines: I think I’d have a hard time getting over my fear of being stung.  How afraid were you when you were getting started?  Are you completely comfortable with your bees now?

Kerri: I absolutely had fear at the beginning.  Before my first several interactions with them – picking up the packages of bees and installing them in the hive, and my first few inspections – I had butterflies and not just a little anxiety.  But eventually I was able to relax.  You have to be quite focused on the task at hand as you’re working with them – you have to push other thoughts aside.  Holding a frame covered with over a thousand bees puts you a little bit in awe of yourself, and you get a little more confidence after every trip to the apiary.  Stings are no fun – and I’ve been stung a few times – but it’s kind of like a rookie quarterback getting hit hard at the start of an NFL game.  Once you know what to expect, you don’t dread it as much.

2 or 3 lines:  But NFL quarterbacks wear helmets and lots of padding.  What kind of protective gear do you wear when working with your bees?

Kerri:  There are a variety of protective items you can wear, depending on your level of confidence: a hat with a veil, a heavy jacket and pants, thick gloves – some people don’t wear gloves, or just go with thin nitrile gloves.  There’s even a one-piece garment that has everything except the gloves – essentially long-sleeved coveralls with a netted head covering attached.  In the high heat of summer, you can easily get heatstroke if you aren’t well hydrated, so I’ve heard that people who like those coveralls wear only their underwear or a bathing suit under them.  Personally I wear a wide-brimmed hat with veil attached, a pullover jacket made of fairly thin material, a long-sleeved shirt under the jacket – because I have been stung through my jacket – my thickest pair of jeans (which I now only wear for this purpose), and rain boots that I can tuck my jeans into.

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The next 2 or 3 lines will feature an essay Kerri wrote about queen bees.  I guarantee you that it’s going to make you want to know even more about honeybees.

My thanks to her for all the time she put into writing that essay – which will include some fascinating photos and videos of honeybees in action – not to mention the time she spent answering all my questions today.

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Bob Wills, who formed the Texas Playboys in 1934, essentially invented the “Western swing” music genre.  He’s one of the very few people to have been inducted into both the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Bob Wills

To paraphrase Sir Walter Scott, “Breathes there the man (or woman) with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said ‘Take Me Back to Tulsa’ is SILLY BAZILLY”?

Click here to listen to “Take Me Back to Tulsa,” which was a big hit for the Texas Playboys in 1941.

Click here to buy the song from Amazon.