I hosted a brunch this morning and the table was so pretty! And my crustless quiche with asparagus and ham was tasty, as were the fruit salad and monkey bread.
I found a handy slice of wood from the same tree and drilled holes in it for screws. I didn't want to be hammering nails on the hive and freaking the bees out. This was right at dusk, at about 40 degrees, so there wasn't much risk of them coming out to investigate. Still, I put the lid on fast. You'll just have to imagine the hole under there.
Below you can see the knothole that is the main hive entrance. It's bigger than I realized. 
So I found a piece of bark and quickly nailed it over. There's a space at the bottom where bees can still get in and out, but now they have less area to defend against robber bees, and maybe a little more protection from the weather. I covered the top with plastic and the sheet again.
Here's an interesting tidbit: Most animals don't like to mess with bees much, for obvious reasons, but skunks will go up to a man-made hive, knock on it, then feast on the bees as they come out to investigate. Beekeepers in skunky areas often string an electric fence below the hives to keep the gate-crashers away.
Sophie has no interest in making the bees' acquaintance.
The second was at my best friend's house. I didn't pile my plate so high, though I wanted to. I did save room for dessert.
I think my friend's bathroom scale is off. It told me I weigh 10 pounds more than I thought.
Whoa! Two in a row! But it's a special day and you deserve some fun. 
I couldn't resist pulling out my camera when I saw this. Take a guess at what it is, then click on the picture to see if you're right.
It was dragging an advertising banner that was advertising an advertising banner: "Come fly your ad proposal with me."
I couldn't read the phone number, though.
The Art of Shaving? That's a lot of real estate devoted to what I imagine would be more suited to a mall cart or kiosk. 
I looked around online and found that bee food is pretty simple. It's just sugar water, 2:1. If you're working with a regular hive, there are bottles and trays you use, but I also saw where people put out a saucer of syrup. You want it shallow so the bees don't drown in the stuff. I covered an old cookie sheet with plastic wrap to hold the syrup, and stuck in red and yellow things in an attempt to attract the bees.
They're flying in and out, and hanging around the entrance. 
The one above is different from the regular ones. Is that a drone? It's bigger, and it looks like it has one big eye across the front of its head. Clearly I need to study more.
Well, there's only so much I can do for them. They'll make it or they won't.
It's hell on my back, though.
I can't say I was thrilled by the sandwich; it was a tad greasy for me and heavy on the grainy mustard. I think I'd like it better if the bread were just lightly toasted so I could taste the meat better. The fried potato salad was super-tasty, though.
It's an unusual presentation, with all the traditional ingredients encircled by super-succulent, melt-in-your-mouth tuna. The hard-boiled egg is crumbled and scattered on the plate around it.
There was a lot of tuna there. I think I ate the lion's share of it.
I had to forgo a couple of things I'd planned for the morning, including a meetup with Jen and Manisha, dammit. But I needed to be home to supervise.
Martin and Javier were sympathetic and speedy. They joked a lot, with Martin up in the tree and Javier on the ground, belaying the larger roped pieces and feeding branches into the chipper.
I removed a fence panel and set up a chute of tarps. Commercial mulch is expensive, and I liked the idea of recycling what I could.
As you may recall, the tree had a beehive in it, about 12 feet off the ground. What I did not know was that there was another hive up high. It was in the branch you see falling here, I think.
The branch split when it hit the ground. Those poor bees.
I was in danger of falling logs myself, so I didn't get a better shot than this blurry one of the actual bees.
It was a small hive, but they'd laid in a supply of honey. I tasted little bit of it.
The choice of day proved fortuitous. Yesterday it was 70 degrees, and the bees would've been active and angry. Today it was 35, and the poor things succumbed quickly to the cold. They crawled and flew in slow motion, then curled up and died. 
I feared that the broken hive was the one I knew about, tunneled through the trunk to the high branch, but Martin found that hive farther down. He cut below it and dropped the section.
I threw a sheet over it to keep the bees contained as much as possible. The section was too big to roll, but Martin trimmed off a solid chunk on one side.
The guys who showed up to take the bigger wood helped roll the whole thing into my yard. It took all their strength, and they were probably cursing me a little. But they were good-natured about it.
They didn't get the section into the raised bed as I'd hoped, but close enough. I should mention here that the City Council on Monday night voted to allow backyard beekeeping! While this probably isn't what they had in mind, I made sure the hive met the position requirements: as far from the neighbors as possible, at least five feet off the lot line, and behind a six-foot barrier (my fence).
I covered the trunk with an old wool rug and plastic, leaving a small escape hole above the hive entrance. The entrance was packed with bees. I could hear them buzzing loudly in the confined space, and there was warmth rising from the hole. 
They filled it to capacity.
This is Martin, taking a well-deserved rest. Javier is behind him.
And this is all that remains of my once-mighty maple.
Political correctness doesn't extend to firefighting jargon, I guess! I amused myself with the thought of sneaking back in the dead of night to cross out "Siamese" and add "conjoined."
Well, you know I heart Ikea! The most expensive thing here was the mortar and pestle, at $10. The frother was $2. It will probably break quickly. That's a meat thermometer in back, and a spice grinder in front of it.
I also got a citrus zester, pictured at right. It was lurking in the depths of my suitcase and missed out on the home photo shoot. A microplane works fine for teeny shreds of zest, but this one makes longer ribbons.
I'm back! Had just enough time to run home, greet the poodle and dash to work. Long day. And I think I lost a necklace en route, dammit. So much for jewelry luck.
I'm flying away home this morning. I hope my arrival is as smooth as this one.
Cam Huong gets mixed reviews on Yelp, but we were quite pleased with the place. It's a tiny, narrow space, with a display of deep-fried goodness in the front window, a long counter packed with extra snackage, and a handful of booths in the back. 
The guy behind the counter (whose name I should have asked!) told us they've been there for 23 years. His grandmother is/was friends with the original owner of the Ba Le franchise. His grandma stuck with restaurants (they have four), while her friend went into making wholesale ingredients (including headcheese!) and franchising. Some of Cam Huong's ingredients come from Ba Le wholesale, but they also have their own bakery up the street, so the rolls are fresh. 
We couldn't wait to take a bite of our large sandwiches! They are about 8 inches long compared with the usual 6. The Sergeant got the curried tofu sandwich:
While I opted for the barbecued pork:
The sandwiches are heavy on the vegetables, which I like. If you prefer meatier, you can ask to double up on it. I got mine without jalapeños, but I should have taken them anyway and given them to the Sergeant. I do like the little bit of bite they add for having been in the sandwich briefly.
Parking in the neighborhood can be tricky, but it's worthwhile to find a spot and do a little exploring in the Chinatown shops while you're there. Or you can have a friend circle the block while you get some banh mi to go.
