An Apidea.

Continuing yesterday’s saga, the queen cell stayed close to my heart until bedtime; I wasn’t quite sure what to do for the best so I put a tumbler on the warm shelf behind the Rayburn with a damp tissue in the bottom to keep the air moist, placed the cage with cell upright on top of the tissue and a cover over the top. Whether all of this was necessary, adequate, or ideal, I have no idea; but I didn’t want it on its side with me lying on top of it through the night. In the morning, I hung it back round my neck, which I considered to be the safest place.
From here on, I was on comparatively, though not necessarily absolutely, safe ground.
 
Then it was out to the apiary for a cupful of young bees which were put into the Apidea, which is a tiny hive (its longest dimension being ten inches) along with a block of icing for food. And there it is in the Blip taken in the garden; making a lot of noise and, because the bees can’t get out, water has to be sprayed in periodically through the red grill to keep them cool. In the evening, I put the queen cell in through a specially provided hole under the roof and gave a sigh of relief; she was no longer my responsibility. First thing the following morning, the front block (Like an “H” on its side) was lifted to open the tiny front door and one or two of the inmates wandered out to have a look round – then wandered back in and, within a few minutes, the noise settled to the nice quiet hum of contented bees.
 
And there they stay; the queen should emerge from her cell on Wednesday, take her mating flight(s) sometime next week, start laying the following week, and a week later I can introduce her to a new colony. Of course, there is a lot that can go wrong. In fact, it could well have already happened. However, the sound of happy bees is reassuring.