You never can tell with bees.
We all remember Winnie the Pooh, a bear of very little brain, trying to outsmart bees in a half-baked quest to steal their honey by floating up to a tree branch with a balloon.
“Wouldn’t they notice you underneath the balloon?” Christopher Robin asked. “They might or they might not,” Pooh answered. “You never can tell with bees.”
Oh, they will. Those mean, nasty, hurtful little demons. You bet they’ll notice you and come after you with every trace of their vengeful wickedness.
If you can’t tell, I hate bees.
Last summer we called in a bee man after neighbors complained that there were yellow jackets coming from our yard. The bee man came and, of course, there was nothing flying around. He asked me to describe them—do they look like yellow jackets, hornets, wasps, bumble bees, what? What do I know, they look like bees! I don’t know one from another, I just hate ’em. They sting. The sting hurts, even kills. I can’t enjoy time on our back deck because it’s them or me, and they won’t leave.
Anyway, one or two flew by and I pointed them out to the bee man, who said, “Those are honey bees, I can’t kill honey bees.” Then the neighbor walked over. I reported, it’s honey bees. She said, “Oh, well, you can’t kill honey bees!”
Well why in the world not? Yeah, yeah, balance of nature, blah, blah. Stupid nature.
I can probably live without honey. I can live without flowers if it means I can complete a crossword puzzle on a summer afternoon without being harassed by evil apiarian attackers. And that infuriating buzz. Heck, as much as I love Jerry Seinfeld, I didn’t even see Bee Movie.
Sorry to drone on so, but get this. I’ve just discovered that a colony of pollinating pests has built a hive in the rocker on our front porch. And they were none too happy when I went out to sweep and unknowingly moved their cushy condo.
Well, I plan to cut them off at their little bees’ knees if it’s the last thing I do.
Anyone have a hazmat suit?
Word Nymph 
I suggest you remove any plants, bushes, or trees that flower or fruit from anywhere near your house. Evergreens reproduce asexually, and if you live in the tropics, bananas and pineapples are safe, too!
As far as removing the hive from the rocker without killing the bees, you would probably need a professional to smoke them out.
I know someone with a swimming pool that is surrounded by bees, no surprise since the homeowner planted many beautiful wildflowers adjacent to said pool!
As for the preachy, balance of nature, cycle of life part, which won’t help assuage the pain of a sting, the following quote has been attributed to Einstein
but is probably apocryphal: “If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe then man would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more man.” This is an exaggeration, of course, but without honeybees, fruit, cotton, grazing animals, etc., would be endangered. Alternatives, such as hand-pollination, are very labor intensive.
Boo, bees!
It’s not nice to fool with MOTHER NATURE
Youngest daughter Shannon calls to report that bees are infesting her house, and she has called Orkin to remove them. I suggested a can of WD-40 which melts the wings of any flying insect as well as melt any found beehive.
We have European Hornets the size of my thumb nesting in the parking lot here at my apartment complex. Honeybees I could handle, but these not so much.
Had to comment…I have a “pet” bumble bee named Bob. Bob is awesome! Bob chases away the wasps. Swear – cross my heart. I lay on my one remaining cushioned lawn chair (Pebbles ate the rest of the cushions-another story) soaking up sun and the wonderful words of whatever I am reading and Bob stands sentry. Hovering around, sometimes looking me right in the eye, until a wasp comes along. Then he swoops, dives, attacks. Once the foe is chased away he comes back to hover. Now one friend, gave me sage advice. “Don’t get too attached, I don’t think the life span of a bee is too long”. May be true, but “Bob” has been around for three summers. Perhaps there is an army of “Bob’s”. Don’t know, don’t care. Generally disliked all bees as well, until “Bob”. Now I completely have no fear of Bumble Bees.
Do you think bob has a brother? I’d pay him. Someone just has to teach me how to tell the difference between him and the enemy. And I don’t support racial profiling.