From A to Bee (28 page)

  Evening arrived and Sebastian was tucked up nicely in bed. Tentatively I made my way up to the allotment, reworking the plan in my head. I had made the feed in advance to add on at the end so I knew this was all OK but I was still worried about everything else.

  I got to the hive and sure enough there was no activity outside so most must have been inside, which was a good sign. I laid out all the equipment I needed on the ground within easy reach and went to light the smoker. It lit first time. I smoked the entrance and the three or four bees poking their heads out dashed inside; I quickly popped in the bung and felt quite satisfied that part one of the plan had come off. I could now move the nucleus and prepare the hive for them without bees flying all over the place and wondering what was happening with their home; and more importantly, I didn't have to rush.

  I got all the frames in place (the nucleus only comes with five frames and so I had to make sure I had more in the hive to fill it up and give them room to expand) and then started on the bees. It is funny; this was only the third time I was dealing with bees on my own and I felt so much more relaxed about it now. In fact that calmness that beekeepers talk about was starting to take effect. However, I had to be on top of my game here and so I continued.

  After giving the bees a puff through the gauze hole in the lid and then struggling for a bit with the sticky tape holding it all together, the lid came off. They were so calm compared to what I was used to with the other hive. It was lovely, and so I started to slowly remove the first frame. It was only at that point that I realised I had done something incredibly stupid – I had left the hive tool in the shed! I am not sure how as I felt so organised, everything was laid out similar to the way that you lay your clothes out on the bed before you go on holiday. This was comparable to forgetting your pants. I had left myself open to the elements but I just had to get on with it.

  Fortunately, the frames came out relatively easily. Slowly I inspected each frame and placed them one by one into the hive. It was all rather nice but I was desperate to find the queen. Nothing on the first four frames and yet I knew this queen was marked with a small dab of paint on her thorax to make her easier to spot; a common thing to do amongst beekeepers. I was beginning to think that it was my eyesight that was the problem.

  However, on the final frame there she was. It was like a eureka moment; I felt so chuffed as this was the first time I had ever found my own queen and quite unexpectedly I shouted out 'Hey there, Queenie!' I was so pleased and yet also relieved as I knew that I did have the ability to spot the queen. My God, I thought, she is massive.

  Suffice to say, I got them all into the hive safely and put all the bits back in the right places. My plan came together and I felt rather pleased with myself. I had worked out how to deal with a hive that no one locally has used and secondly I had found the queen.

  On this lovely Saturday evening, therefore, I am feeling on top of the world – till tomorrow, and my attempt to change the floors on the other hive; that will take planning to a whole new level.

There is something quite satisfying about going up to a hive after putting a new set of bees inside and seeing them flying around quite happily. It is nice knowing that I must have done something right for them as they seem to be carrying out their orientation flights to familiarise themselves with local landmarks, and I have seen a couple of them flying into the hive with pollen attached to their legs.

  There is one slight concern, however; I am not sure if the Beehaus is 'bee-tight'. They seem to be sneaking in somewhere other than the entrance as there is a lot of activity at one of the gaps between the supers. I have closed up the gap to the best of my abilities and will see if it makes a difference. I must check this later.

  The main job today was to finally change the floors of the traditional hive, having put it off for weeks. I had concocted a plan over a rather strong coffee this morning and had now got everything ready. Equipment was lined up beside the hive like I was preparing for major surgery. Smoker lit, hive tool ready and screwdriver in hand ready to unscrew and detach the old floor.

  I unscrewed the metal joints holding the floor and brood box together and then smoked the entrance. Slowly I lifted the complete hive off the stand and placed it on the floor beside me. A few of the bees were flying around but it was OK so far and they didn't seem too rattled.

  I placed the open-mesh floor on the hive stand and started to tease apart the hive and closed floor beside me. This was all in readiness to lift the hive back onto the stand. This was the bit I was afraid of because essentially I was taking the floor away from their home. Imagine the human equivalent of this and seeing the floor of your house disappear while some grubby gloved fingers gripped the walls to lift the whole thing up in the air. It would be a little unnerving but here I was doing it to probably 20,000 bees.

  I had only lifted the hive a couple of inches off the old floor when it happened. My first sting followed quickly by my second, third and fourth.

  Initially I thought I had been stung by the nettles around the hive. There were short stabs of pain around my ankle. As I continued to manoeuvre the hive it dawned on me what was happening. I put the hive down on the floor a lot more carefully than I thought I would have done considering this new development. However, the thought of dropping a complete hive and annoying the whole colony was simply not an option.

  I bent down and tried to flick the bees off from around my sock area but realised very quickly that using a hive tool in a swinging action close to the major arteries of my foot wasn't the best plan. Therefore I resorted to the fingers and quickly dispersed the stinging insects. Reviewing the situation now I had been pretty stupid. Not only had I put the entrance of the hive right by my ankles but in order to prevent bees from crawling up my trouser leg I had done the other fashionable thing of tucking my trousers into my socks. Not only did I look really cool but I left an open invitation for them to attack my ankles. Silly, isn't it – by trying to stop bees crawling up my leg I had left my ankle exposed. Maybe next year I need to either buy a full suit or purchase some welly boots.

  All in all it was over very quickly and I have to say I was quite glad that I have now been stung, especially as I wasn't expecting it. I figured my hand or fingers would get stung first. At least I know what the feeling is like and I can be doubly pleased that I didn't get stung in the eye. The stings hurt far less than I had expected and there doesn't seem to be any swelling so that must be a good thing.

  Anyway, all done and the hive was now on its correct floor but despite being stung I now needed to carry out the inspection on the Beehaus.

  Fresh from the confidence I had gained in spotting the marked queen yesterday in the nucleus, I found the unmarked queen today! Even though I had seen them in the practice sessions I am still amazed at how big they are.

  Having done a few inspections now, I have to say with every opening of the hive my nervousness abates ever so slightly and I am feeling a little bit more comfortable around the bees. Being stung earlier has helped as well; as arguably nothing can be much worse than being stung four times, aside from being stung five times I suppose.

  As I was working through the hive I started to realise that I was viewing each frame differently from past inspections. It was almost as if I had a checklist going on in my head. On each frame I started by checking if there were any larvae, which gave me the confidence that I had a queen. I then moved on to whether I could see stores and any signs of disease. Finally I would just check the bees to see if I could see the queen as I scanned the frame left to right and top to bottom. After the third frame I realised I was doing this instinctively and again it made me think how enjoyable the experience actually is. It was, however, the time that I also realised how hot it was inside the bee suit. I may as well have simply wrapped myself up in a dustbin bag and stood in the sun. I was baking and I could feel sweat droplets dripping onto my nose.

  Anyway, the queen was found, the hive floors changed and I left a very happy novice beekeeper. This was especially the case as I put on the honey super as well. I felt that the brood box was sufficiently full to chance my luck. Hopefully this will incentivise them to move upwards, build some frames and pop in some lovely golden honey. Perhaps this will go some way to obtaining the jar of honey I so crave this year.

I am feeling quite old today. Imagine the scene. I had to get the bus into work as my car was getting its tyres changed (after my blowout incident). Once the bus got going I realised that I was on the side that the sun was streaming through. I moved sides and it was at that point I felt old. I actually moved in the interests of a comfortable journey.

  Matters got worse. As the journey continued, the schoolchildren joined me on their way to school – with spots coming out of every inch of skin, hair down to their ankles and ties with the loosest definition of a Windsor or half nelson knot I had ever seen. There I was minding my own business, dressed for work in a smart shirt and well-tied knot and felt I should catch up on some reading. Out popped a copy of
Beecraft
– Britain's best-selling bee magazine. I started reading it and realised that some of the kids had brushed aside their ankle length hair just a little bit so that one beady eye was looking at my reading material. These brief looks turned into stares which were followed by elbowing and a bit of pointing. The receiver of the elbow would then turn, wipe their fringe in a certain direction and then also stare in a way only teenagers can.

  I was innocently reading a magazine with a nice photo of a bumblebee on the front and being stared at by a bunch of teenagers. OK, so it wasn't the latest edition of
Heat
or
GQ
but I thought I was pretty cool. Then it dawned on me. Me and my mates used to be those spotty, long-haired teens but the recipients of our stares were people reading trainspotting magazines. I couldn't help but laugh back then at these anorak-wearing, bespectacled human beings and here I was, the modern-day equivalent. I felt mortified but, as I am sure the trainspotters did, I buried my head in my magazine.

  Once I had returned from work, I went up to the Beehaus to check on the hive to see if it was bee-tight and thankfully it all seemed in good shape. I also went up to give them some more feed but upon opening the hive I discovered they had hardly even taken any – in fact I would go so far as to say they hadn't yet found it despite my efforts of introducing it to them. As a result they weren't drawing out the frames particularly quickly so I dripped a little bit more down the tube to incentivise them. Hopefully they will get started pretty soon.

  It has been 29 degrees Celsius today again, which hasn't made it a particularly comfortable time, especially with my stings having been covered with sweaty socks all day. My ankle became very itchy today for the first time and was a little bit inflamed and swollen.

  On a separate note, I had my first spuds this weekend. I dug up some of the swift earlies which I had planted several months ago. A little bit of mint while cooking followed by 'accidentally' too much butter, salt and pepper and all was delicious. I will also say that, despite the odd few, today was the first harvest of the mangetout and broad beans. I made a lovely salad complete with pepper, potato, rice and coriander, and all was lovely. So satisfying after all the hard work I put in throughout spring. Wonderful.