While Bees Sleep

Did you know that bees actually do sleep? I found a great blog entry with some links to journal articles here. Apparently if sleep-deprived, they are less effective communicators. Maybe I have more in common with the bees than I realized.

So here I am, a couple months later, still a blogging slacker. It's not that nothing has been happening, although the season of bee updates is basically over until spring. Unfortunately fourth quarter in my line of work (my real job, that is) is quite a crazy time. Long days sap most of my energy and rarely do I feel like spending any more time in front of the computer. I'm fairly sure most of my generation will have permanent damage to our eyes from staring at computer monitors for so long.

What has been happening, you ask? Well...

The chicken coop and run are finished.

The chickens are getting bigger and exploring the backyard.

Buttercup is growing into her pouf. 

Oh, and I have a rooster, and he is crowing.

And yes, I realize none of those things are bee related. Weather has been pretty crazy and I've seen my bees out and flying during the last weeks of November. It doesn't seem normal, but there isn't much to compare to since this is my first fall/winter of beekeeping. I spent the month of October thinking about how I needed to feed more, but never actually having time to refill the feeder more than once. I also put about 3/4 cup of mini marshmallows in the hive that the bees can eat over the winter. 

At this point, I think opening the hive would do much more harm than good, so I just have to keep my fingers crossed that they make it while preparing myself that they may not. I managed to make it through my first season without stings, though Rosie dog was not so lucky. She took it upon her dopey self to jump the chicken wire fence I set up around the coop and was promptly stung on two different occasions. I only felt a little bad about it. 

As you can see from the pictures, most of the backyard time for the past few months has been spent on chicken-related pursuits. Last weekend he finally finished the permanent outdoor enclosure. It looks so amazing. It's more awesome than I could have ever imagined. I'm so grateful to my dad for helping me with it. Okay..he did most of the work. The chickens are so very funny and a source of happiness for me every day.  I'm having a hard time thinking of how exactly to thank my dad. How do you thank someone for enabling you to have something that gives such pure and true joy? I'm not sure there's a way. 

I'm still waiting on my first egg. I know it's coming at any moment, just as I knew my rooster would be crowing soon. Hearing his first crow was so exciting, but reality slowly sunk in as he continued to crow and crow and crow and crow... At the moment it's not a problem since it's cold and everyone has their windows shut. When the spring comes, though, I'm not so sure. So I'm faced with a dilemma. Do I keep him until then or find him a home now? I haven't made up my mind yet. I actually enjoy hearing him crow and find it pleasant. At 5 a.m. on a weekend, though? ... maybe not. 

And I know this is a bee/backyard farming blog, but I suppose it's worth mentioning that I met someone who is not only wonderful but also shares my interest in bees. He has seven hives of his own. We can be a couple of bee nerds together without having to hide our true selves. It is rather amazing to meet someone who shares many of the same interests in agriculture and animals as I do. There are areas where his views differ from mine, but it just makes for great conversations. We have much to learn from each other. I hope he'll be around for many seasons to come. 

The bees are sleeping. They probably dream about flowers and sunlight and nectar. Sounds like a nice dream to me. And I am here with expectations,questions, and dreams of my own, heading into winter and staring down my 30th birthday. Things have settled into a good place, finally. Winter cold is coming, but the chickens have a heat lamp, the bees are in their cluster, and my heart is warm, warm, warm.

Life is the flower for which love is the honey - Victor Hugo

Still Here

I'm back after an unintentional hiatus. I think about blogging a lot, but life is just so full...full of things I have to do, or should do, or moments where I am just frozen and overwhelmed and then do nothing at all.

But I'm still here, and so are the bees. The chickens are here, too, and now taking up more of my time and making me feel neglectful of my lovely little bees that go about their life's work whether I'm paying attention or not. They don't anticipate my visits, or notice my absence. The bees go on living and dying.

I haven't been totally absent, though. I've been checking in on my friends to make sure all is well. My concern grew last month after their failure to start building more new comb, so after seeking advice from a trusted online group dedicated to natural beekeeping in top bar hives, I started feeding back the honey I had harvested. The bees took it happily and I did start to see a bit of progress, more honey storage, and more activity in general. I think it was the boost they needed. Unfortunately, though, it also brought something else to light: the very first pest I've seen in my hive. When I went in to refill the feeder and lifted it off the base, I saw a few small black beetles scatter. A quick online search confirmed my suspicions. It was the small hive beetle. These beetles made there way here from Africa during the 90's, and they love honey. They live inside hives where their larvae tunnel through honeycombs and can cause honey to ferment in hives with heavy infestation.

The bees have their ways of controlling things, though. I read that bees will actually corral the beetles into "jails" built of comb on the sides of the hive. The beetles, not to be outdone, have figured out a way to trick nurse bees into feeding them. In the end, they are only a serious problem for weak hives. Is my hive weak? Possibly. I took my worries to the online group again, and a total stranger in Texas sent me some of the traps she uses in her hives. It was such a kind gesture from a total stranger. I have one of the traps in the hive now, hopefully killing those stupid beetles so my bees can worry about getting things ready for the coming winter instead of trying to corral beetles.

It's time for me to start seriously feeding so they can build up enough stores to make it through winter. I've heard lots of different stats about probability of a hive making it through winter. At the moment I'm concerned that my hive does not have nearly enough honey stored up to last, so I'm going to start feeding in a major way to hopefully help make up for that. I also read that you can leave a sheet with granulated sugar in the hive over winter or make "bee candy" as emergency food. I know there is chance that they won't make it. I suppose I'm mentally preparing myself if that happens, but I can't say I won't be pretty sad if it does.

Of course I could start over with a new package or a swarm next spring, but how wonderful would it be to see my hive continue to grow from what I started from a small box this past April? We shall see. At the moment they've only built on two new bars (as of last inspection). They finally started building on the new comb guides and thankfully things seem nice and straight.

The bees are noticeably more defensive and irritable, which is normal for this time of year, but doesn't help me. The less I suit up and open the hive, the harder it gets for me to go back in there. Earlier in summer I had gotten to a point where I was not nervous at all while working with them, but a couple of weeks ago I had a bee chase me all the way back to the house and it unnerved me a bit. Knowing that they're going to be more protective now of their precious stores doesn't do much to boost my courage, but I try to focus and trust the jacket to save me. I'm not sure if they could sting through my jeans. Hopefully that's not something I have to find out.

In other news, the chicken coop is now complete, and my little peeps are officially moved in. They are 7 weeks old now and not little at all any more. There are a couple that are very wary of me, but one is quite friendly and will sit on my shoulder. My dad and I still have to finish the permanent outside run and add nest boxes, but for now I've set up a temporary area where they can come outside. They love to come out and scratch on the ground looking for bugs. I let them out last weekend as I was painting and could barely bring myself to close them back in again because they looked so happy. A corner of the pen was sunny, and they had all flopped down to sunbathe, legs and wings outstretched in all directions. They are endlessly amusing. I can't wait until they're bigger and I can let them out in the yard on weekends when I'm home.

Buttercup

Fall is most definitely here, and we are all making some sort of preparations. Take your honey back, my dear bees. Take these golden liquid memories of summer to sustain you through the cold winter days.

Life goes on in the backyard.


    Then, when the late year wastes,
    When night falls early and the noon is dulled
    And the last warm days are over,
    Unlock the store and to your table bring
    Essence of every blossom of the spring.
    And if, when wind has never ceased to blow
    All night, you wake to roofs and trees becalmed
    In level wastes of snow,
    Bring out the Lime-tree-honey, the embalmed
    Soul of a lost July, or Heather-spiced
    Brown-gleaming comb wherein sleeps crystallised
    All the hot perfume of the heathery slope.
    And, tasting and remembering, live in hope.
-From "Honey Harvest" by Martin Armstrong

Navigate

The year the bees came
Was a warm spring
Hot nights when it was easy
To transform

The year the bees came
Was the summer my tears boiled
I might have flown on their wings
Had it not been for this weight
of sadness
They navigate the horizon
And I wander
Lost

-SEH 7/12

Episodes 11 & 12: The One with the Wardrobe Malfunction

...And also "The Backyard: It's not just for bees anymore."

Well, yes, it's been a while. Even though I haven't been blogging, I have been checking in on the bees. After my initial inspection post cross-comb correction, I didn't really see much in the way of new comb, but I chalked that up to the fact that the bees were busy rebuilding the other areas in the hive that had been torn up and rearranged.

A couple weeks later, I went back to take a peek and was somewhat surprised to find that they still hadn't built new comb. The brood pattern was looking really good, though, so I wasn't too worried. I think the nectar flow is slowing down now, and I still have yet to feed back any honey that was harvested earlier this summer. I thought I would give it some more time. So when I opened up the hive again today, I was concerned when once again, there was almost nothing in the way of new comb. 

One of the bars where comb was cut off. We stuck a small piece on which is what you see protruding. This has not changed in over 2 weeks.  

"Oh, look at this nice comb guide. Let's not build anything on it."

So, what are they doing? They are raising lots of brood. I have seen tons of bees coming in with pollen, which is another indicator that they are in brood-rearing mode. Something else I noticed was the lack of drone comb and drones in general. I've seen absolutely zero drones the last two times I checked the hive, and no drone comb at all. When I first started, there was always some drone comb. I'm wondering now if that was because I had a laying worker instead of a queen bee. Anyhow, it seems they've kicked the boys out for the time being. I got a pretty cool shot today of uncapped brood in various stages of development. 

Neato

The bees were definitely storing some honey above the brood nest, which is a good sign. And guess what else??? I saw the queen again. And not only did I see her, but I got a picture! I know you're probably not as excited as me, but here she is in all her royal majesty:

She's right in the middle, with a larger body and bit more reddish-gold in color

As I went about working the hive and pulling out each bar to check, I felt something strange. It's still hot, but it seemed like I was getting more of a breeze than usual. I looked down only to find that the zipper on my bee jacket was broken, and it was unzipped halfway up from the bottom, not giving me much in the way of protection. And as luck would have it, under the jacket I was wearing the color they say you should never wear when working with bees: black. So what did I do? I stopped to take a picture for you, of course, and then I kept on going. I thought about stepping a way for a minute to try and fix it, but I would have had to take off the veil, and the bees were being fairly cooperative. 

Walter T Kelly, this is a FAIL!

I'm a bit concerned about this happening again, and also rather disappointed considering that I bought this jacket in April. Luckily things ended up fine. 

When I started this bee adventure, I never imagined that I would want more hives so soon, but I do. Next year I'm sure I'll add at least one. But this year I have another exciting new addition: chickens! I'm not sure when the chicken idea started. I've loved animals since I was a kid, and the dream of living on a farm was always part of my horse obsession. When I started researching backyard bees, I also came across a lot of information about backyard farming, homesteading, and urban chickens. It sparked my interest and I began to do more research. In early July I went to a workshop in Indiana about keeping backyard chickens. The woman who gave the workshop brought four of her own hens along. One of them laid an egg during class, and afterwards we even got to hold them. After that day I knew that I definitely wanted chickens. They are really fascinating creatures with so much personality, and I loved the idea of getting fresh eggs from my backyard. 

I am lucky not only to have a supportive family, but also a family full of skilled and handy people. My dad drew up the plans for a coop, and the two of us along with my grandpa have been working on it for the past two weekends. It's going to be a nice sized coop with an attached enclosed run for the chickens. At the end of this I will not only have this awesome place for my chickens to live, but also some new knowledge and skills. Hopefully it will bring me one step closer to being able to build things myself. It's so awesome. I also really appreciate being able to spend that time with my dad and grandpa. It will make me happy when I see it everyday and know that we built it together.

The beginnings of the coop on the left, and my beehive on the right. 

Last week I got my chicks and they are incredibly cute. I could watch them for hours. I took a video, but I must warn you that my video skills are basically nonexistent. You might still want to watch though, just to hear their super cute happy peeping. And yes, that is an egg they're eating. Supposedly it's good for them. Rosie has a barking cameo about halfway through. 

Right after I took this video, a bee flew into the garage. I think it was on a kamikaze mission. I do feel slightly neglectful of my other creatures now that I have these cute little chicks, but I'm sure things will calm down and I will find a routine that allows plenty of time for all of them. 

Lots of excitement going on around here. I love it. After that chicken workshop, we walked across the street to see an all organic, self-sustaining farm that was also home to three flocks of chickens. Walking through the fields with rows of vegetables, pastures full of cows, and into barns full of chickens, I thought my heart would explode with happiness. It reminded me of the feeling I get when I walk into a barn with horses, or driving through the mountains in Oregon. There is just something there that kindles the flame of happiness in me. Something about those places feels like "home." And right now I can't have a horse or a barn, or relocate the Cascades to Ohio, so I'm building this dream in my backyard with bees, chickens, a compost tumbler, and next year, a garden full of fruits and vegetables. 

I think someday I'll probably have that farm I dream about, but at least today I can have a piece of it in my suburban (well, practically urban) backyard. Knowing that I have all this life around me is pretty amazing. Knowing that with some luck and some hard work I can keep it going and even expand and grow gives me a hope and a happiness that I struggle to describe. I'm looking forward to telling you all about it. 

I've stayed in the front yard all my life.

I want a peek at the back

Where it's rough and untended and hungry weed grows.

A girl gets sick of a rose.

I want to go in the back yard now

-From "A Song in the Front Yard" by Gwendolyn Brooks

The Memories in Honey

Dear Bees,

It seems that in righting your crooked combs, we have have set things right in the hive overall. I'm so glad the mysterious queen finally made an appearance. I wish you could tell me what happened to the original queen, but maybe you just knew she was not your own. One special egg was laid and fed royal jelly so that your very own queen could emerge and reign over the  hive. It makes me smile.

I know that I still have quite a bit of your honey. Don't worry, my little friends. I am going to give it back to you. I just have to figure out the best method of delivery. I've had a little for myself, and I must say, it's very flavorful. A friend of mine who tried it said that the first flavor had a hint of freshly cut hay. 

I wonder if when you eat your honey you can taste each flower and tree that played a part in its making. When you taste it, do you feel the breeze that took each worker on her path to find nectar? Do you see the color of each flower for just one second? Part of the honey making process involves worker bees passing the nectar back and forth so that some of the moisture is lost. When you pass that nectar along, do you pass the memory of your flight, the way the light was hitting the leaves, or the scent of the flower? I guess those jars of honey in my house must hold thousands of tiny memories of flying and of warm winds. 

These are the things I think about when I watch you coming and going. I really wish I knew where that brilliant red pollen comes from. On warm days, I see you on the front of the hive, moving up and down rhythmically. I learned that this is called "washboarding," and it is one of the many bee mysteries that no one has figured out yet. No one knows why you do this dance, but there is speculation that it is a social activity. Maybe you are giving thanks. They say that only healthy, happy bees will do this. I hope it means that you are happy. 

I hope you're still keeping things straight in there, and raising all your babies to make the hive strong. I suppose it's been a bit of a rough patch for us, but we'll get through it. 

Love,
Sarah

"What you hold, may you [always] hold,
What you do, may you [always] do and never abandon.
But with swift pace, light step,
Unswerving feet,
So that even your steps stir up no dust,
May you go forward
Securely, joyfully, and swiftly,
On the path of prudent happiness,
Not believing anything,
Not agreeing with anything
That would dissuade you from this resolution
Or that would place a stumbling block for you on the way...."

- Clare of Assisi"The Second Letter to Agnes of Prague." 

Episode 10: Queenright

Finally! Three months after installing my first package of bees, I found the queen. Today during my hive inspection, I began pulling out the third bar from the front and heard a louder buzz come up from the hive as I lifted it up. That was my first clue. I thought: she must be here. Sure enough, there she was in her royal majesty, looking just like a queen bee should. She was large and golden and just perfect.

When I bought my package in April, I paid a little extra for a marked queen. The queen I received had a white dot on her back. I remember thinking that she didn't really look like what I imagined a queen would (much smaller), but I just went with it. Well, guess what my queen bee does not have? That's right, no white dot to be found. So, either what I got wasn't really a queen (unlikely) or, the queen I got died or was killed. My hive made and raised its very own, homegrown queen bee. This also means she probably mated with local drones, so my hive is not really Russian bees but a sort of local mutt strand. Although it sounds bad, it's actually better for me. Local feral bees have survived the parasites that are taking out so many hives these days, and their resistant genes have been passed to my queen and then to my hive. I'm thrilled.

The corrections from a few weeks ago continue to look good. We cut out a lot of honey comb at that time, but it also seemed that there wasn't much brood to be found. Today, every bar has brood on it, as well as capped honey. I saw no drone comb at all. The bees also don't seem to be building much in the way of new comb. While I'm slightly concerned about their honey stores and wondering if I need to start feeding the harvested honey back, I'm happy to see a much stronger brood pattern. I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that the comb is now all straightened out.

Liz should be coming back in the next couple of weeks, so I look forward to being able to ask her about these things. My gut feeling says that all is as should be in the hive now, but I want to make sure that my bees have what they need to make it through winter.

So I have learned in these past weeks from my bees, that sometimes you have to cut things away in order to set them right. It may be difficult and painful, but the result will be something better and healthier.

Here's to you, my bees, and to me... And most of all, to health.

Episode 9: Progress

Since we finally got a break with the weather today, I decided to go out and check on the bees. I hadn't opened the hives in almost two weeks, since we made all the adjustments to fix the cross comb, and I was a little nervous about what I would find. I was also afraid that the bees would react more strongly to me messing with them after being traumatized. Thankfully that was not the case.

I can't imagine working my bees in the weather we've been having. Getting suited up and working with temperatures in the mid 80's was hard enough. I had a tank top on under my bee jacket, and I was dripping sweat the whole time. I'm not really sure how beekeepers in places like Florida, Texas, and other southern states do it.

Upon opening up the hive, I was super excited to see that there was no new cross combing! All the combs we had straightened out were still straight, and I was able to pull out all the bars and inspect them with no problem at all. There was a lot of brood and some capped honey on all the bars. I looked for the queen briefly, but she still managed to elude me somehow.

I took out a small bar at the entrance that was but there to give the bees space but seemed to be causing more problems (they were building comb on it.) I was pretty proud of myself for operating a phillips head screwdriver while wearing over sized gloves and dripping sweat.

Just about an hour ago, I looked outside and saw a lot of activity at the entrance. I'm not sure if it was a lot of bees coming back to the hive before it rains, or if this is an orientation flight. Orientation is when new worker bees fly in figure eights outside the hive entrance to sort of memorize the way the hive and the horizon look so they can find their way back after they go out foraging for nectar and pollen. Sorry about my lack of video skills, but here is a short clip of what I saw.

Pretty cool, I think. I feel so peaceful watching them, and they don't pay much attention to me. I think they're used to my presence now.

In other backyard news, my dad said he would help me build a chicken coop. I can't tell you how excited I am! It's another step on my way to having my own little backyard farm. I've been doing lots of reading, too, and next weekend I'm going to a workshop about backyard chickens. So hopefully before the end of the summer, this blog will be about birds and bees!

Things have been a bit personally tumultuous for me lately, but my little winged friends are a constant presence. I know I can count on their coming and going each day just like the rising and setting of the sun. It's funny how little flying insects somehow seem to anchor me in a way.



For Joy's Sake, From My Hands
by Ossip Mandelstam
For joy's sake, from my hands,
take some honey and some sun,
as Persephone's bees told us.


Not to be freed, the unmoored boat.
Not to be heard, the fur-booted shadows
Not to be silenced, life's dark terrors.


Now we only have kisses 
dry and bristling like bees,
that die when they leave the hive.


Rustling in clear glades of night,
in the dense forests of Taygetos,
time feeds them; honeysuckle; mint.


For joy's sake, take my strange gift,
This simple thread of dead, dried bees, 
turned honey in the sun.


-

Episode 8: Beautifully Ruthless

Finally, a long overdue recap of my last hive inspection, where I was joined by Liz of TwoHoneys. After lots of fretting and hand wringing, I finally accepted the fact that I needed help and contacted Liz. Sorry again for the lack of pictures, but without Marc, and with my own hands covered in honey, I was not able to get any action shots.

Temperatures had been (and now are again) in the mid to high 90s. In this heat, comb becomes very soft and it is difficult, not to mention risky, to try to work in your hives. Luckily we had a break in the weather early last week, and Liz was able to come over on Tuesday. She arrived at about 4:30 and was exactly as I expected: smiling, kind, and had a truck full of bee-related gear and supplies. I told her about my troubles getting my smoker lighted, and she shared a tip on making starters out of corrugated cardboard. She also suggested getting a torch from Home Depot to make things easier. (All I want for Christmas is...a torch. Oh, and maybe a chicken coop.)

Once we were both suited up, we got down to business with the hive. As expected, the cross comb was pretty bad. Once we had pulled out a couple bars, Liz realized that we were going to be doing some major surgery (chopping off some comb) and that, ready or not, I was getting a honey harvest. The first few bars were all honey, and some of it was cut off so we could push the remaining comb into a straight line parallel with the top bar. We left one comb with uncapped honey inside the hive on the bottom so the bees could take that honey back. The rest that we were cutting off was put into a bucket for harvesting. The comb built on my hair clip fix bar from two weeks ago had fallen off :( Liz told me that she has tried that method before, too, and it didn't work well for her either. To re-attach comb, she just uses large rubber bands around the entire comb and bar.

It became apparent to me once we started working (or, when Liz started working) that one of my problems is my fear or reluctance to hurt bees while moving things around inside the hive. She said that "sometimes, you have to be ruthless" and just get down to work.  So, yes, more bees than I would have like died while were fixing issues that were the result of my inexperience. It made me sad. But she also said that when you keep bees, you're going to kill a few for the greater good. So, in being a bit more "ruthless", I can avoid situations like this in the future.

We carried on further into the hive, pulling the bars apart one by one. We finally reached the brood area and cut out some drone comb which was thrown away. Since the only purpose of drones is to mate with queens, they don't really serve much of a purpose in the hive. Their larger size also makes them targets for one of the worst pests plaguing honey bees: the varroa mite.

I think there were about 3 combs of mostly brood. We looked for the queen while we were working, but didn't spot her. There was worker brood, though, which means that she was there somewhere. This may have been when she slipped out the front entrance. I'll never know for sure. Anyway, apparently my bees are super honey-makers, but my brood nest seems a little weak. Finally, we got all the bars separated and comb straightened out, for the most part. Liz suggested some adjustments and told me that my popsicle stick guides weren't going to cut it, so I need to make a trip to Home Depot this week and get some materials to make better guides. Once it was all said and done, there was honey everywhere. Luckily, the bees can drink it up and put it back into combs for themselves, so all is not lost. Makes me feel a little better about the combs I've broken in the past. Upon closing up the hive, we noticed the unusual activity at the entrance I mentioned in my earlier posts:

 Unprofessional photo taken by yours truly. "WTF" - the Bees

There you can see tons of bees clustered on the front of the hive. I'm still not sure if it was because the queen was outside, or if they were just really upset, but for a while things were pretty dicey and I thought they might hit the road (or the air?) Luckily, they stayed with me and things seem to be back to normal. Unfortunately temps are back up again, but I need to get back in there and see how things are going. I may end up doing it earlier in the morning one of these days. 

Now for the fun part: harvesting the honey. 

 Harvested comb before crushing

One of the cool things about a top bar hive is that you don't need any special equipment to extract the honey. You can either harvest cut comb honey (honey sold to be eaten with the wax, still inside the comb) or use the crush and strain method. To crush and strain, I just got a potato masher and mashed all of this comb and honey into a big, gooey mess. All the instructional videos I watched said you should put down cardboard where you work to help contain the mess. "Oh, I don't need that," I thought "I'm not going to make a mess." Oh, how wrong I was. Somehow, honey goes everywhere, whether or not you intended for it to happen. I'm still finding sticky spots in my kitchen almost a week later. Anyhow, once you have your crushed honey/comb mix, you pour it into a sieve so that the clean honey drains into a pot, leaving the wax and other debris behind.  Something else I scoffed at while watching YouTube tutorials was that there would be bees in the honey. There weren't lots in mine, but I think there were at least two dead and two or three alive that I took out of the pot before straining (a couple of which I later found crawling around my kitchen, covered in honey. Sort of sad.) 

It was so great to be able to meet Liz and learn from her. I hope it is just the beginning of some additional education for me in the world of bees and top bar hives. It was sort of a difficult experience, too, though. I hated seeing so many bees die, especially because of something I could have prevented if I had known better. I know it happens, but to me, each one is still a life. So, I will learn to be a little more ruthless, but I will still try to work as carefully as possible and avoid injuring my bees. They spend their short lives working to make honey and care for each other, as part of one amazing, greater organism. The bees are teaching me so much, and I never want to take a single one of their lives for granted.

Last night, as I was sleeping,

I dreamt - marvelous error! -

that I had a beehive

here inside my heart.

And the golden bees

were making white combs

and sweet honey

from my old failures.

-Last Night by Antonio Machado 

  

They Stayed

Well, three days later and the bees are back inside the hive, for the most part. I still see increased activity on the landing board and front of the hive, but I suppose they are still cleaning up the mess we made on Tuesday. The large clumps of bees that looked like mini-swarms are gone.

When I got home on Wednesday evening, they were all clustered on the stick, so I picked it up and shook them into the hive again. I think the queen may have been there as Liz suggested, because after I did that most of the bees stayed inside.

I set out the wax left over from harvesting the honey so the bees could take back what I was not able to filter out. Next week I'll take it back inside, rinse it, and keep it to be filtered and melted later on. I might make candles or soap with it.

Still working on a post about Liz's visit and correcting the cross comb. For now, I leave you with a photo of the beautiful honey. I ended up harvesting about 4 pounds. I will most likely feed some of it back to the bees once the nectar flow slows down.

 Much more flavorful than store bought honey

Dear Bees,

Thank you for staying with me. I know it's been a rough week, but we'll get through this and all come out better for it. Thank you for helping me meet a wonderful new person who is sharing her knowledge of bees with me, and helping me become more comfortable with asking for help. Also, thanks for not stinging me (yet). 

Love,

Sarah 

Fixing ... to leave?

After much anticipation, yesterday Liz from TwoHoneys arrived at my house to help me fix the cross comb issue in my hive. It was pretty exciting and most definitely a learning experience. It was also rather upsetting for the bees, apparently.


When we finished working on the hive, a whole lot of them were gathered outside around the entrance. Liz left and we were hoping that once they settled down they would go back inside, but about an hour later there were even more bees on the outside of the hive, and some on the ground below the entrance. 


I called Liz and she told me I should try to scoop them with my hands back into the hive.  Either they were getting ready to abscond, or the queen was outside the hive (we did not manage to spot her while working earlier.) 


"This will require some courage" she said. And it did, but it was also neat to feel all those bees in my gloved hands. I scooped as many as I could and placed them back inside the hive, and also leaned a tree branch near the entrance on the ground where some of the bees had settled so they could use it like a ladder if they so chose. 


I went to bed optimistic, but saw this morning that they had all clustered on the tree branch "ladder." Maybe the queen is there. Maybe they will be gone when I get home from work. Only time will tell. 

Shot with my phone - bees on the outside of the hive with the stick

We harvested some honey while fixing the cross comb, which is pretty awesome. I didn't get any pictures really since Marc wasn't able to be there, but I will write another more detailed post about what we actually did soon, along with an update about what happens with my bees. Hopefully they will decide to stay. 


We fixed the cross comb. We harvested honey. Some bees died in the process. So it goes.  

Episodes 6 & 7: A Sticky Situation

I've been debating today about updating the blog versus cleaning. It's been too long since I've done both, but the blog wins tonight. Don't you feel lucky? I have a lot to write about, so I hope you're in a comfortable chair.

Last week I was in Florida, but the week before I set out to start making some corrections to the cross combed mess in my hive. First, I took out all the honey bars and a couple of brood bars and added popsicle sticks with beeswax to work as comb guides on each bar and hopefully "inspire" my little friends to build straight comb. I also did some research on cross comb correction and read that you can use a hair clip to attach some comb to one of your bars straight, so I decided to try that as well.

 Tools of the trade, and bars with new comb guides attached

I opened up the hive and put the honey bars back in behind my follower board, then proceeded to open the front part of the hive where my bees are living. I'm not sure what is "normal" since I have no basis for comparison, but my bees seem to be quite prolific propolis-makers. Propolis is "bee glue" that the bees make to seal up unwanted open spaces. They use a lot of it on the bars and I now have to use the hive tool to pry them out every time I work on my hive. Hopefully it's a sign of a healthy hive, but it also ups my clumsiness factor. I seem to always be clanging or banging something around as I'm prying off the bars. I wonder how long it takes to acquire grace as a beekeeper. 

Anyway, next step was to attach the hair clips to a couple bars:

Once this was done, I needed to pull out one of the bars with messed up comb, cut it off, and then grab it with the clip. I managed to get a bar out, but it was pretty messy. Then it was time to cut out a piece of comb, which wasn't too hard, but there were still quite a few bees on it. I suddenly remembered: I don't have a bee brush. They actually sell brushes for beekeepers to brush the bees off frames of comb. I didn't buy one since I thought it was kind of silly at the time, but I was really wishing for one in that moment. I tried using some blades of grass without success, so I finally just took the piece of comb and gently brushed it on the ground to get the bees off. They were less than thrilled, for sure. By this time it had also been over 10 minutes with the hive open, so things were getting a little more intense. I was fighting that familiar rush of adrenaline and flight response screaming "run for your life" in my head. After a couple deep breaths, I clipped the comb to the bar and put it back in. I also pushed the comb on the bar where I did some 'trimming' back into a more straight position.  Since things were not going quite as smoothly as I 'd hoped, I decided to just go with one hair clip. I re-arranged things, put the lid back on the hive, and said a prayer that the bees would correct themselves while I was on vacation.

Then I spent a week on the beach in the sun, and didn't really think too much about my bees. Sorry bees. I think they must have felt it, because they didn't quite take to my corrections like I hoped. Last Sunday I went back and opened up the hive after about a week and a half. Some of the comb I had attached to the hair clip had fallen off, but they had still built off of it. The new comb was a bit wavy, and there was also a second comb on that bar attached to the bar in front of it. I gave the bees a very disapproving look. If they had middle fingers, they probably would have given them back to me.

Results of the hair clip re-attachment. You can also see propolis (orange) and the incredible mess inside my hive in this shot. 

I cut off the second comb from the hair clip bar and stuck it on to one of the bars where I added the comb guide.

 New comb guide with honeycomb stuck in the middle and bees probably wondering what the hell I was doing. 

I tried pulled out another bar and broke some comb, which dripped honey everywhere. The bees proceeded to freak out. 

Dripping honey + messed up comb that is also attached to the wall of the hive. 

So I now have a somewhat straight comb on the hair clip bar. I read on a beekeeping forum that putting an empty bar in front of a bar with straight comb will help the bees continue to build straight, so I added a bar in front of it, and put the bar with new comb guides and cut comb behind it. I didn't even attempt to pull out any more bars. 

I was feeling quite overwhelmed after this latest check of the hive. I know that I've learned a lot in a short time about beekeeping, butl there is still so much more to absorb and experience. Asking for help does not come easily for me, but I finally mentally conceded defeat to the crooked comb and admitted that it was time to call for reinforcements. After these last two experiences where I've broken lots of comb, spilled honey everywhere and drowned some bees, I knew it was time. I was upsetting myself and the bees now, and things were not improving.

I've mentioned Liz from TwoHoneys in the blog before, so I sent her an e-mail SOS. She agreed to come this weekend or early next week to help me make some major corrections. I'm so excited to get some help from someone who really knows what she is doing. I'll make sure to get lots of pictures and post an update about it once that happens. In the mean time, there is not much I can do. Since the temps are in the 90s, the wax comb is really soft and I would risk doing even more damage if I went in and messed with the bars right now. So, although my 'wishing and hoping' for straight comb has proven highly ineffective in the past, that is all I have until Liz comes. 

One of my girls eating honey off the hive tool

The bees have taught me, or at least forced me to accept, that it is okay to need and ask for help sometimes. I'm sure it's a lesson I'll have to continue to learn, but for now, that is what I'm taking from my little winged friends. Peace, patience, perseverance...and a little honey to sweeten the deal. 

Let the wax raise

green statues, let the honey

drip in infinite tongues, let the ocean be a big comb

and Earth a tunic of flowers, let the World

be a cascade, magnificent hair, unceasing

growth of Beedom.

-Pablo Neruda

Inspired

First Taste
by Sarah Hegner 6/6/12


Upon the first taste of honey
Out of the comb cut from my hive
I realized that
Nature has her ways
Though I ask most politely
That she follow my plan
She whispers to the bees
Survive, survive
And I can only watch as
My straight lines are shifted
Life is built at an angle
Where I expected empty space
Is filled with surprising sweetness
And so I think
Upon the first taste of honey
That I am lucky that
Nature has her ways

Episode 5: A Mess (Amateur Hour at the Hive)

I feel like I deserve a failing blogger award. I have wanted to update more frequently, just as I have wanted to visit my bees more frequently in these recent days, but it is one of many things on a long to-do list.
I went to check on the hive this past Monday, and it had been about two weeks since my last inspection. At the last inspection, there was a definite increase in cross-combing. I was not able to pull out bars 1-3, and I had a  hard time with the rest and damaged some comb in the process.
I didn't get to the hive on Monday until the evening hours, so I was a bit worried that the bees would be unhappy. After my last experience, though, I read on a forum that if you remove a lot of bars at a time, it causes more agitation for the bees. I think that may have been part of my problem. So this time, I pulled out one bar to make a little space, and the bees seemed much happier about it. Earlier in the day, I witnessed more activity at the hive entrance than I have ever seen. There were a lot of bees that seemed to be hovering around the entrance. I wonder (and hope) that this was a group of newly born bees on an orientation flight. By the time I went to open the hive, things had calmed down, but I was a little worried that things were getting cramped and that the bees needed more space. There were still three empty bars before my follower board, so I don't think that was it. I pulled out the first bar with comb and saw some capped drone brood. Every time I see drones or drone brood, I worry a little that my hive is queenless and I have laying workers, but I don't think they would be making so much progress if that was the case. And even if it was, they will make a new queen anyway. (Right? I hope...)
The second to last bar with comb was harder to remove, and in my clumsiness, it slipped off of one side and started falling down into the hive. I had to use my hive tool to get it back out and killed a couple bees in the process. I always feel bad about that. This also made me understand why people work their bees without gloves. As much as I appreciate the security of the gloves (and the fact that I would have been stung in the hand last time had it not been for them), they are way too big for my hands and make it a lot harder for me to feel what I am touching. So far, I've managed to shed my multiple layers of clothing, and I'm down to a pair of jeans (no leggings beneath) and a tank top under my bee jacket and veil. I could probably get stung in the leg if the bees really wanted to do that, but so far, so good.
Back to that bar I almost dropped... I pulled it out and there were two separate combs on it, both at an angle. One was broken off of a bigger comb from the next bar. Nectar was dripping out. Bees were annoyed. I put the bar back in. Crap. When I went to the next bar, I saw that it had the same problem, only exponentially worse. Both pieces of comb were attached to the next bar. At that point I sort of gave it up and decided I have to get those guides on the bars as soon as possible, or pretty soon I'm not going to be able to look at anything because they'll all be stuck together. I pulled out all the bars behind my follower board and set them aside before closing up the hive.(Side note: during this inspection, there were a lot of bees poking around in this area which is technically closed off to them. Not sure what they are doing. There was no comb but there was some propolis on the bars.) Yesterday I bought 75 large popsicle sticks. I'm going to glue them to the boards and then paint them with beeswax. I think I also need to cut off some existing comb and re-attach it to one of the bars. I need to find a hair clip to do this. I think I might make a video when I do, for your amusement, of course. Maybe something like this, except I'll be wearing my oversize gloves:

I promise my video, if I make one, will be better than this. You can't see anything he actually does with the comb on camera, but the part around the 12:30 mark where he's messing with the comb and it  falls off the bar sort of made me feel better about myself. 

In summary... Sighted on this inspection: workers, drones, capped drone brood, pollen stores, nectar stores, honey (?), friendly neighbors watching me work the hive. Not sighted: the queen (hiding, or absent, as usual), worker brood of any kind (probably because I couldn't get more bars out.) Need to do: put guides on remaining bars, cut out one comb and re-attach straight, continue to beg bees to not cross comb the entire hive.
Lesson learned: need to address these things earlier. I thought I had more time, but my bees are efficient and now I have an even bigger mess.

Do I look like I know what I'm doing?

Photo by Marc D.M. Croswell

If Bach Had Been A Beekeeper

Charles Tomlinson

If Bach had been a beekeeper

he would have heard

all those notes

suspended above one another

in the air of his ear

as the differentiated swarm returning

to the exact hive,

topping up the cells

with the honey of C major,

food for the listening generations, 

key to their comfort

and solace of their distress

as they return and return

to those counterpointed levels

of hovering wings where

movement is dance

and the air itself

a scented garden

 

Heart to Heart

Dear Bees,

I know I should not anthropomorpize you... you are insects, not people...but sometimes, I can't help myself. I like to think that maybe, in some way, you have emotions. Because if you have some sort of emotions, that means that maybe you could understand my emotions, and these days, I really wish there was someone or something that could truly relate to me. The truth is that humans, as much as we try, can never truly, fully understand one another. We are limited in that we are very individual creatures. Yes, we have the power of speech, but sometimes I think even that limits us in some ways. We can talk and talk, with word after word after word, and still leave each other totally confused. Sometimes even when we think we understand, in reality, we couldn't be further from knowing the real truth that someone was trying to explain to us. It's mostly just educated guessing between us humans. We are ever limited by the life experiences we have had, the impressions they have left on us, and our ability to imagine the reality of others.

I don't think you can comprehend, my little apis mellifera, just how beautiful your communication is. I recently read about the queen and her court in the hive. Inside the hive, the queen moves around the combs laying eggs. She is surrounded by a court of worker bees that feed and groom her, but not all bees in the court are feeding or grooming. Some of those bees are just touching. They touch the queen, and then they touch other workers to spread the queen's pheromones. Those workers touch other bees, further spreading the pheromones and confirming with every bee in the hive that all is well. There is order. Things are okay. We are safe. Tens of thousands of you are living just to support each other. You exist as individual bees, but you could not exist alone. The only way you can live on is as part of a single, greater organism. 

Sometimes there is nothing I would like more than to be able to communicate like you, my bees. I wish that, through touch, I could let those around me know that everything is okay. I would touch someone I care about, and then, through every subsequent touch with others, I would let them know that all was well. Things are okay. There is order. We are safe. I wish that through touch alone, we could come to truly understand each other, that through touch we could shed the limitations of our own realities and simply just "know" what is real - for you, for me, for all of us.  

There are limits to your beautifully simple communication, though, dear bees. With a little puff of smoke I can temporarily mask pheromones that you use to communicate. And lately I feel like my own life is filled with smoke. Communication is blocked. I try and try, but there is confusion. There is an absence of understanding. My heart breaks with each reminder of how very limited we are in our ability to understand not just each other as human beings, but also the world around us.

So, I will keep watching you. Maybe if I watch long enough, I will learn more of your secrets. And maybe when a few of you land on me as I work with the hive and your tiny feet and antennae brush against my hands, we will share a moment of true understanding. 

 Photo by Marc D.M. Croswell

Love, 
Sarah

Episode 4: The One Where the Bees Are Annoyed

This past Sunday was rainy, cool, and otherwise horrible on multiple levels, so I did not get to inspect the hive. The weather broke, though, as it does, and yesterday was beautiful. Since it was a work day, I didn't head out until after 6. I skipped the extra shirt and leggings under the jeans this time and was much more comfortable.

I seem to have gotten the hang of the smoker now, and had it going with minimal effort this time. After a little puff at the entrance, I pulled off the top of the hive. While watching it earlier in the day, I noticed some ant activity on one side. They seemed to be attracted to the dead bees that had be squished under the lid at some point. I Googled "ants in beehive" and the general consensus was that ants are annoying, but not really a big problem, so there is not much you need to do. I was happy to see that they weren't actually inside the hive. I snapped a picture and when I went back to look, I discovered that the ants were doing something. Anyone have any guesses as to what they are moving around here? Ant larvae? Bee larvae? Something else?

What...the...hell?

When I went to remove the last few top bars before the follower board, they were glued in with propolis. I popped them off with my hive tool and wondered about this. I decided to take it as a sign that things were going well. The bees are currently building comb on bar 7 that appears straight. I pulled it out and inspected it with no problem. Last week when I checked bar 6 it seemed a bit crooked, so I tried flipping it. This backfired on me because the bees just attached it to bar 5, so I wasn't even able to pull bar 6 out by itself. I could have cut them apart, but I didn't want to cause too much damage, so I pulled bars 5 and 6 together. There was open and capped brood, pollen stores, and nectar stores. Bar 4 was not cross combed and upon inspection I saw some capped drone cells. Some of my recent readings suggest cutting this comb out to help control Varroa, but with such a new hive, I think I will just let it be. There are conflicting opinions on this and I don't think I've decided just yet. 

Bars 2 and 3 were also cross combed, and instead of just letting them be, I decided to pull them out. In hindsight, I think this is what really set the bees off into a defensive mode. There was much more buzzing around my head and one bee landed on my glove. I could tell it was a guard bee just from its behavior. I was hoping it would just fly away, but it continued to buzz and crawl around as I put bars 2 and 3 back into the hive. In an effort to dislodge her, I shook my hand, and then was stung in the glove. I actually watched it happen with some sort of strange fascination tinged with guilt. At least I remembered to smoke the area where the stinger was left to mask the alarm pheromones and avoid attracting any more annoyed bees. They just seemed much more aware of and concerned about my presence this time. Numerous bees were buzzing my head during the entire time I was working the hive. I think another contributing factor was the later hour. Less workers are out foraging later in the day. After the sting (which only punctured the glove, not my hand) I really had to resist the urge to drop everything and run. Since I started with the bees, I've really gotten my tendency to run and swat when I hear buzzing under control. I think I probably still flinch a bit, but I keep still. Seeing that bee sting me was a real challenge to my self control, but I managed to keep it together long enough to close things back up.

So, sighted on this inspection: capped brood, open brood, drone brood, adult drones, adult workers, pollen stores, and nectar stores. Not sighted: her Majesty the Queen (still!) but I choose to believe she is there. I'm starting to think finding the queen is like seeing a unicorn. 

When I was doing some initial research, I came upon Two Honeys, a couple of women working both traditional and top bar hives in another Cincinnati neighborhood. I got in touch with them a couple of weeks ago to ask about mentoring and the possibility of getting a second hive. After talking to Liz, I thought I might be okay to continue going it alone, but seeing how much cross comb is now there with only 7 bars of comb and my inability to find the queen are causing me to re-assess that decision. I think I may need some help after all. Liz said she could come by and work with me for an hour for $25. The advice of someone experienced may be priceless. 

In the mean time, I continue to enjoy watching the bees. Having this hive has made me appreciate my backyard in a totally new way. 

Photo by Marc D.M. Croswell 

It is more of a sanctuary now than ever. 

They thought death was worth it, but I 
Have a self to recover, a queen. 
Is she dead, is she sleeping? 
Where has she been, 
With her lion-red body, her wings of glass? 

-Sylvia Plath, Stings

Bee Viewing

Dear Bees,


Early this week, my next door neighbor was burning brush in her back yard about six feet away from your hive. It was evening and all you worker ladies were very active around the entrance. I was worried that you were getting ready to get the hell out of there because you thought there was a dangerous fire approaching. Luckily, winds kicked up and a storm rolled in, and all is still well in the magical backyard hive. 


You continue to amaze me with your progress and your gentleness. I know that each of you has five eyes, and there are tens of thousands of bees in a healthy hive. That's probably at least 50,000 eyes in that hive. What do you see? Do you see me when I  come sit and watch you almost every day? On the days when I'm sad and the days when I'm smiling? Do you see that sometimes I have a visitor? Do you see the people of the neighborhood moving in and out of their homes? Do you see the squirrels and the birds? Do you see flowers growing in slow motion? 


I like to watch how you land on the landing board at the entrance of the hive. Some of you are very graceful and calculated, flying straight into the entrance without even landing on the board first. Others seem to be a bit more like me, coming in at full speed and crashing onto the landing board, sometimes rolling upside down, legs kicking with all their might until you are right side up again. Since you came from a package, you aren't all related bees. I wonder if this grace is an inherited trait, and if the bees being born now in the hive will have it. 


Life is sort of strange lately, dear bees, and you are constant. This is one of many things I love about you. Now I look at every patch of clover as I walk by with the dog and I smile when I see you there. Even though I don't think one can truly own bees, I feel as though you are mine.


Love,
Sarah

Episode 3: The Tale of the Crooked Comb

I could have also titled this post "The One Where I Burned Myself", "I Finally Lit The Smoker", or "In Which The Beekeeper is Drenched in Sweat", but I'm trying to keep the focus on the bees.
It is a beautiful Sunday here and my bees have been happily occupying their top bar hive for 2 weeks now. It was time for another visit to take out the sugar feeder and check and see how things were going. I tried using cardboard to light and fuel the smoker this week and had a lot more success.

There is my smoke. Finally.

So once the smoker was going, I gathered up my things and headed to the hive. As I began to arrange my assortment of tools, including camera, my finger started burning, and I realized that I had my goatskin-gloved finger touching the hot smoker. No stings today, people, but I burned the shit out of myself. If you know me, this will not surprise you one bit. This did not dampen my excitement, though, so after smoking the entrance I proceeded to start opening up the hive. 

After having challenges replacing all the bars last week, I did some research. Seems that this is a fairly common occurrence with top bar hive since wood expands and contracts with the weather. Everything I read said it was nothing to be concerned about, and that it was fine just to remove a bar behind the follower board (space where the bees are not living yet) So I did that after I got the roof off my hive. I pulled out a few bars and took a peek. Here is the view:

Hello, my friends. Just like last week, they did not seem too concerned about me or what I was doing. Last week was good for my confidence, and I was much less anxious. However, I had on my bee jacket with veil over a tank top and long sleeve shirt, and on the bottom a pair of leggings under a pair of jeans (in case they try to sting my legs.) While it was giving me confidence that I didn't need to worry about stings, my attire was also causing me to heat up considerably, and it wasn't long before sweat was dripping down my face. Next time, fewer layers. I need to get over my sting-phobia anyway. 

Last week, there was comb on 3 bars. The man who built my hive told me they would have comb on 6 to 7 bars in 4 weeks. Well my bees must be over-achievers, because they are building on bar 6 already. I saw quite a few drones flying in and out of the hive during the afternoons this week. I noticed a few on each comb, but nothing too concerning. It also looked like they were constructing the beginnings of a queen cell on one comb, which I read is normal for my race of bees. So I have decided not to worry. I looked for the queen on all the combs and was not able to spot her, but I was able to see brood. 

Newest comb, bar six

A full comb - bar 2 or 3 I think

You can see capped cells and pollen stores in these pictures. Everything on the combs looked good, however, quite a few were starting to attach to each other and one bar was stuck to the side of the hive. When I pulled that bar, some nectar started dripping out. Sorry, bees. So, the beautiful straight comb of my dreams was not there, but it was not the total disaster I have read about in some books and web sites. I think I am going to pull a few bars and make comb guides using popsicle sticks and beeswax and see if that helps them keep things straighter. 

I had to re-light the smoker before closing up the hive, and managed to do so without burning myself again. Once I open up space between the bars, the bees just want to peek their little heads out and see what is going on, and I need the smoke to force them back down into the hive. 

Peekers, along with one bee  to the left helping herself to some of the nectar that dripped off the damage comb.

Overall, it was  a successful and interesting visit today. The bees are very tolerant of me and I am glad. I'm still slightly concerned about my failure to locate a queen, but since there was brood I'm not too worried I guess. As long as the drone population stays under control, I think it will be okay. All I can do is be patient, as with many things in life. 

Thoughts run through my head at a million miles and hour, but hearing the soft buzz brings me into the moment. It echoes in my head for the rest of the day.