Episode II: The One Where I Can't Light the Smoker

One week post-installation and it was time to visit my friends and check on their progress. I spent a few minutes of almost every day this week sitting outside the hive, and today I was very excited to see some of the workers returning with pollen. I think in that moment, I finally believed that they were here to stay, and weren't going to decide to fly off on me.
I went over the plan for my first inspection several times in my head since I got the package into the hive. I was really worried that they would start building comb all over the place and all the bars would be stuck together. I also totally psyched myself out reading about Russian bees (the type I chose) and people saying that they were more aggressive. After the slightly traumatic experience of installing the package, I was nervous about getting up close and personal again. I found a lot of internet debate about using smoke vs. not using smoke, but I had already bought a smoker, and people have been using smoke to work with bees since the days of ancient Greece, so I figured that was the way to go. There are also lots of suggestions about what to use as fuel for your smoker. You need something that burns cleanly and slowly. I bought a bag of aspen bark meant to be bedding for reptile cages at the pet store. I thought it would work out okay. Instructions for the smoker said to use some paper at the bottom to get things going and then put your fuel on top of that, so I tore up some junk mail and stuck it in. I lit the paper, it smoked for a minute, then...nothing. I tried stirring it up and re-lighting, and it went out again. After three or four attempts, I gave up on the aspen bark and started looking for alternatives. I settled on some dried leaves and stuck them in. Finally, success.
I zipped up my hood, tucked my jeans into my socks (oh, yeah!), and headed towards the hive. All the time spent messing with the smoker was actually helpful in calming my nerves, but I started to get anxious again as I got closer. I stepped up to the entrance and puffed some smoke there to calm them down, then I waited a minute to see what would happen. The bees scattered for a minute, but then seemed to go on about their business. I pulled off the roof and braced myself for more activity. At that point, I did get a few buzzes around my head that took my breath away for a second. After reminding myself that they could not sting me though my jacket, I kept moving. I pulled one of the bars out behind the follower board (the space still closed off to the bees) to make a little room. Unfortunately, due to my over-zealous application of beeswax to make the bees feel at home, I got some on the sides of the bars and now they fit really tightly together. As soon as I slid some of the bars back, the bees started poking their heads out. I went to grab the smoker to try and shoo them back down inside the hive...and it had gone out. This was the worst possible moment, because I was about to really disturb them. I ran back and grabbed the matches from my porch and tried to re-light it. I used every match in the book without success, but like before, the bees didn't seem all that concerned with me, so I kept moving. I pulled out the forth bar from the front, and there was the beautiful beginning of new comb. I'm sure I had a big smile on my face. Bars 2 and 3 also had comb on them, although not quite as straight. I could see pollen and nectar stores, but did not see any eggs. Her Majesty was not spotted, but it's too soon to worry. For the time being, I will just assume she is there. They attached a comb to the wood at the very front of the hive that I can't pull out, so she could have been there for all I know. I calmed down enough to show my curious neighbors some of the new comb and remembered to check the sugar syrup. Still 2/3 full, so I did not re-fill.
When it came time to close, I had some challenges since I did not have any smoke to chase them back down into the hive. I'm sure I squished a few bees in the process, and I felt bad. I guess it's inevitable, but I still don't like it. Getting the last bar back in was difficult, but I finally managed.
Lessons from my first inspection:
-Need new smoker fuel
-My bees are not mean. Besides the buzzing around my head, none attempted to sting. A few landed on my legs and just checked me out. We're totally friends now.
-May need to sand down one of the top bars so that the rest fit into the hive more easily
-I can take my time. The bees don't seem to mind how long it takes me to do things, as long as I move slowly and steadily.
At some point I must have gotten smoke all over myself, because I can still smell it on me as I sit here and type. That was really my biggest challenge of the day.
Now that I know I can do this, the struggle will be not to open up the hive too much. It's so interesting to see the progress, but I know the bees won't appreciate it if I mess with them a lot. I guess there's always a chance they could decide to leave.
I took my camera with me, but I was too concerned with everything else to take any pictures while the hive was open. I hope to do that next time. I did get some good close up shots of the entrance, though.

 Don't be hatin',we're just pollinatin'

Today the bees taught me that patience pays off, and that I should trust them to do what they know best. I'm so excited they're still here. The past few days have been rainy, cold, and depressing, but the weather finally broke today. Seeing that beautiful new comb was the highlight of my weekend.

Little chemic-artisan,
Doing work no other can,
Deep in dewy nectaries,
Petal-walled refectories--
Apple-blossom, columbine,
Rose and lily, all are thine,
Yet, though oft thy weight they bear,
Dost thou know how they are fair?
Thine are sun and summer breeze--
Hast thou aught of joy in these?


From The Bee by Arthur Guiterman

All I Want To Do Is Watch Them

I found myself home from work at a decent hour and and earlier plans were cancelled. The list of things to do around my house is always long. There are friends I owe a phone call, bills to be paid, e-mails to write... and I really want to do is sit in a chair in my back yard and watch my bees.

Dear Bees,
Thanks for sticking around. I feel so peaceful watching you, but a little lonely, too. I'm resisting the urge to open your hive and see what you're doing. I know you need privacy and quiet so you can keep working hard on building your comb. Oh, and could you please try to make it straight so the bars don't stick together? That will be better for all of us, I promise.
Love,
Sarah

Episode 1: In which there were many bees, and one terrified beekeeper

Sunday was the big day. It was finally time to pick up my bees, bring them home, and install them in their new home. We had absolutely perfect weather the entire week, but on Saturday a cold snap hit, and the high for Sunday was only 50 F.
I forgot the directions I'd written out for myself, and after many twists and turns and wondering if I was ever going to make it to get my bees, I arrived at the farm. The only indication that I was in the right place were the many Langstroth hives visible from the street. There was no sign or street number. I drove about a quarter of a mile down the gravel drive to a small white garage-type building. There was a woman inside who asked for my name. I stepped inside and saw about 6 packages of bees lined up against the wall. She picked mine up from the far end and walked towards me... There they were: my bees. Bees packages are sold by weight. I bought a three pound package of Russian bees with a marked queen.

There were a couple bees hanging on the outside of the package. I gingerly took it from her, holding it away from my body. "You're new to this, aren't you" she said. Yes, it was glaringly obvious. With no hesitation she brushed the stragglers from the screen with her bare hand. "Just put them in your trunk." I think she was concerned about me driving off the road if she had missed one and it ended up flying around inside my car. As I walked with the bees out of the garage, I was surprised at how quiet they were. I expected a loud, raucous buzzing, but it was actually very soft, almost like someone whispering "buzzssss." That much, at least, calmed my nerves.
I managed to find my way home with less difficulty, and it was time to get the bees into the hive. There are a few different methods you can use, but the most popular one involves thumping the whole box on the ground so the bees fall to the bottom and then shaking them out into the hive. Trust me, I watched about 20 YouTube videos of this. It seems (and is) a rather violent way to do things, but it's the best way to get all the bees into the hive together. I was prepared as I could possibly be, but it still wasn't really enough to prepare me for what I was about to experience.
I carefully pried the lid off of the box and pulled out the queen cage. Packages are made up of extra workers from strong hives and a new queen, so the bees aren't that familiar with her. The queen is kept in a small screened cage to give the workers time to familiarize themselves with her scent and pheromone. At one end of the queen cage is a cork, and at the other is a cork in front of a candy plug. Most books and schools of thought instruct you to remove the cork in front of the candy and hang the queen cage inside your hive. The workers eat through the candy, allowing an gradual introduction of the queen. When I bought my hive, the man who made it gave me a lot of advice. One of his pieces of advice was just to open up the queen cage and dump her in (the direct release method.) Using this method creates a risk that workers will kill the unfamiliar queen. My hive man said "they're so desperate for a queen, they won't kill her" He had several strong hives on his property and a lot of experience. He also got his bees from the same supplier as me, so I decided to go with that method. I removed Her Royal Highness from the box of bees and set the queen cage to the side. That created a small opening where immediately a few bees escaped and started flying around. That's when my adrenaline started flowing. Only a few bees flying around and a few thousand more were inside that box that I was about to dump out. I thumped the box on the ground, and the buzzing immediately grew louder. I think there was a direct correlation with the volume of buzzing and my heart rate at that point. And then, I dumped the bees out.
Holyshitomgomgomgbeeseverywhereimgonnadieomgtheyrelandingonmeholyshitomgomgpleasedontsingme
Yeah... they went everywhere. I mean, they went into the hive, but immediately they were crawling up the sides and many were flying everywhere. It was pandemonium, and I was fighting with all my might not to start swatting all over the place and run for screaming for the hills. I tried to remember to breathe as I picked up the queen cage, pried the screen off, and dumped her in, too, while saying a prayer that she wouldn't fly away. Then I had to try and get the bars back on the hive and close it up. No one told me that the bees would be everywhere and it would be basically impossible to do that without squishing them. I didn't buy a bee brush (and was seriously regretting that in this moment) so I pulled up a handful of grass and used it to brush bees out of the way as I put the hive back together. There were a few casualties, but I think I managed to do it with a minimal amount of damage. The bees were all over me...my legs, my arms, they even landed on my veil. I stepped away and hoped they would fly away on their own. Immediately the bees in the hive started coming out the entrance and fanning their wings. They release a pheromone call the Nasonov pheromone that tells any bees that are outside where home is. It's really fascinating to watch. I was high on adrenaline, still kind of scared that a bee was going to sting me, and amazed that I had actually done it. The bees were in the hive.
I walked back to the house and took off my bee suit. There was one bee on the back that had stung the suit, but I managed to complete the process without getting stung in the skin. After I changed and my heart rate came down a bit, I went back outside to check things out. There were some bees flying around the hive, but minimal activity at the entrance. They clustered together inside to stay warm. I could not believe what I had just done. I don't like bugs, or things that sting, and I just handled several thousand bees. I was proud of myself. So, on Sunday the bees affirmed for me that doing things that are scary can be extremely rewarding.
I am so enthralled and amazed already, and very excited to see what more the bees have in store.

"Marriage, birth, or buryin'
News across the seas
All you're sad or merry in
You must tell the Bees"
-Rudyard Kipling, The Bee-Boy's Song

 

The BEEginning

My mom tells a story about me as a two year old, sitting in a yellow chair and getting stung by a yellow jacket. "Mom, that mean bee stung me" I said. I've hated flying insects ever since. So how did I get here? A quarter life crisis, perhaps? (Yes, I'm planning on living to120.)
A series of fateful events in my early twenties led me to where I am now: almost 30 years old, slaving in a cubicle for the Corporate America I had so much disdain for as a younger person. I wanted to be a naturalist, a writer, a marine biologist, a horse trainer, or a veterinarian. I wanted to live in the country. I dreamed about moving out west. And here I am, working in market research, owning a home that straddles the line between suburbia and urban Cincinnati, Ohio. (Yes, I called it a cultural wasteland in my teens. More on that some other day.) As much as I try (and sometimes succeed) at finding contentment with what I have in life, my inner voice is always whispering to me about what could have been, and what could be. As much as I appear to "have it together" in many ways, I constantly fight a feeling of being lost, like I'm just mindlessly wandering through life and suddenly realize where I've ended up, and it's not where I wanted to be. What happened? Where am I?
So, I started thinking and looking for something that would be...grounding. I wanted something that would be me feel connected to the earth again and counteract the feeling of directionless floating. I honestly can't remember the first time the idea of keeping bees came to me. I remember my grandpa telling me about his dad having beehives when he was younger. I contemplated and researched, and decided that I would try to learn as much as I could this summer and then give it a try next summer if I still had interest. Then, after a fateful Craigslist search for "bee hives", I had suddenly placed an order for a top bar hive from a man in Wilmington, and it was all happening. 
I've ordered a package of bees from Spille's in Morningview, Kentucky. Tomorrow I'll make the 45 minute drive to pick them up, install them in the hive, and then start praying then don't abscond (leave the hive looking for something better.) Thanks to my grandpa, everything is all set. All that's left to do now is melt some pure beeswax on the bars to help the bees feel more at home tomorrow. I've done a lot of reading, but I know there is still much to learn. I know there is a lot we can all learn from the bees. I'm excited to record it all here and share the experience.

Home Sweet Home