loving_allsorts
New Bee
It’s the end of January, The bees arrived last May and I set them up on my allotment. My first ever colony. I’d already read Ted Hooper’s bee bible and had many talks with my mentor. A very helpful fellow and absolutely one with the bees. Prior to purchasing my colony I’d visited his apiary and we’d inspected one of his hives. His bees were very friendly, they all wanted to come out and say hello and even escorted us back to his car afterwards. Infact a couple even joined us for the car journey back home.
I digress, my apologies. It was quit a hard year for my little ladies last year mostly down to the fact that I wasn’t experienced. I missed and then caught a small swarm on the raspberry bush in the next door neighbours allotment. Once caught, I noticed how few were actually in the hive. It must have been a cast. I had no honey from them last season.
My Lack of experience meant I just couldn’t get the syrup consistency right and it took until towards the end of September before I managed to get some syrup to them that didn’t crystallise.
The weather dropped colder and although I knew they only had about 8 of the 11 frames with stores I didn’t think it worth risking the cold to continue feeding, and anyway, due to the swarming, it wasn’t the biggest colony in the world and so hessian sacked them for the winter.
Knowing they would probably need some feed, a week ago I bought fondant from a website and it arrived Friday. This weekend was wet and windy… but warmish. I thought it time to feed the ladies.
I pulled last years suit on, got my kit together and headed to the allotment. I must say although I have a bit of an irrational fear of bees the inner voice in my head that usually says don’t be a saft bugger and get on with it, this time was a bit hung-over from last night and sounded a bit nervous. I entered the netted apiary all suited up. The wind was picking up a bit and the clouds threatened rain. I didn’t yet put on the marigolds, I lit the smoker and puffed two or three clouds of smoke over the entrance of the hive.
I unstrapped the hessian sacks and then put the gloves on. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I took off the lid and blamed that for the shaky feeling in my stomach. I slowly lifted the lid and placed it to the side of the hive. I gently removed the insulating foam I had placed over the crown board and noticed the ladies had glued it down pretty well especially over the feeding holes of the crown board. As I slowly lifted the edge of the foam around the feed hole I carefully directed one puff of smoke into the gap.
My belly was turning a little and I felt shaky. I have no idea why! After viewing the first feed hole there were plenty of bees there but giving me a signal I had not seen them do before, four or five were sticking their tails straight up at me. A sign which quite clearly said. Leave us alone or we will go straight for your jugular! Although on the outside I was not shaking and appeared confident, inside my guts felt like a washing machine on spin. I felt beads of sweat tickling my brow.
The voice in my head had obviously brewed itself a coffee and become a bit more brave. It started its usual ‘don’t be saft and just get on with It’. I removed the foam and was met with more bee tails sticking up out of the second feed hole. I comforted my self knowing all I now had to do now was to remove the crown board, stick the ripped bag of fondant in there and shut the hive up. Anyway, only one or two bees were out of the hive and flying about.
I started at the corner of the crown board with my hive tool gently breaking the propolis seal. I was being gentle, REALLY gentle. I was taking my time. There was absolutely NO reason for the bees to be annoyed. There was certainly NO reason why they would decide to evacuate the hive. I was doing everything I had been taught, move slowly, work slowly, quietly and gently…
It didn’t matter. MY stomach didn’t churn any more… IT DROPPED. There must be an imaginary cavity just above your knees where your stomach goes when you are petrified because I swear mine was there. The bees started to flood out of the two holes in the crown board. The voice in my head cried out ‘F#%k this’ and hid amongst my churned stomach remains just above my knees. The bees came out in force, flying at me seriously dis-chuffed. I grabbed my smoker and pumped the bellows directing the smoke all over me. The bees just didn’t care. Infact I’m sure that even more came at me trying to get their fix from the smoke which they had missed so much over the winter. Instinct made me slowly move away to a bee tolerable distance from the hive and half the bees started to head back to the hive and walk around on the crown board.
I knew I had to go back and finish the job. Sadly this was not a job you could start and not finish. I used every internal muscle I had to pull my stomach back up under my rib cage, give my inner voice a damn good thrashing and headed back to the hive with determination. I was being battered by angry bees as I removed the crown board. Although the sweat had beaded only one bead had started to run down from under my ear. The crown board was off now and I lay the fondant over the top of the crown board. I gently lay the crown board on top of the fondant and placed the lid onto the hive. It started to spot with rain and the bees started to reduce in number. The bees clutching to my suit started to crunch themselves up as tight as they could. They looked cold and lazy. What a relief it was to get that lid on. There were still plenty of bees about but no more would be taking off and many were heading to the entrance of the hive.
The sweat on my brow started to dry up. The bead of sweat under my ear had tickled its way down my face and was at the top of my neck now. I hessian sacked the hive up and noticed how few bees were out and about now. I was going to start packing up the kit when I was made suddenly very aware of a horrifying fact. I froze terrified. The bead of sweat at the top of my neck started to move back up towards my ear. It started to vibrate! It buzzed, it disappeared and then I felt tickling in my hair. I kept my head as still as possible within the hood and sped to the entrance of the apiary. I flew threw the gap in the net and then used the tickling to locate the bee in my hair pretty much at the top of the hood. I knew that soon it would start to panic and feel trapped. It would then blame ME for it! I didn’t MAKE it climb inside my suit, infact I can categorically say that I REALLY didn’t want it to!! From the moment of realising what it was that was tickling me I was just waiting for that HOT painful injection of venom into my skull. IT was bound to sting me. I was now outside of the apiary netted area, I considered just slapping my head and hoping it’s tail was not located against my head. I thought better of it and gently unzipped my hood and removed it to the side and crazily flicked my fingers over my hair. Panic had turned me into a wreck. I ripped the suit off me and ran to the end of my allotment. I sat for a while brushing madly at my clothes. My brain created a fictional tickling sensation under my sleeves, around my neck, in my hair, on my legs. My eyes saw no bees on me, but my brain told me I was covered. After 5 minutes I realised what a fool I was. I again had to return to collect my kit and to collect my suit.
The panic subsided, I walked to my suit and brushed the few bees off it with a leaf. The apiary was clear of bees so I entered, ensured the hessian sacks were secure, and collected my kit. I left the netted area and fastened it up. I was entirely annoyed at my stupid self. Dismayed I truned to head towards the car. It is only then that my brain regained normality and I heard the laughing. I turned to see, for the first time, two rather old gents in an allotment not far from mine sitting side by side on a bench holding their sides and swaying backwards and forwards crying with laughter. I realised what a spectacle it must have been to see a beekeeper running up his allotment ripping his suit off as he goes and then sit madly and insanely brushing at his clothes.
I smiled at them and called over ‘good morning…Got one in the suit!’. They didn’t reply, they couldn’t. I Walked to my car and off I went.
I will be buying a new suit next month for sure! And I will have to sort out my damned irrational fear.
I digress, my apologies. It was quit a hard year for my little ladies last year mostly down to the fact that I wasn’t experienced. I missed and then caught a small swarm on the raspberry bush in the next door neighbours allotment. Once caught, I noticed how few were actually in the hive. It must have been a cast. I had no honey from them last season.
My Lack of experience meant I just couldn’t get the syrup consistency right and it took until towards the end of September before I managed to get some syrup to them that didn’t crystallise.
The weather dropped colder and although I knew they only had about 8 of the 11 frames with stores I didn’t think it worth risking the cold to continue feeding, and anyway, due to the swarming, it wasn’t the biggest colony in the world and so hessian sacked them for the winter.
Knowing they would probably need some feed, a week ago I bought fondant from a website and it arrived Friday. This weekend was wet and windy… but warmish. I thought it time to feed the ladies.
I pulled last years suit on, got my kit together and headed to the allotment. I must say although I have a bit of an irrational fear of bees the inner voice in my head that usually says don’t be a saft bugger and get on with it, this time was a bit hung-over from last night and sounded a bit nervous. I entered the netted apiary all suited up. The wind was picking up a bit and the clouds threatened rain. I didn’t yet put on the marigolds, I lit the smoker and puffed two or three clouds of smoke over the entrance of the hive.
I unstrapped the hessian sacks and then put the gloves on. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I took off the lid and blamed that for the shaky feeling in my stomach. I slowly lifted the lid and placed it to the side of the hive. I gently removed the insulating foam I had placed over the crown board and noticed the ladies had glued it down pretty well especially over the feeding holes of the crown board. As I slowly lifted the edge of the foam around the feed hole I carefully directed one puff of smoke into the gap.
My belly was turning a little and I felt shaky. I have no idea why! After viewing the first feed hole there were plenty of bees there but giving me a signal I had not seen them do before, four or five were sticking their tails straight up at me. A sign which quite clearly said. Leave us alone or we will go straight for your jugular! Although on the outside I was not shaking and appeared confident, inside my guts felt like a washing machine on spin. I felt beads of sweat tickling my brow.
The voice in my head had obviously brewed itself a coffee and become a bit more brave. It started its usual ‘don’t be saft and just get on with It’. I removed the foam and was met with more bee tails sticking up out of the second feed hole. I comforted my self knowing all I now had to do now was to remove the crown board, stick the ripped bag of fondant in there and shut the hive up. Anyway, only one or two bees were out of the hive and flying about.
I started at the corner of the crown board with my hive tool gently breaking the propolis seal. I was being gentle, REALLY gentle. I was taking my time. There was absolutely NO reason for the bees to be annoyed. There was certainly NO reason why they would decide to evacuate the hive. I was doing everything I had been taught, move slowly, work slowly, quietly and gently…
It didn’t matter. MY stomach didn’t churn any more… IT DROPPED. There must be an imaginary cavity just above your knees where your stomach goes when you are petrified because I swear mine was there. The bees started to flood out of the two holes in the crown board. The voice in my head cried out ‘F#%k this’ and hid amongst my churned stomach remains just above my knees. The bees came out in force, flying at me seriously dis-chuffed. I grabbed my smoker and pumped the bellows directing the smoke all over me. The bees just didn’t care. Infact I’m sure that even more came at me trying to get their fix from the smoke which they had missed so much over the winter. Instinct made me slowly move away to a bee tolerable distance from the hive and half the bees started to head back to the hive and walk around on the crown board.
I knew I had to go back and finish the job. Sadly this was not a job you could start and not finish. I used every internal muscle I had to pull my stomach back up under my rib cage, give my inner voice a damn good thrashing and headed back to the hive with determination. I was being battered by angry bees as I removed the crown board. Although the sweat had beaded only one bead had started to run down from under my ear. The crown board was off now and I lay the fondant over the top of the crown board. I gently lay the crown board on top of the fondant and placed the lid onto the hive. It started to spot with rain and the bees started to reduce in number. The bees clutching to my suit started to crunch themselves up as tight as they could. They looked cold and lazy. What a relief it was to get that lid on. There were still plenty of bees about but no more would be taking off and many were heading to the entrance of the hive.
The sweat on my brow started to dry up. The bead of sweat under my ear had tickled its way down my face and was at the top of my neck now. I hessian sacked the hive up and noticed how few bees were out and about now. I was going to start packing up the kit when I was made suddenly very aware of a horrifying fact. I froze terrified. The bead of sweat at the top of my neck started to move back up towards my ear. It started to vibrate! It buzzed, it disappeared and then I felt tickling in my hair. I kept my head as still as possible within the hood and sped to the entrance of the apiary. I flew threw the gap in the net and then used the tickling to locate the bee in my hair pretty much at the top of the hood. I knew that soon it would start to panic and feel trapped. It would then blame ME for it! I didn’t MAKE it climb inside my suit, infact I can categorically say that I REALLY didn’t want it to!! From the moment of realising what it was that was tickling me I was just waiting for that HOT painful injection of venom into my skull. IT was bound to sting me. I was now outside of the apiary netted area, I considered just slapping my head and hoping it’s tail was not located against my head. I thought better of it and gently unzipped my hood and removed it to the side and crazily flicked my fingers over my hair. Panic had turned me into a wreck. I ripped the suit off me and ran to the end of my allotment. I sat for a while brushing madly at my clothes. My brain created a fictional tickling sensation under my sleeves, around my neck, in my hair, on my legs. My eyes saw no bees on me, but my brain told me I was covered. After 5 minutes I realised what a fool I was. I again had to return to collect my kit and to collect my suit.
The panic subsided, I walked to my suit and brushed the few bees off it with a leaf. The apiary was clear of bees so I entered, ensured the hessian sacks were secure, and collected my kit. I left the netted area and fastened it up. I was entirely annoyed at my stupid self. Dismayed I truned to head towards the car. It is only then that my brain regained normality and I heard the laughing. I turned to see, for the first time, two rather old gents in an allotment not far from mine sitting side by side on a bench holding their sides and swaying backwards and forwards crying with laughter. I realised what a spectacle it must have been to see a beekeeper running up his allotment ripping his suit off as he goes and then sit madly and insanely brushing at his clothes.
I smiled at them and called over ‘good morning…Got one in the suit!’. They didn’t reply, they couldn’t. I Walked to my car and off I went.
I will be buying a new suit next month for sure! And I will have to sort out my damned irrational fear.
was due to the wrong clothing protection (all sorted now after my incident straight away) and luckily my moment was in my own garden, so no true 
