Worry Bee Not

We've been a little taddly concerned for our Malarkey bees, being new beekeepers as it were and this our first Winter, harsh and snowy, cold and icy, as such it were etc et al (Sorry about the verbosity - I am currently engaged in Stephen Fry's latest tome and he don't half go on and it don't half rub off, entertaining though he is).

You see, we think we've done all we can to get them safely through to next Spring - healthy young queen, plenty of freshly hatched brood, a hive almost full with honey stores, a couple of buckets of top-up sugar feed, a sheltered spot which catches what there is of a Winter's sun. A closed floor for warmth, enough ventilation so they don't drown in bee-breath condensation. And every now and then I go and press my ear hopefully against the side of the hive and listen for humming.

But because it's been soooooooooo cold of late, there hasn't been a sound. Not a beep, nor a hum, nor a buzzette. We are trying not to think that they are all inside, well, you know...freezing to the 'd' word. We are hoping they are all snuggled together in an enormous bee ball, keeping warm, looking after their truly magnificent Queen Philibert, so when the time comes next year and the sun is more over the yard arm than 'neath it, she'll burst forth in all her majestic glory, soar into the sky and shout, 'Hear I am, boys, drone me up,' or words to that effect, and the whole glorious process of making baby bees can start again and hopefully be so successful we can make an artificial swarm to pop in our top-bar hive (current residents - 2 dead spiders and half a fly). Of course, the frustrating thing is that we can't take the hive lid off because that would let all the cold in and our bees would definitely be done for.

Good grief, bringing up bees causes more worry than bringing up children. But then they make more honey and less mess than children, so I suppose there are pros and cons to either and/or.

And then...last week...in the snow...there appeared overnight... the dead bodies of about a dozen bees. They were fresh, because they were balanced on the new-fallen snow. We could see them. Plain as anything.

Well, you'd think this would be cause for sadness, and yes, for those bees it was, and I said a little bee blessing in thanks for their busy, useful and fulfilled lives.

But it was also cause for celebration! Because it meant that those poor dead bees had been cleaned from the hive by the bees inside the hive. Which means the colony is still alive and doing housework!! Well, I suppose there's not much else to do in this weather, is there? Not for a bee, anyway.

I took courage from this sign. Our colony appears to have made it through this really cold snap.

Fingers crossed for next Spring.

Educating Us

It is said that you learn something new every day. Yesterday, for example, I learned that Scott and Geraldine, our bee mentors, make exceedingly good cake. And today I learned that if you try and balance on one foot in your polytunnel after four and a half hours of digging in the hot sun and try to change your wellies and socks for pumps and bare feet in order to begin the half hour walk home, you are bound to over-balance and put your naked foot down into the pile of horse manure you put in the polytunnel two days ago.

Yuk! Still, no-one bothered me on the way home...

So yesterday evening, Andy and I began our bee-keeping course. Scott and Geraldine are independent bee-keepers, not affiliated to any local association. All they want to do is pass on their considerable knowledge to embryonic bee-keepers like us, and avoid the cliquey attitudes and behaviours that can happen in some clubs and societies. And that's fine by me. I've lost count of the number of times I've tried to contact our local bee-keeping association and been roundly ignored. You'd think, with the state of bee populations at the moment, they would welcome people keen to learn the art. Apparently not.

But we're off and running now! We've signed up for a block of ten 2 hour lessons, theory and practical, half-time tea and cake included. And what a lot there is to take in! Bees are a lot more complex and crafty than I ever thought. And managing a colony is a tricky art. Things to look out for, things to avoid, strategies to put into place to prevent swarming, and all the horrid diseases to which bees are susceptible. It's like being back at university.

But we enjoyed ourselves enormously. So much so that Andy said, 'We should find something else to learn about in the evenings. What else could we do?'
I stared. It was gone ten p.m. I was trying to remember what the name of the other type of brood frame was called - one was a Hoffman, the other was a ...??
So, quite randomly, I said, 'Cheesemaking.'

'We'd need a cow for that,' said Andy. 'Think of something else.'
'What's the name of the frame that's not a Hoffman?' I said. It was cheesemaking or nothing for me, I'm afraid.
'Manley,' said Andy.
'That's it!!' said I.
'I know,' said Andy. 'See, I was paying attention.'

There was considerable bee activity at the allotment this morning. I stopped periodically to watch them going about their stuff. And that's something else I learned today - that bees have the potential to be as good time wasters as chickens. There was also some wire worm activity, but I hoisted them off the plot PDQ - no wire worms wrecking our spuds this year, oh no!

And then I planted some carrots, beetroot and strawberries and netted the gooseberries to stop the birdies getting at the flower buds which I think is what happened last year, thus resulting in a total harvest of 7 gooseberries. Hardly a pie.

And then I staggered home, smelling slightly whiffy and feeling more than a bit achey.

If I was a bee, I thought, as I made my way up the slight incline towards the Manor, I would be able to fly home. But I fear I am even less aerodynamic than a bee; I'd never get off the ground.

Red-bee, stead-bee....GO!

It's a sunny day in England, a warmth is in the sky,
The garden's looking raddled, then so again am I.
It's time to plant some flowers, for bees to make their honey,
So this corner of our homestead will be forever sunny.

And so I don my wellies, and head to the back door
I come back in coz I forgot my gloves, and leave mud on the kitchen floor...

Oh stop! For heaven's sake, Denise, give your poor reader a rest will you? You're not a poet and you really should know it.

So anyway, I drag Andy to the garden centre so I can forge ahead with the plans for the bee garden. Yesterday, after attempting to write a tiger story and failing abysmally as I suddenly realised the story I was writing had actually been written before (remember 'The Tiger Who Came to Tea?' I thought it sounded familiar), I immersed myself in gardening books and magazines and planned out the plants for Bee Garden Project 2009. I am thrilled to find that most of the bee-friendly flowers are ones that have been favourites all my life. Good, old-fashioned cottage garden plants like my grandparents grew in their gardens.

We return with ten bags of multi-purpose compost, half a dozen foxgloves, half a dozen lavenders and a five foot high pussy-willow tree which is currently standing in the hall like an ostentatious coat-stand. After looking at other ready-made plants I decided to grow my other choices from seed so I got a packet each of antirrhinum,verbena, penstemon, scabious, poppy, browallia, forget-me-not, aquilegia, aster, cornflower, hollyhock and lupin. I especially like the antirrhinums because they are called 'Chuckles.' I refused to buy the candytuft because I think the garden centre had got their labelling wrong. What they were trying to sell as candytuft wasn't the plant I remembered from my childhood. But I suppose I may have been wrong, I was only six at the time...

All I need to do now is sow the seeds in the green-house and dig up the front garden whilst I'm waiting for them to grow big enough to plant out. Oh yes, and clean out the greenhouse after the chickens have been using it all winter as a shelter/ hen spa.

And then there's the question of the bees themselves. I've read a couple of books and seen a bee-keeping demonstration at our county fair. And I've tracked down an experienced bee-keeper who does individual bee-keeping lessons using his own set of organic hives. But where can I locate a hive without upsetting the neighbours? I spent some time this morning staring out of our landing window at the flat roof of the extension. 'Hmmm,' I thought, 'we could keep a hive out there.' It's sheltered and catches a good dose of sun in the mornings to encourage the little buzzers to get out of bed. I would have to access it via a ladder from the outside as the landing window is too tiny for me to squeeze through. Well, I might be able to squeeze through but I'm not prepared to try and end up getting stuck like Pooh Bear in Rabbit's burrow. (Although the honey analogy would be approriate). And the roof edge has built-up ridges of about 18 inches that I would need to negotiate (and bear in mind this would have to be performed whilst wearing full martian bee outfit and carrying a smoker and several sharp tools). I'm guessing the roof would be strong enough to bear the combined weight of a hive and me. Or a hive and me stamping around in a panic if the bees have a funny moment whilst I'm tending them.

The back garden isn't an option, being hen domain. Having established that Mrs Slocombe has mental health issues I wouldn't put it past her to have a go at eating bees or at least try knocking on the hive door in order to try and sell them Avon products (her latest money-making venture - she's decided she wants to save up for a caravan and she's seen a funky new model from Germany called a Tab that she's taken a shine to).

Maybe I could screen off an area of the front garden? What do you think?The neighbours would never know if I employed low animal cunning and discretion i.e building the hive and screen at two in the morning and saying 'Bees? What bees?'. They wouldn't notice the comings and goings of 10,000 buzzy insects, would they?

Nah...I bet I could get away with it. I'm very tempted to have a try.