Thursday 13th May 2009

A beautiful day spent mostly in the garden. I am heading back into the kitchen when I spy Mr M, my neighbour, out in his patch. I grab a box of eggs to take out to him as we are overrun with them - he sees me approach and wheels over to the fence. I hand over the eggs, which he receives with pleasure, but then delivers a surprise blow. He and Mrs M have been thinking, and they are worried about me having a hive. Where it will be situated means the bees will be flying over the bottom of their garden,where they have a lot of flowering shrubs and also that is where their pool filter pump is. They understand I will be very disappointed and don't want to 'cramp my style' (?) but they feel that a whole hive of bees flying over, especially when Mrs M is changing the filter, would be too much. I smile and nod and say I understand how they feel, (I don't - how will a whole hive of bees fly over just when Mrs M is changing the filter which happens once a year and it is only stupid carp which don't actually do anything interesting of useful or......) I take a deep breath - Mr M is badly disabled and suffers from a nasty condition, and Mrs M works full time, cares for him and does all the household chores on her own. They don't need me to add to their stress. I suggest that I ask Al to come round and look at my proposed site and have a chat with them. Mr M says that would be an excellent idea, and we part still as good neighbours. I mutter darkly for most of the evening.

Monday 10th May 2009

Today is the start of the exam season in our schools, so tonight's class is to be held in the school snack bar. A very unsuitable place to hold a class as the acoustics are appalling, but that is the way it is. Tonight Al is taking the class on his own, and he begins with some very exciting news. A beekeeping member of EMBA is emigrating to France and has several hives which he no longer requires - about 30 - a mixture of Nationals and Smiths. Al has bought them all - confident that we newbees will snap them up. A buzz of excitement goes round and is amplified hugely by the cavernous interior of the refectory. He passes a piece of paper round and we all have to write our names down and what our requirements would be. He will then sort out what is available and there will be a draw the following week. Everyone seems to want National Hives. I am more disposed towards the Smith Hive, for no other reason than it was designed by Willie Smith of Innerleithen near Peebles and so is surely more suitable to the Scottish climate?
After that diversion, we huddle round a TV screen and are shown a clip from a German wildlife programme which has filmed a queen bee's mating flight!
Our main topic tonight, however, is swarming. Al shows us another video, this time starring himself as The Beekeeper coming along to deal with a swarm of bees. The swarm is in a tree in his garden and we see him knocking the swarm into a skep, covering it until evening, to let any flying bees return, and then dumping it in front of an empty hive. What a glorious sight it is to see this company of bees marching en masse into their new home. They were Al's bees anyway, and he knew they were going to swarm, so he took the risk that he might lose them so that he could produce this wee film for the beginners. Fortunately his hunch that they would stay in his garden paid off and it was a very valuable thing to see.
He talks about signs of swarming and what to do to prevent losing our bees. This is done my means of creating an 'artificial swarm' . You make the bees think they have swarmed by taking the frame with the queen and some attendants out of the hive and putting it in a new hive. The original hive is moved to a different spot and the hive with the queen is moved back to where it was (following ok?) The flying bees return to the hive and find there is now plenty of room - they all think they have swarmed, so they continue as before, while the other hive with the non flying bees will rear new queen cells and thus a new colony is born. Simple! Well - I think I understand, but it feels a bit like trickery to me. A lot of beekeeping seems to be about management and manipulation and I don't know how I feel about that.
Our next visit will be to T's apiary. A very experience beekeeper who lives in one of the leafy western suburbs of Edinburgh. Apparently we get tea and cakes too - nice!

Saturday 8th May 2009

The past few days have been extremely wet, and yesterday was torrential rain. This morning there are still heavy showers, so I wonder if the apiary visit will be on. As instructed by Al, I phone the beekeeper, N, at 9.30 am. He is hopeful that the rain will clear in time to have a look at a couple of hives, and I should come along for 1 pm. He gives me directions to the apiary, but - this is my ancestral land - didn't my Great, great great Grandfather die falling from a haycart in 1840 in those fields?
I head off in pouring rain, looking hopefully at the north eastern sky. I miss the turning and find myself heading down a narrow steep road - the wrong way. i have to drive for a couple of miles before I can safely turn round and head back up to the junction. As I finally arrive, 10 minutes late, I meet N and his wife as they are driving down the track from the apiary. Rain has stopped play today, so he has had to cancel. The bees do not like rain, and would be very unhappy if we took their roof off today. I am not surprised by this and begin to drive off, but I am stopped by the waft of wild garlic coming in through the open car window. I am surrounded by masses of it. I park and spend some time foraging for wild garlic (or ramsons as they are also called), getting very wet, but feeling extremely virtuous. I stash my booty in a carrier bag and head home to make wild garlic pesto and wild garlic oil and wild garlic soup and wild garlic bread and .....somebody stop me!

Thursday 7th May 2009

A parcel of books arrives from the well known online book retailer. Feeling that I wanted to read lots about bees, I had perused the searchable catalogue for bee books. Several years ago I bought Ted Hooper's Guide to Bees and Honey and now I had some basic knowledge, I find the book less scary and overwhelming. I feel that i want to read around the subject though, get a feel on the more spiritual aspects of beekeeping, rather than straight how to texts. My parcel today consists of The queen must die, by William Longgood,and, because once I added this to my basket, further recommendations popped up, so I was unable to resist The Shamanic Way of the Bee, by Simon Buxton. To balance that out I also opted for a light novel - The secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd.
James is very grumpy all afternoon and just really wants to nurse a lot, so I pick up the novel. It is a very easy and enjoyable enough read, but I get the feeling I am reading a screenplay. I sit up late to finish the book as I am impatient to start on the others. I notice that each chapter in the Secret Life, begins with a quote from another bee text. Many of the chapters contain quotes from the William Longgood book - The Queen Must Die. I will begin this book next.

Monday 4th May 2009

Most of this evening's class is taken up with discussions about our various apiary visits. Later we go on to learn about the sex life of the queen. Although she normally has only one nuptial flight, she can mate with up to 10 or 12 drones on this single journey. The act of copulation is tantamount to suicide for each drone, as instead of neatly tucking his apparatus back in his trousers, at the end his genitals are ruptured and he falls to the ground, leaving them dangling from the queen. The next drone to catch up with her does not see this as a warning to his own well being - he simply removes the ruptured debris, and has his own wicked way, and so on. The queen stores all this sperm in a special organ called the spermatheca and returns triumphant to the hive with her last suitor's genitalia hanging from her, like the proof of a blood stained sheet, to be lovingly cleaned and cared for by her attendants. (Well, I do like a bit of drama). She then begins her life's work of laying up to 2000 eggs a day, and secreting "queen substance" - the pheromone which keeps the colony working together, and prevents the workers from bringing on more queens.
I ponder over this fact. Who controls the colony? The workers can, in theory, turn any egg which the queen has laid into a potential new queen. The Queen must produce enough of this pheromone to keep the workers happy, so they will not supersede her. A sort of 'bread and circuses' policy on her part, but the workers seem to know the colony will not survive without an effective queen, so is it a win-win situation? True co-operation even? I have too much to learn before I can possibly begin to imagine the machinations of a bee colony.
As we finish, we are given our next apiary visit details. I will be going to the apiary of N, the association chairman. His bees are kept on the edge of land belonging to the nearby agricultural college - land which my ancestors used to work, so I am looking forward to that.

Sunday 3rd May 2009

I am still on a bit of a high from yesterday's visit. I have expounded at length on the wonders of bees, and the absolute need to keep them to poor husband, who fortunately is still on good terms with his daughter. From the kitchen window I spy my neighbours out in their garden. They are so far unaware of my desire to have an apiary close to our boundary wall, so I grab the chance.
Me: "Morning, lovely day"
Mr and Mrs M: "Hi - yes it is"
Me: "Erm - can I run something past you?"
Mrs M (guardedly): "Go on then" raises eyebrows at husband
Me: "Well, erm, I've been going on a beekeeping course..."
Mrs M interjects: "So are you getting a hive?"
Me: "Well, I would like to, but I thought i should speak to you first"
Mrs M: "Oh no carry on - as long as the bees don't sting me"
Mr M: "I love honey, so yes on you go"
I am gobsmacked to say the least. :-)

Saturday 2nd May 2009

I awake early after another anxiety ridden dream in which I arrive at the apiary visit to find that I have forgotten to bring B and C's bee suits. I spend the rest of the visit avoiding them, which is easy because most of the day is spend watching a film in an enormous cinema. I then notice John down in the foyer, with James. He was supposed to have been visiting his daughter, so I am surprised to see them there. I rush down and tell him that he has to go straight home for the suits. He says that he has had an argument with his daughter, I ask if it was a bad one, and he says she was venomous. Golly - I guess I am more nervous than I thought! My step-daughter is the loveliest person you could meet, and doesn't have an ounce of venom in her body, so it's a bit unfair of my subconscious to do that to her.
Anyway - I rush out, still in jammies and put the box of suits and gloves into the car, just in case. John and James are, in fact, going to visit step-daughter, who lives in town with her family, and are dropping me off at the university on the way.
The weather is glorious, and the setting, on the leafy outskirts of Edinburgh is beautiful. We drive around the campus a bit, looking for the apiary and then spot a couple of space suited figures. Guessing that they could either be from the astrophysics department, or beekeepers, we head in that direction. Good guess - I recognise everyone, and find B waiting for her suit - C arrives a few moment later, and we all climb, giggling into our outfits, wondering if it should be wellies in or out of the trouser legs. Big Al, who knows all these things reckons on inside.
As we approach the apiary we have to pass inspection by F, who is required by all those university health and safety protocols to ensure the safety of all visitors. Then it begins. We are split into 2 groups, F leading ours, and the first task is lighting the smoker - a very important part of beekeeping equipment. F uses a few sheets from The Scotsman and a handful of wood shavings. The point is to get plenty of cool smoke - you don't want to torch your bees, but at the same time, you don't want your smoker to go out when you have the hive in pieces. The smoke makes the bees think their hive is threatened by fire, so they fill up on honey, and this makes them feel good and a bit drowsy, so they are less likely to sting. I wonder why it makes them drowsy - if I thought my house was burning, I don't think I would feel relaxed about it!
Anyway, my adrenalin rises as F hands me the smoker, with the instructions to keep pumping it every 15 seconds or so to stop it going out. I am almost overwhelmed by the responsibility, and have to hurry to catch up with the group as they head for a hive, squeezing assiduously as I go.
The main object of today's session is to see how to open a hive and to get to handle the frames. F is very good at explaining what she is doing while working and soon we are all gasping in wonder as she holds up a brood frame, pointing out pollen, honey capped and uncapped brood, and we crowd round to find the queen, marked with a green dot. The mysterious inner workings of a bee colony revealed, and suddenly, all I have learned so far begins to make sense.
I am not sure if it is because I impressed her by keeping the smoker alight so well, but F turns to me and says -" Do you want to take the next one out?" Nervously I take the hive tool - another indespensable item - and gingerly lift out the frame indicated. I feel clumsy in the gloves, but as hold the frame up and look at it, I feel a sense of calm. It is not as frantic as I expected, and it feels such a mindful and serene experience. The beekeeper has to be calm, measured and purposeful when handling the bees and show them utmost respect. Zen and the art of beekeeping. Of course, in this climate it is good to be quick as well as mindful, and the bees begin to headbutt us in protest, so we close up the hive. We walk away, brushing stray bees from each other, still amazed by what we have seen. Bees can sting you in more than one way!