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 27th April 2009

After a week of illness, this morning sees me feeling much better. I realise with dismay that I have not let Al know my bee suit requirements - the first practical is on Saturday! I dash off an apologetic email and he replies almost instantly, with the request to give him my order at the class.
That evening I find myself sitting with other would-be lady beekeepers. To my relief, only one of our number has ordered her suit, and I feel the beginnings of a bond. We are divided into groups for the apiary visits, and we four find ourselves in Group C. Our first visit will be to the apiary of the fabulously gothic F and her partner M, whose hives are located at the science campus of the University.
Al reminds us that we cannot go on the visit without protective beewear and we still have time to order, as long as we can pick up the suits from his house on Friday. Al lives only 3 miles from me and as my new friend would have to travel in from Edinburgh, and the Borders, I offer to collect their suits and bring them to the apiary, and this is accepted appreciatively, We are a helpful lot, us beekeepers.
We continue to learn more about bee management, including the parts of the hive and the various types available. We are given a list of things to find out about at our visits - learning outcomes as they say in education these days. The theory is interspersed with personal insights and funny stories from Al and Big Al, and again the evening passes quickly. We leave chattering like school children - excitedly calling our good byes - "See you on Saturday!"

Monday 20th April 2009

My husband drives me into Edinburgh for the cheese and wine evening. He and James spend the evening with family who live nearby. I have been to the Botanics, but only walked round the Gardens. Al has said to go to the building with the 2 flagpoles, and I am surprised at the grandeur of the place. It does make me think of intrepid Victorian botanists combing the hills of China or Nepal for exotic plant species destined to become specimens in the glasshouses of the rich.
A receptionist directs me to the Lecture Theatre, and I walk through what seems like a mile of polished wooden panelled corridors. The theatre is a traditional tiered space with a wide desk at the front. There are already a large number of people seated, so I quickly find a chair. A paper is passed around and we add our names to the list of attendees. Several small meetings seem to be taking place between various members, but soon we are being called to attention by N, the association president. I note that N is the same beekeeper who had given me Al's details at the Highland Show.
This is the last of EMBA's Winter lecture series, and is usually the time when new members attending the beginners' class are invited to a welcome evening. This year, they are serving cheese and wine, and also teas, coffees and a delicious selection of home baking. Before the socialising, however, there are a few short presentations. We are welcomed by N, and then informed by the EMBA webmaster about the association website and other Internet and bee related issues. A lady from the Scottish Beekeepers' Association tells us about that body's role in beekeeping, and then the association librarian describes the Moir Library, which is the association's priceless collection of bee literature. Two of last year's beginners then give a presentation on their beekeeping progress. We newbies gasp in surprise as a black clad Gothic figure with a mane of jet hair covering her face (F), and a rather handsome tall young chap (M) come down the stairs and stand facing us. F addresses us in an impossibly high sing song voice, telling us, with the aid of a hugely magnified computer screen, about their attempts to start an apiary and the university where they both work. We are soon roaring with laughter as she describes the health and safety protocols they had to implement as well as making the apiary accessible to organised public visiting. M provides clarification on some of the issues, but for beginners they have a huge knowledge and enthusiasm for the art.
After enlightenment, refreshments. I am engulfed in one of the friendliest bunches of people it is possible to meet. I speak to several classmates. People come up and ask if I am new and whether I have bees yet. Big Al is there with his wife, and we recognise each other. We both sat outside a hall for on Saturday mornings for several years, while our daughters' attended ballet and tap lessons. Another of last year's beginners stops to chat - he has 2 hives, but has found a mentor in one of the older keepers. And so it goes on. As I am not driving, I am persuaded by a small white wine and a slice of fruit loaf - a fine combination.
All too soon it is time to leave, and my husband and son are waiting outside in the car. As we are leaving, Al asks us to email our bee suit requirements to him and he will order them in time for our first apiary visit. We drive home and I talk all the way about the wonders of this new world.