From A to Bee(5)

Well, despite his knowledge of working with wood, if you look up the word 'bodge' in the dictionary, my father's name is there enshrined in history, and so it may not work according to the plans.



I seem to have inherited this 'bodge' gene, if there is such a thing, but I am working on the principle that two negatives make a positive. Therefore our two bodge characteristics might work together well and we will produce a fabulous-looking hive.



Note to self: broach this idea with Dad. It would be great fun to do this together.





OCTOBER 19





The hive-building day is on!



Having loosely discussed the idea, Dad is willing to help out. I wouldn't say he was jumping-over-the-moon keen, but I suppose it isn't every day your son rings to suggest building a beehive together. I have a feeling he is still in shock that his son is becoming a beekeeper. His dreams for many years of me becoming the next champion morris dancer must be slowly ebbing away as I don a different kind of uniform, with no bells in sight.



We have set a rather random date of 6 March to have it all built as I figure my bees may arrive around that time, since that is when the season supposedly gets going, or so I have been led to believe. It should also give both my father and me time to order some of these plans which are readily available online and then order the appropriate wood to have a few trials. God knows what wood I will use, as again it seems there are many different options and nothing is straightforward. No doubt most of the trials will be complete bodges so I just have to get to a competent level of bodge before Dad and I attempt a final sample over that weekend. It's all very exciting.





OCTOBER 21



It has been dawning on me for a while that beekeeping is a little bit more involved than I first thought. Tonight's session reinforced this as we discussed the beekeeping year. Who would have thought it all revolves around a cycle, the same each and every year?



It was fascinating to learn that at the peak of the summer there could be 60,000 bees in a hive and yet a few months later these numbers will have reduced to around 5,000. By my own amazing mathematic ability it means that there are 900 more bees dying than being created every day for nearly two months.



Gradually, as winter turns to spring, the queen will begin to lay eggs and the colony gets going again. Soon she starts to lay towards 2,500 eggs a day; her maximum capacity and more than her own bodyweight in eggs every day. Obviously as a result, the colony expands rapidly.



As a beekeeper you need to tend the colony once a week, usually about half an hour per hive from May through to September in what is called the peak season; you may check more sporadically in the months of April and October, but only on warm days, and during the winter months you are allowed to enjoy yourself and put your feet up while having honey on toast, under beeswax candlelight while enjoying a glass of mead. Must find out more about mead as it sounds delicious!



David also mentioned that if beekeepers are really lucky there could be two honey extractions per year. So it's not a constant stream of honey, as I had thought. There could be one in the spring if you have a strong colony coming out of winter and you have a good amount of early flowers or fruit trees nearby. The usual and more expected harvest is in August after the main 'honey flow'. He also said that it was very rare for a first-year beekeeper to have a good crop of honey as the colony may not be strong enough.



Hmmm… I wonder if I will get any. Just one jar, please!





OCTOBER 22





I ordered some hive plans over the Internet today – all easy to do and very cheap. Something tells me though, having viewed the document online, that it might not be as straightforward as I had previously thought.





OCTOBER 25





My hive plans have arrived. I love the way that the first line says 'competent woodworker required'. I have to say, looking at them, they are not particularly easy. Essentially, all the plans do is provide very exact dimensions, rather than actually telling you how to put the parts together. That is like giving a cook all the ingredients, and then letting them guess how to cook it all. I am not sure how successful I will be at this.



Having put the plans on the sofa I then watched as Sebastian crawled over and pulled himself up to grab the plans before plonking himself back down on the floor with a thump. In a way that only babies can, he then proceeded to read the plans upside down while trying to eat one side and tearing the other. The bemused look on his face as he was attempting this major feat of childhood mirrored my feelings for the plans themselves. His face was a picture and I knew exactly what he was thinking.





OCTOBER 28





At tonight's session, David is running late and we all get talking for the first time. The initial awkwardness of not knowing each other has gone and we have a common interest which makes things easier. There's a real mixture of people getting involved. I find out more about my co-learners. There's the father and son who have been beekeeping before but want to have an update on modern techniques (when I say 'father and son', the son is easily in his fifties). There are a few others who have kept bees previously, including an Aussie guy who sounds quite experienced in keeping bees but only in Australia, who wants to find out why we are better beekeepers (OK, maybe I'm making that bit up). Then there are a few, like me, who just want more information but are keen to get started. There are at least three married couples; it is evident that one of the pairing is keen and the other, duty-bound, has come along for support.