JUNE 19
Crikey, the day before Father's Day, which has taken on a whole new meaning since I became one. Not only is it a special day but I also think fathers need it simply to rest after the day before Father's Day. I had so many jobs to do today; put up shelves, put up pictures, fix cupboard doors, mow the lawn, plant out various plants and dig over the allotment. OK the last few were self-induced but I'm not so sure about the first lot of chores. I am sure my workload multiplied today just so that I could take the day off tomorrow. However, I did accomplish another hive inspection unaided. I have to say it is quite a different animal doing it on your own and you feel a lot more exposed without a shoulder to lean on. It all started with a very humorous lighting of the smoker and the afternoon took quite an unexpected turn, involving a tin of paint and a bee…
I was only thinking as I went to light the smoker that I hadn't had any trouble lighting the thing and that I didn't know what all the fuss was about. As a result of then going through about nine matches with no success and finding that I was down to the last one in the box, I started to reassess my initial cockiness. Allowing the paper and cardboard to catch light to such an extent that you can throw a handful of the most delicious smelling cocoa shells on top to produce the smoke is not as easy as it had been before. This was fate – but fortunately the last match caught and I was away, confident that my smoke looked good and I would have no more troubles… little did I know.
I was slightly apprehensive and interested to see what the bees were like again. Would they be as feisty? At least this time I knew my way around – it sounds funny but the first time you deal with a hive 'in anger' is a strange one. Small things like knowing how heavy the frames would be and how much pressure I would need to apply with the hive tool to separate the propolis and, ultimately, knowing the temperament of the bees were factors that I now knew a little more about.
I tried a few different techniques of smoking the hive this time as recommended by a good bee friend, Bernie (@thechoirboy on Twitter). He stated I should smoke the entrance as well before going in. Having left them for a couple of minutes I lifted the roof and as Bernie had predicted there were none on the crown board, not as many 'hangers on' and the kamikaze lot didn't start up immediately either. Thanks, Bernie.
I felt pretty confident going into this hive inspection as my smoke looked fantastic (if you are a beekeeper you will know what I mean by this). The smoke gently escapes the smoker in lovely wisps and folds like a cloud. It hangs around like smoke from a cigar; thick, white and just hanging there in the air. It really is a lovely sight.
It was evident a few frames hadn't been drawn out therefore I decided to keep feeding them a little while longer. This means that I won't be adding a super this week, which is a shame as I would love to see if I could get this one jar of honey. Apparently a beekeeper will add a super when the brood box is filled with bees and all frames have been drawn out. This is the trigger for adding the super and it means that the bees are ready to start drawing out the super to deposit the honey inside. At the end of the season the beekeeper will then remove the super, which is where the excess honey is stored. I have this nagging feeling that I should be replacing the floor now that the colony is established but I still have my reservations on how to do it.
As I worked my way through the hive I started to feel a little bit more in control than I did last week, though I was still not 100 per cent comfortable. I am conscious that I need to monitor what I see and record how many frames have bees on, how many have brood, how many have stores, etc. etc. However, my mind just tends to become a blur. I am concentrating so much on (a) finding the queen and (b) being careful not to hurt or maim any bees that I find while counting the frames and retaining the vital information. It's surprisingly difficult. I think this is perhaps a skill that you learn with experience or perhaps one that comes with swigging a little whiskey beforehand to calm the nerves. Though maybe that would aggravate them more, as I hear they don't like the smell of alcohol.
It was all looking good; I continued smoking, as you are encouraged to do (though not always smoking the bees). I then got side-tracked as my attention was drawn to simply getting through the inspection. My smoker started to suffer and I realised that nothing was coming out. I struggle to describe what happened next as it was genuinely quite unique. It was as if the bees had sensed that my defences were down! Let me first say that I was told that bees do not, under any circumstances, like you even blowing on them (I had this reinforced earlier today when I let out a sigh of nervousness while looking closely at a frame and promptly saw about two hundred bees desert the frame they were on and head straight for my veil!). Here I was essentially blowing a mass of hot air on them with little or no smoke. If you can imagine a scene from The Lord of the Rings with the orcs coming out of the woods; a few at first, and then, sensing the path is clear, they literally stream out of all possible gaps. This description is not far from what I witnessed today. There were a few on the tops of the frames and then suddenly as they realised (a) I had run out of smoke and (b) I had just annoyed a few of them with a hurricane-force wind directed straight at them, they all started filing out of the frames and on to the top. The buzzing sounds started to increase, which happened to be in direct correlation with my heart rate. Keeping calm, I just had to finish off the final few frames.