As I lifted up my trouser leg there was indeed a little sting hanging out of my leg, just above the ankle. In fact it wasn't just one sting, there were two little stings pulsing poisonous fluid into me. I was somewhat perplexed as it really didn't feel like a sting. However, the tell-tale sign was the long yellow stain going down my leg – this must have been the poor bee that got squashed as I swatted at what I thought to be a mosquito.
I was no longer tucking my trousers into socks so this time the bees must have crawled up underneath my trouser leg to attack. There seems to be no option but to look into buying a full-on boiler suit next year. They just seem to like my lower limbs and there is no way of guarding against these ankle biters.
I got back to the inspection, but decided only to check the National hive today as I was a little pushed for time and I was only really concerned about planning for the move. I was really pleased, though, as I saw the queen for the first time in weeks, but stupidly I didn't have my marking equipment with me. (I say this like I would have thought about carrying this out; there is no way alive I would have been able to mark her on my own.)
I went back home, had a cup of coffee and concocted a plan for tomorrow morning. I think I have decided on the following:
1. Go up really late this evening and put a gauze over the entrance to stop the bees flying out.
2. Tie a ratchet around the hive to enable me to move it all in one piece.
3. In the morning lift it into the car and drive to the new site.
It all looks so easy when you write it down over a coffee; but having done a move before I now feel a lot more at ease with it all.
AUGUST 20 – evening
OK, the move is underway. I first of all needed to test whether the hive would fit in the car as a complete entity, as there would be a problem otherwise! It was already obvious that the roof of the hive would have to come off but with the cover board in place, the bees would be safely inside. Before I walked to the allotment I took a tape measure and measured the height of the boot and then once I was standing behind the hive, I measured that as well. There were literally millimetres in it – too close to risk doing it early tomorrow morning and failing to get the hive into the car. I decided I needed to do a dummy run on getting the hive into the car just in case.
I went back to the house, drove the car up to the allotment and reversed rather gingerly until I was about 10 feet from the hive. I tried to secure gauze around the hive entrance before securing the hive using the ratchet. I didn't fancy lifting up a whole hive of bees for them to come pouring out to see what was going on; that wouldn't have been pretty. My first attempt didn't go particularly well and the hive wasn't secure; the bees found it very easy to navigate around my drawing pin secured gauze. They must have just thought I was a complete fool. I left them alone for a moment hoping that they would lose interest as I went to the Man Shed to find some gaffer tape.
I entered the messy oasis of the Man Shed, but none could be found and my hope for electrical tape was also in vain, so I had to put up with layering the rather feeble masking tape. I wasn't too concerned as it was only a temporary measure tonight to just move the hive into the car, but I would need something a little more robust for the actual journey.
Back at the hive, the bees had indeed popped back inside and so I secured the gauze with the layered masking tape; it did look a bit of a mess but I wasn't overly concerned. I started using the ratchet to secure the hive together and all was going well, having watched someone using one on YouTube earlier for good measure. They are amazing little bits of engineering and my hat is docked to whoever designed them.
The ratchet was secured and I started to lift the hive. I did everything right and bent my knees, not my back, but none of this was going to help. OH MY GOD. As I strained to lift the hive, I could not believe how heavy it had become since I moved it there nearly three months ago. I could hardly move it. I had no option, though, as there was no one else around and so I had to have another go; I only needed to lift it about ten feet to a car boot.
I lifted and stumbled my way to the car, all the while listening, rather too closely, to the bemusement in the hive. I rested it on the lip of the boot and as I levered it forward a little, it dawned on me that I was correct earlier on. It was very, very close to fitting in and there were millimetres in it but not in the right direction. To be honest, now that I looked at it very closely, the hive should actually have fitted in given its measurements but it was the angle in which it had to go that was causing the problems, so I didn't feel too much of an idiot. There is a small lip on my boot that I had to ease the hive over first before sliding it in and this was causing the problem.