SEPTEMBER 24
A rather apt day, being my son's second birthday, I will forever remember it being the day I extracted my first honey.
It was the moment I had feared. I'd heard horror stories of beekeepers chancing their luck removing honey from the bees late on in the season with the general mood in the hive not exactly being excellent. Bearing in mind my feisty lot, it could be fun. Having taken advice from a few beekeepers recently, I had decided to take the honey from a frame in the brood box. It was evident from the inspection with Alan that there was nothing in the super and so desperate times called for desperate measures.
I tried to think of the human equivalent of what I was about to do to the bees. If you can, imagine spending the whole summer stocking up on groceries and stores for the winter; baking cakes and making stews to make sure there are plenty of supplies while the winter weather sets in. Then you spy your slightly irritating neighbour, who insists on coming in once a week just for a chat, walking down the path to your house. You sit there patiently, knowing what is going to happen, only for him to open the back door and signal for all the other neighbours in the street that the path was clear. People then walk straight into your house and steal all of your home-made produce and stored fruit and veg for the winter. I am not sure you would be happy and you would probably come out fighting, aiming to wallop any greedy neighbour with a broom.
There could be an upside, though, as they may just leave you a roomful of sweets just to make sure you don't starve. Once I'd removed the frame I would be putting on a great big feeder complete with sugar solution which they should be able to refuel with once I replaced the frame. As Alan had said, this was a pretty strong hive with good levels of stores and so a little bit of burglary wouldn't hurt them.
Once we had put Sebastian down for a lunchtime nap, I went up to the hive, filled with trepidation. I went through the motions: smoked them, left them for a little bit, then opened it all up with the hive tool. I started choosing the frame and it was as if they knew what was about to happen. They were worse tempered than usual. I just needed to go through the other frames, choose the best one and then get out. I quickly selected a frame, shook off the bees, brushing those still hanging on with a bee brush (a very soft bristled brush), and made a swift exit.
I drove home and promptly spread a small tree's worth of paper around the kitchen and got down to business. Having realised I was not going to be taking several frames of honey I didn't bother hiring an extractor and so I thought I would go about it in a rather manual way. Therefore this morning, after Sebastian had opened his presents I had got all my equipment prepared.
Usually you would use a serrated knife to decap the cells but this wasn't going to get the honey out of the cells. I therefore decided that I was going to scrape the honey out of the cells using my hive tool. I needed somewhere where the honey would spill into but I didn't really have anything suitable. I ended up finding a bright pink cat litter tray which was perfect for the job and so having cleaned it out and put it through the dishwasher a couple of times, it now had pride of place in the kitchen. Of all the pieces of equipment in the world that were at my disposal I never expected to be using a bright pink cat litter tray for honey extraction but there you go – welcome to my world!
Having set it all up earlier, with the hive tool in one hand and the frame of honey in the other, I thought I was ready, like a well-oiled machine…
… That was until I saw a honeybee flying around my kitchen. I couldn't believe it. I had arrived not even two minutes earlier and already they had found me. I checked that all the windows and doors were closed as I know that bees will follow you, but I was at least 500 metres from the hive, I had driven the long way back with the frame in the boot and then walked straight into the house. Yet this little bee had found me already. Amazing, but surely a coincidence? I let her out the door, hoping that she hadn't sensed the honey. I had to move quickly just in case before she told all her mates.
I gathered up my tools again and rested the frame on top of a piece of kindling wood that was straddling the bright pink cat litter tray. This was to keep it clear of the honey while it dripped out, which was a little tip I had seen online. I gently pressed the hive tool into the frame of honey, being careful not to push the hive tool through the complete frame. As soon as I increased the pressure and it pierced the first few cells, honey oozed out over the rest of the still-covered cells. It was beautiful to see and I couldn't resist running my finger over the golden liquid to catch some before it dripped into the tray. This was to be the first time I tasted my own honey and was an experience I will forever savour. Jo, who had been standing behind me, held out her finger to catch a droplet or two and it really felt special as we both stood there enjoying the moment. As I continued to press the hive tool in carefully, I was struck by how soft the honeycomb was and how little effort I had to put in to extract the honey. It was a real joy but it was over too soon. I only had one frame to do and within a few minutes it was finished. I was looking at a frame now empty of honey as it was all in a waxy mess in the bottom of a bright pink cat litter tray. I was not sure any other beekeeper had ever extracted honey the way that I had just done but I felt pretty pleased. I wrapped the frame up and put it to one side. I would deal with that later.