From A to Bee(9)

It was quite interesting to see the opinions bandied around in the meeting, though. Some of us had fallen for the idealistic notion of beekeeping and helping the bees out of this spot of bother they had got into recently. Others were looking at it through commercial eyes as a money-making option in these hard economic times. I have to say, it does seem a little strange to exploit what bees are producing as surely there must be a reason they make it all in the first place. I cannot see that one or two jars of honey are too much to take away but I am sure taking all of the products away from the hive cannot be a good thing. They certainly don't make it for our benefit and for us to take away from them. It seems almost wrong that they are struggling and yet we are harvesting everything they produce for themselves. That cannot be right, surely?



Food for thought.





NOVEMBER 24



The time has come. Tonight was my last session, time to bid farewell to this group of people that I have come to know through a mutual interest over the last few weeks. Who knows if any will gravitate to becoming a true beekeeper and take on the practical element of the hobby next year but I know one thing's for certain – I will be.



David is a bee inspector and it's my understanding now that he is one of the revered few who know exactly what they are talking about. Should I join the British Beekeepers' Association (BBKA), he might pop up during a hive inspection to keep an eye on what I was doing. Daunting as it sounded, tonight David turned into a salesman and recruiter for the local beekeeping association.



For the end of the course, we had a film to watch. It felt a bit like the last day of school when you were a child and you were able to play games or watch the TV. What fun! Halfway through there was a knock on the door and in entered, in my mind, the most beautiful specimen of a beekeeper. The beekeeper I had always imagined. The beekeeper that maybe one day I will be. The beekeeper that everybody knows. The beekeeper that looked, to me, like a morris dancer! It immediately set me at ease. My original stereotypes might be real after all. Here in front of me was a real beekeeper.



Andrew walked in: a bit dishevelled, aged about sixty (I hope that is kind if you are reading this Andrew) with a full-on beard; it was a beard that any man would be proud of, sculpted yet disorganised, fluffy yet manly, the colour and consistency akin to that of Father Christmas. I think I had beard envy. Andrew had little rosy cheeks, though I have to say it was probably due to the cold weather outside rather than an abuse of local ales or cider. He also had a rather large belly, one I would expect of a beekeeper, and a lovely and jolly character.



I knew this was all an act and yet Andrew and David made the perfect double act, lulling you into joining a local association. It must be said however, it did sound like the right thing to do, especially as it meant there was a wealth of knowledge at your fingertips and people to share experiences with locally. No doubt I will need this next year.



I didn't need too much convincing. Here I was standing in front of my idea of a real beekeeper, and I was happy to do whatever he recommended. I pretty much filled out his rather crumpled up and damp forms while he was there but thought I'd better speak to Jo first. Andrew made his exit into the night, obviously satisfied that he had bagged a few more recruits, including a 'Young One' as he called me in obvious delight when I took away his information and membership form with such enthusiasm.



We watched the rest of the film summarising the course and it was actually the first time I had seen bees in action and beekeepers working with them. It was something to behold, thinking that in a few months, that could be me.



The paperwork David was filling out while we watched turned out to be our certificates. At the end we had a ceremony to certify that we had all attended the course. It felt a little like a passing-out parade as we all shook hands with the inspector himself and he wished us luck. We all said our polite goodbyes, left the classroom and headed into the cold dark November evening, certificate in hand, feeling just a little bit more the beekeeper than we were when we first walked into that classroom ten weeks previously. As I walked away looking at my scroll of paper, through the magnificent surroundings of this beautiful institution, alongside some other wannabe beekeepers, I only wished that school had been like this. However, our impending visit to the local pub definitely confined those wishes to the grave, especially as I would get served without question these days.



Still, I am now some way to becoming a beekeeper and I am desperate to get my hands dirty.





NOVEMBER 26





The nights are drawing in so quickly and the days are so short there isn't a lot of time to do anything. We put Sebastian to bed and I have come downstairs to think about where I go with my beekeeping. As I sit on the sofa next to the window staring out into the black, only to see my reflection looking back at me (I am not one for pulling the curtains closed too quickly at night), it seems strange to think I have been whipped up into a frenzy of excitement and amazement about these little insects, only to have to wait for a few months before I can actually do anything practical. There is no way of getting bees this late on in the season as it is just too cold outside. According to David, you generally obtain bees two ways: by receiving a swarm, or buying a small hive of bees from a recognised source. Either way, this won't happen until late spring at the earliest so I have to temper this excitement for now and do as much reading around the subject as possible.