T.G.I. Flyday here today. All my hives are alive, and many, many bees were out flying today in the warmth.
I got to feed them, and replace some straw in the top of their hives; I was happy to find that the wet mouldy straw was only around the top and outside edge – where it was nearest the roof and corners. Nested around the bottle of syrup and the opening in the center the straw was dry and golden, bees dry.Bees were everywhere, all over the paths, in the chicken bucket, and all over.
The guineas were unperturbed, scritching around right in the middle of the hive while the bees were thick in the air. They don’t care. This is the first time we’ve had guineas that come and hang out at the house (thanks to Galahad raising them), which is great, because this is where they need to do their tick-eating thing. That’s what I hired them for.
This time I tried to wrap the tar paper so that it was sealed and went up under the flange of the beehive lid, so in theory the water sheds over the tar paper wrap, but I can still get the lid off anytime. We’ll see.
I put a piece of tape on the corner before doing the fold so the paper doesn’t tear- that worked well.
Like gift wrapping. The paper is all folded down tight and taped to the eke. That lid is upside down by the way, just for while I work.
That’s what it looks like inside- the straw, and the bottle of bee syrup that they can access from the hole in the inner cover.
Here the lid’s back on.
The bees were out, because it was a nice day (about a month ago). They were flying and curious.
When I wrap them all up they are shut in entirely for a few minutes before I cut their doors open again.
This one is done. Except I have a bigger sheet of ply I put over the lid like a second, bigger lid.
The one in the background has not been done yet:)
Will they winter?
This year I have three hives to winter for the first time, since I purchased a second hive (nuc) this year, and I had one split (dramatically) and caught the swarm. I also have three sizes. 1,2,3 – my largest is three supers (Violet), and Pansy is one super. I’ve only lost a hive once, so I’m currently one for three, so this year will be interesting, based on the size of each hive, and of course the weather is the biggest factor. I’m also hopeful that being able to feed them in warm windows and replace the straw if it gets wet will be a boon.
At “dusk” (ok, dark), I got the hive box ready. One super full of drawn comb and fresh foundation, another empty super, and an eke. The whole empty upper box thing is to imitate a spacious swarm box. So they can all crowd up in the ceiling.Then I went to get the nuc box from the woods. Whoa! Quite a few bees on the outside of the box. More than before.They’re so neat. They’re like lined up in stacked rows. And quiet, just a low hum. It was bedtime.
Ok, so my big idea was just to put the box inside the hive, and let them flow out of the box in their own time. I was in no mood for dumping.Only problem, the nuc box is taller than my vacant woodenware is tall. One more super would be perfect, but literally the day before, I’d bumped up Violet another super, (I name my hives- this one will be Pansy, if all goes well) and had only two left. Would be plenty, except for unexpected eventualities.
Therefore, I improvised.One tub, and a hammock repurposed as a gasket, to close up the little gaps (about a quarter inch), because Rubbermaids aren’t Langstroth compatible. Quite close to the right size though.
Then I got to spend a half hour picking bees off myself. They were walking around; I think they’d walked off the box up my arms during the transfer, and were just dopey and confused. On my head, in pockets, on my back. You don’t want to peel off the suit and crush them in the process (sting, sting) or release bees in the house. I’d pluck them off and poke them back in and walk towards my door, dying to be finished and then buhzzz, buhzzz. Another one! Another two, four, eight, twelve. Finally I was clear.
The next day: Uhoh. There’s a breach in the gasket. They’re acting swarmy still, which could mean that they’re still sending out scouts to shop for the next place. Good, though, because it means I have to go in. I wanted to get in and take the nuc box out, and get rid of this stupid Tupperware arrangement, but was reading how I had to keep them locked in, and was conflicted.
Look what’s inside! Walls of bees. They’d vacated the nuc box alright, and I lifted that out, and there were straggling bees all over the it and the hammock. Many of them flew back while I was adjusting- pushing all the bees back off the edge so I could get a lid on them.After the lid was on, in the interest of no bee left behind, I went over each object (hammock, box, tub) one by one, cleaning off the bees and dropping them in the hole in the cover. Lots of them were walking. When almost all of them were in, and the rest airborne (they’ll be fine), I closed up the hole.
They had a completely different vibe today. Instead of the intense, excited potential, it was a much more chill, Sunday morning after the rave vibe. No casualties, no stings, and based just on their mood, I think that means they’ll stay. It could mean that they’re in a content waiting state, but I’m hoping it’s just cool down after the swarm, and soon they’ll go back to work.
Lots of wasps out lurking around, and the bees weren’t mounting their usual vigorous defense. I hardly see wasps now since their colonies seemed to “stop” at the beginning of August, but there were several, different kinds, getting involved today for some reason.
Oh, and Galahad is sitting on the keets! Sitting on them! Adorable.
Time for the new bees to go from their nuc boxes (temporary housing), to their forever homes.Sheltered from the rain with a hive lid.
These bees were also midnight bees. They came from a agreat distance, and with the aid of caffeine and chatting on the phone, I did very well on the drive back, until I was 10km from home and the black dogs struck. At midnight there was no one else on the road so I crept, 40kph the last few klicks. My theory was if I fall asleep and go in the ditch, I’ll go in slow. So tired.
I got home and fell fast asleep in the driver’s seat the moment I shifted into park, sleeping next to the boxes of bees belted into the passenger seat until dawn. It was really neat, a different, dreamless but not completely unaware sleep, with the light humming of the bees next to me. Not often one sleeps next to bees, I suppose.
I was annoyed by the ping of rain in the morning, that forced me to move, to put the bees in place on their prepared stands, and cover them for the day’s downpour.
The following day came move-in day.
The four frames in the nuc box get placed into a super, alternating with brood-ready comb frames, and a frame heavy with honey on each side, for insulation.
These bees had built some significant burr comb on the bottom of the frame, so much it wouldn’t go in the super, and I had to slice that off. While I was doing that, always a delicate job, I did the unthinkable: I dropped a frame.
I’ve never done that before. Immediately I heard Klaus’s voice in my head saying to stay prepared (in the event of a sudden sting), and never drop a frame.
I didn’t drop it from very high, it slid before it fell, but with a frame, however it lands is going to be bee side down.
Right away my feet were stuck where they were. I picked up the frame and there was a pool of bees rumbling around on the ground, all around my feet. Not to mention suddenly three times more airborne as a moment ago.
I finished with the other frames, then crouched and started scooping bees into my hand with the bee brush, and dropping them in the super. I got most of them this way, and the rest were forming a group and on the march. Here they are starting up the leg of the hive. So smart!
I picked up the straggling individuals until I could move my feet; the group seemed to have it handled. Amazingly, I did not get stung. More amazingly, not one bee was killed! Not one bee body from the drop. Inside the empty box, the remaining bees are doing the same thing, grouping up, here on the wrong end of the box. The fallen bees have finished their journey in. 20 minutes later all the bees had found their way inside. The other hive went much better. Phew! Nerve wracking, but no casualties. Moving day never goes all well as you expect.
My bees might just make it! This weird, hot-cold “winter” can’t be good for them.
It was warm enough for me a couple days ago to take the lid off and give them a jar of syrup (amazing. In February!), but I was sick with worry. No bees outside, on a warm day. I was pretty sure I was going to find a dead hive when I lifted the lid. Ugh.
But instead, I found a black knot of bees around the empty jar! Yay! And hardly any dampness, or mold in the eke insulation, which indicates moisture. In fact, it was more dry than last year. I gave them a full jar, put the the lid back on, and then the guard bees came shooting out while I was taping them back up. Hey! You’re jostling us!
This winter with its crazy yoyo temperatures has to be hard on them, but they are still humming in there. Hope they can make it. I can’t open and feed them again yet.
I lost the big hive, my original hive, quite suddenly at the end of last summer, and these, the new bees, didn’t have long to get established, and God forbid, they may have been infected with the crisis from the other hive. But so far, they’re ok. I’m tense about it.This is two bees at the upstairs door, walking around on the tarpaper the hive is wrapped with. On warm enough days, a few come out walking around or flying.
The old bees (on their third summer) are not dividing. I added a fifth super in July. It’s not like five full size supers is unheard of, but it’s tall! I thought they were going to split this year, and I’ve had inviting accommodations all set up, should they feel like swarming. They didn’t.
Now they likely aren’t going to, since it’s too late to set up housekeeping and build up honey stores before the winter. So that’s a huge hive. I guess that means they’re happy. They may winter in three supers this year. Next year, they’ll surely split.
It’s tall! I can’t see into the lounge to check on their syrup, I can’t lift the lid, and I can’t see in if I do, without a ladder. And working off a ladder is terribly hard. I had my first taste of it installing the fifth super, and wow, I kind of wish I’d opted for mixing small and full supers. Moving heavy weight very slowly and smoothly to not crush bees, in a bee suit, is quite a workout – I was dripping, and shaking.
Three weeks ago I got a second hive of bees. Yes, late in the year, but they were from my bee guru, and he was confident I could take them through the winter by putting the syrup to them hard.
I brought them home in the night, seatbelted in on the front seat. They were very quiet. I set them in place on the pre-established base of the hive, with the lid right on top of the nuc box.
First thing in the morning, there was a bee walking about, investigating. Later in the day, there were many bees flying around, mostly backwards, getting their bearings (they leave the hive backwards and hover around a bit, getting a visual impression of the hive’s location, before they leave to work), and some already hard at it, carting in pollen.
I transferred them to the super, but because these nuc boxes have slots in the bottom to prevent frames from clanking around, I couldn’t knock the loose bees out into the hive. I had to leave it leaned up against.
The bees inside were all confused, and slowly moved up the box as a group. Where’d everybody go? Gravity just changed direction too.
Since these bees were unexpected and I didn’t have time to make a batch of bee syrup the first day, I opened a jar of wax and honey from last year and set it in the lounge. Just to get them through that night.
The few jars of wax I have are quite solid, with a bit of honey precipitated out on the bottom. I pushed my finger down the side of the wax chunk so they could get at some of the honey, but it wasn’t soft enough to ooze out.
Next day when I went in to give them syrup- WHOA! They cleaned out that jar of wax. In 24 hrs.
In fact, they made quite a mess. Wax flakes everywhere. I took the dry jar out and gave them syrup.
Inside the first beehive, the art studio is still going strong.
They continue to sculpt the chunks of burr comb and wax that I drop in there to their liking, but don’t do anything with it. Just art.
I got my first chance to get into the hive. We´ve had a warm, early spring, so I’ve been feeding them, and anxious for the right warm day to come, so I can give them the third super. They´ve been unwrapped since the end of April, but this is the first time I´m going to the bottom of the hive, and the inner lid is coming off.
Phew, a chance to dump/brush all that scrap straw off the inner cover.
Since I´m going right to the bottom of the hive today, I´m wearing my bee suit. They might get testy before I get done (They didn´t. My bees are so laid-back).
The hive´s doing very well. Saw the queen – she´s so huge. Two queen cells, so they´re up to something, but I don´t think division. They might be replacing her, as there was caped brood but no brood less than a week old. I´m leaving that alone. Still, or already, a few solid frames of honey.
It get´s a bit out of hand with all the frames, and spare supers, etc, planning how I´m going to shuffle and redistribute frames.
I´m also happy to get these original plastic frames that the nuc came with up to the top super, so I can take them out this year.
Mostly my bees have been well behaved, only a little bit of bulging honey frames. A couple of burr combs full of honey that I had to break, and honey dripped all over- that keeps them occupied.
I have woodenware now for another hive. This year I want to get a second nuc, and still be prepared in case hive #1 splits. This will step me up to a different league of beekeeping. A not-yet-serious, but not-quite-casual league. Bees take quite a bit of time and work, more than is immediately apparent, and I´ll notice the difference if I double them.
I was in the apiculture supplier´s retail space, waiting for my order to be gathered up, when the cashier commented to me “That´s so nice, that you still use wood and wax”.
As in, “Isn´t that quaint”.
I was actually startled. I had been marveling at the towers of styrofoam prefab hives, but when she said that, I was hit by how now wood is the exception. That´s why they have to dig it out of the back room. Everything is plastic. Plastic frames, plastic foundation, plastic hive parts now. No assembly, nails, or skill required.
Someone rolled through a minute later inspecting my growing pile of un-assembled woodenware and thoughtfully told his partner that that wood would “probably be nicer, for when you have to burn them”.
Yeah!! On the awful occasion that you have to bonfire hives because of disease, YES, it might be “nicer” to torch wood and wax and wire than 40 pounds of plastic and extruded polystyrene!
This left me thinking:
What is the world coming to?
What about when the plastic runs out?
How awful for the BEES!
If it´s bad for us to drink out of plastic water bottles and live with off-gassing carpet, are the bees supposed to be unaffected in a 100% plastic house, growing from larvae on a plastic bed, living in a plastic box sitting in the sun?
I unwrapped the hive a few days early. Hot weather. By all signs, they wintered well and are thriving.
i ripped the tarpaper off the front, and the styrofoam insulation, and scooped most of the straw out of the bee lounge.
There was a moisture breach and quite a bit of mold on the front corner of the bee lounge (aka eke), but I guess that´s what it´s there for – there doesn´t seem to be water or mold incursion past the inner cover.
The bees are polishing off syrup jars quite rapidly already.