The Good News

Posted by liz on

Here’s the good news as promised, Reader. The bad news, as you’ll recall, is that the bees from the tree have now been combined with the Girls of Summer, and the small swarm I collected last week absconded.

But on Sunday’s inspection of the remaining four hives, I found two absolutely gorgeous queens at work. The queen in Tomboys was moving around on comb the bees had drawn on their foundationless frames. It was beautiful to see. And the queen in Girls of Summer is HUGE. I was spellbound watching her (also moving about on comb drawn on foundationless frames). I don’t know why it’s so uplifting to spot the queen and then to see how healthy she looks and how calm she is and how wonderful the hive is doing. But, I was uplifted.

Another thing that really surprised me was the health of the split hive. In July I took a frame containing one or two queen cells from Tomboys; from other hives I added two frames of brood and a frame full of honey, and I started a new hive. And though they haven’t drawn new comb since then, they’ve certainly filled the frames with which they began, and those frames were covered with bees. The colony seemed calm and relaxed and healthy.

I’ve decided to move the split hive into a 5-frame nuc for the winter, though. There’s too much empty space around the filled frames (they’re currently living on 4 deep frames hung in a stack of 2 medium boxes), and that’ll be hard to heat in the winter.

One thing I’m learning about beekeeping…timing is everything. Seriously…that “To everything there is a season” thing from the Bible makes more and more sense as I get older.

The Bad News

Posted by liz on

I have good news, and I have bad news, Reader. Let’s go with the bad news first and get it over with. It’s not the worst news in the world, and we all sort of knew it was coming anyway. And better that it came early rather than late. Everyone said it would happen, and they are 100% correct.

First and worst bad news: The August Boatwright hive—the bees we collected from the tree—is a goner. I’m gonna recycle the comb, and I’m gonna recycle the wonderful colony name, but as of yesterday, the bee-tree colony is a thing of the past. But it was a wonderful experience, wasn’t it?

I inspected all the hives yesterday, and when I got to the August Boatwright colony, I discovered no eggs, no brood, no queen, no stores, no pollen, and only a very very few bees. And the comb I collected from the tree was quickly filling with wax moths…it’s like peering into a home that’s been vacated…you know how the thing goes to pot right off the bat without people to care for it…how grass grows where it isn’t welcomed, etc. I’ll go into the reasons for this some other time…for now, all you really need to know is that I dismantled their hive, and I scooted another colony over near the spot previously occupied by the tree bees so the returning bee-tree foragers (if there were any) had a place to call home when they returned.

The second other bad news (which isn’t too bad…see how things are already looking up?): The little swarm I spent an afternoon capturing from our tree last Tuesday absconded. That means that every single one of them flew the coop. They’ve sought greener pastures. I hadn’t yet grown to love these bees. I hadn’t set them on their permanent site. I hadn’t named them. I hadn’t even peeked into their box to see how they were doing. But with no drawn comb and no food and nothing to make the place feel lovely, they left. I would have made it wonderful for them, Reader, but I don’t have any more comb to give them. All my other hives need everything I’ve got, and that late-season swarm had little chance of survival to begin with.

So, that’s all my bad news. Two late-seasoned bee experiences are a bust. I do feel awful about the tree bees. The triple traumas were just tooo much for them: their removal from the tree and their relocation; their getting dumped on the ground when I accidentally turned their box upside down (still cringing when I think of it); and their being robbed of all their nectar and sugar water by other bees who sensed their weakened state.

Tomorrow…I report better news (not earth shattering, just better).

Wax moths on comb collected from the bee tree
Wax moths on comb collected from the bee tree
Wax-moth larva weaving through the comb cells
Wax-moth larva weaving through the comb cells

What I Reclaimed from the Compost Heap

Posted by liz on

I spent some time yesterday setting up the site for the new bee colonies. First, Deb helped me move the remnant of an old wood pile. Then, I had to move the compost heap.

As I was shoveling the compost to its new spot, I uncovered something that promises to work great in the smoker I use to calm the bees. Yep, you guessed it.

Corncobs
Corncobs

I Love the Term "Beeyard"

Posted by liz on

In her very sweet way, Deb has “suggested” that we put no more bee colonies on our little hill.

Last spring we began this adventure with one hive. Then two. One died over the winter. We added two. That made three. We split one into two. That made four. We collected the bees from the tree. That’s five. And now we’ve collected the little swarm. Current count is six.

(You know that only 2 or 3 of these colonies will survive the winter. But then, I plan to capture some swarms in the spring, so the number should continue to grow. If you’re reading this post and you live in Cincinnati and you want to keep some bees at your place, let me know.)

And, although all six colonies are tucked into the woods’ edge, they’re still visible from our house. They’re also visible to any neighbors who drive by, and we don’t want to overtax our neighbors’ generosity in regard to bees. There’s always a breaking point, yes?…I mean, at some point some neighbor will say, “Hey. That may be a one or two too many bee colonies on the block.”

Although I think those colonies are spectacular to look at, and I never get tired of watching the bees dart through the woods and our garden, Deb admits she’d probably prefer gazing into the naked woods without having to see the hives.

So, last night after dinner, we went on a little yard walk to see where we can place the swarm hive and any future hives we might add. We decided on a spot behind the garage near the wood pile. The problem with our new spot, however, is that we’ll have to mow around the hives there. I’m not thrilled about that, but if that’s what it takes to keep a few more colonies around here, we’ll do it.

Maybe we’ll let some ground cover take the place of the grass back there. Or, better yet, maybe we can plant some wildflowers there. That would be awesome.

100% Pure Love and Apology

Posted by liz on

Reader, yesterday I was a clutz.

Yesterday marks an all-time low on the clumsy beekeeper scale, and I still get a little sick thinking about it.

As I was trying to deal with the issue of yellow jackets at site of the August Boatwright hive, I accidently lifted a hive box full of bee upside down and dumped all the frames on the ground. I swear, if bees can feel energy from humans, then they felt from me 100% pure love and apology.

As I worked to put things back together, I talked to the bees—I told them how I hated to keep putting them through such trauma. I told them that I don’t know why the universe had placed them in my care. I told them I was doing my best.

I told them all of this as I lifted the frames one by one and put them back into the box and as I scooped up handfuls of bees and placed them back in their home and as I watched those too scattered about to collect wandering around in the sticks and the grass. Then I figured it was probably best if I just left the scene and let them take care of themselves.

Kill the Yellow Jackets

Posted by liz on

Grrrrr.

I kept seeing all these little yellow jackets as I was feeding the August Boatwright hive yesterday. I squished a lot of them with my hive tool, but they just kept coming, so I investigated. Hundreds of them were coming up from beneath the cinder block on which I’d placed my new bee-tree hive. Shit. Looks like there’s a nest beneath the beehive, and they went straight for the sugar water I fed the bees.

I swear, I’m not sure how to handle this one. The August Boatwright hive isn’t yet back on its own two feet after their removal from the bee tree. They’re still recovering, and their hopes for survival are slim even without this f*cking yellow-jacket invasion…they haven’t yet built up enough bees or the defenses to fight off yellow jackets or other threats.

I immediately reduced the size of the hive entrance—I would move the hive to another spot altogether if I thought they could take another relocation, but I hate to mess with them just as they’re getting their legs back under them.

Treatment for yellow jacket nests? Douse them with gasoline and let the fumes kill them.

Problem with that? Their nest is just beneath the bee colony, so the fumes would kill the bees, too.

JP, my new friend on Beemaster.com, suggested I soak them with hot soapy water—the soap suffocates them. I have to do this at night when all the yellow jackets are in their nest. So, last night I mixed up two five-gallon buckets of hot, soapy water, put on my full-fledged bee suit, stumbled out to the beeyard in the dark, and dumped all the water and soap where I think the nest is.

The sun isn’t yet up this morning, so I can’t assess how this worked. I’ll let you know, though.

Douse the Suckers with Soapy Water
Douse the Suckers with Soapy Water
Nighttime Beekeeper
Nighttime Beekeeper
Good Bye, Yellow Jackets
Good Bye, Yellow Jackets

Bees Are Bumping against the Screens

Posted by liz on

Last night I whipped up today’s sugar water for the bees. It’s sort of a messy process.

I mix a 3:5 water-to-sugar ratio. In other words, I heat 3 cups of water and add 5 cups of granulated sugar to it…actually, I quadruple this recipe. If I had a good place to store the stuff, I’d multiply it even further. We’re going through a hell of a lot of sugar…and, let me tell you, sugar gets everywhere. And then sugar water gets everywhere. And then Deb goes a little nutty with cleaning it all up. I try to clean it, and I think I do a pretty good job of it, but inevitably some sugar finds its way under the coffee maker or in some corner, and we can’t have that. You should see Deb with a sink full of soapy water and a rag. It’s a sight.

What amazes me, though, is that when I mix this stuff during the day with the windows open, bees immediately begin bumping against the screens. And they’re incredibly insistent. After I add the sugar to the water, they will bump against the screen alllll daaaaay looong. Until dark. We can’t even eat on the deck because of them. It’s sort of inspiring…they don’t appear angry, they simply appear determined. I should learn from them.

So now I mix the stuff at night. Then I put about 12-15 bottles of sugar water in big 5 gallon buckets with lids and move it all down to the basement where I store it overnight…trying to fake the bees out.

P.S. My neighbor said my bees were really going for his hummingbird feeders. I’ll bet they are! But I’ll bet the yellow jackets and the bumblebees and the hornets are going for it too these days…we’ve not had any rain, so all the flowers and nectar are dried up. I’ve never seen it so dry.

The End

The Bee Tree Adventure: Conclusion (due to Boredom)

Posted by liz on

Aren’t you getting tired of this? I am. Let’s just cut to the chase. We got the bees home, and the next morning they were crazy busy…and busy loooong before my other bees. The air and the garden and the woods were full of them checking out their new surroundings.

When I went to feed them, they were already festooning like a new swarm. It was delightful to see.

Then we went on vacation.

When we came back, they were less vigorous, though they’d eaten all the sugar water I’d left them.

I fed them again, and though their activity has slowed, there are still new bees orienting out there this afternoon.

I’ll bet they die. Everyone tells me that this rescue was too late in the season for them to have much chance of survival. Which is a major bummer. But we’ll see. I’ll keep you updated.

The End

The End
The End

The Bee Tree Adventure: Part Three

Posted by liz on

Once we had all the comb out of the tree and banded into frames, though, the bees didn’t want to move into their new boxes with their comb. They clung to the tree trunk or flew around aimlessly. I started to look a little aimless myself. I mean, what the heck do you do now? How do you encourage thousands of bees to go into a box? Dave and Kyle sort of looked to me like, “What now?” And I remember saying to them, “I have no idea. I’ve never done this before, you know.” I like that we were all in this together.

We were looking for the queen, of course, but that’s hilarious. I mean, this was not a very stable environment for spotting the queen…and I’m not so great at spotting the queen, anyway…especially if I’m actually looking for her.  So, we started taking handfuls of bees from the tree and putting them into the box. That’s a very very very very cool feeling—to have that many bees vibrating in the palms of your hands. For some reason, I think of it as a very sweet thing that they trust you. Of course, they didn’t stay where I wanted them, though. They flew around instead. I just kept hoping to plop the queen down in the new hive boxes so I could watch the other bees happily following her in there. Didn’t happen.

Fortunately, Dave remembered that we had his neighbor’s home-rigged bee vacuum with us, and Dave had brought a generator with him so we could use the vac in the field. I was so relieved that we had a next-step plan.

Dave started vacuuming bees from the log…the vacuum gently sucks up the bees and then deposits them in a special box built by his neighbor. After only a couple of minutes, we began to see some different behavior from the bees.

It was almost unbelievable…I’m like, “Are those bees all trying to get in the box?”

Suddenly those bees we hadn’t yet vacuumed were going from the log to the box and trying to crawl into a little hole on the side. And, I swear, they started pointing to the hole and fanning their wings as if to say, “She’s in here! Go in here! This is our new home!”

We have no pictures of this. Deb had left us already, and I haven’t yet received a video from Dave including this part. But it happened.