You Can’t Squeeze Blood from a Turnip

Posted by liz on

 

Reader, I cannot tell you how often people want to know how many pounds of honey they’ll get from their hive.

Some folks seem to believe that the sheer fact that there are bees means there will be honey. And lots of it. Which is true only so long as there are flowers.

It’s unfair to expect bees to deliver honey for us if we insist on keeping our dull and boring yards weed free and closely mown. Let it go a little bit. Let our lives rewild.

Here’s the bottom line, my dear Reader: Bees can make honey only only only only if bees have access to flowers. The End. The more flowers, the more honey. And I’m talking about wild, native flowers. NOT KNOCKOUT ROSES. NOT DAYLILIES. Not those fancy flowers you pick up at the garden center. Bees need bonafide native wildflowers. And herbs. And vegetable gardens.

Bees need those wonderfully wild things that grow naturally in fence rows and in acres of fallow fields. And if you don’t have a fence row or a fallow field, then perhaps you can create a little pocket of crazy wildflowers wherever you are. See, bees need A LOT of flowers, and if we all plant a little, that equals A LOT. This is true of everything. Which is completely cool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Glory of Single-Hive Honey

Posted by liz on

What makes TwoHoneys honey different from almost any (even any local) honey you can find? The answer, dear Reader, is single-hive honey. Let me explain.

  1. When you purchase your honey from the grocery store, you’re probably buying honey shipped in from other countries. That honey is combined with all the other honeys and heated and filtered beyond description in huge vats. Then it’s filtered again and bottled and shipped again and again and again and yada yada you eventually you eat it. And it all tastes the same. And all the good stuff is long gone. The end.
  2. When you purchase your honey from a local beekeeper (and this is indeed a wonderful first step!), you’re purchasing honey gathered from trees and flowers in your own neighborhood. This is healthy and excellent. However, it’s probably NOT single-hive honey. The beekeeper from whom you buy your local honey probably combines all of the frames from many of the hives and runs them all together through a machine we call an “extractor.” This extractor acts as a centrifuge and slings all the honey from all those frames into a common tub. Then, your local beekeeper bottles all that combined honey in jars. You buy it and eat it. But all the honey from all the frames is all combined, so it loses much of its distinct flavor.
  3. When you purchase TwoHoneys honey (you can get some at Coffee Please in Madeira!), you experience the glory of single-hive (and, frankly, it’s really single-frame) honey. In other words, I cut the honey-containing comb from its frame or bar, and I squeeze that honeycomb with a machine called my hand so that the honey from a single frame runs directly through a sieve and into a small bowl. I then immediately pour that honey into a jar. It’s that simple, pure honey that you eat and marvel about.

This is what makes single-frame honey unique: The honey in each frame tastes like whatever was blooming when the bees stored it. For instance, if goldenrod and asters were blooming when the bees stored nectar in that particular frame, then the honey harvested with that frame will taste like goldenrod or aster. Each frame tastes unique to whatever was blooming. The TwoHoneys honey you purchase tastes unique to whatever was blooming where that hive lives that season that year. It’s always a wonderful experience because YOU CAN TASTE THE DIFFERENCE.

We can’t always identify the flower we taste in the honey, but we can certainly taste the uniqueness.

And, like wine, the honey from that hive this year will taste different from the honey from that hive next year. Because the weather differs and different flowers bloom in different strengths. This year, clover bloomed for a long long time. And Queen Anne’s Lace was prolific in the wild countrysides. And right now, the goldenrod is yellowing the universe. So, the early honey we bottled tastes like clover. The mid-season honey like Queen Anne’s Lace, and the dark fall honey like deep-yellow goldenrod. And, Reader, these flowers taste different. And you can experience it.

 

Clover
Queen Anne's Lace
Goldenrod

 

 

 

Whatever Goes in Your Yard Goes in Your Honey Goes in You

Posted by liz on with 1 Comment

The Scott’s lawn service truck just pulled up to my across-the-street neighbor’s house, and now the guy is out spraying chemicals on the grass. Deb calls them the honey-bee eliminators. Friends—pesticides and herbicides are bad for bees; and they’re bad for your honey. Whatever goes in your yard goes in your honey goes in you. How hard is this to understand? Let’s keep it raw and sweet. Dandelions and clover are very very good.

Live Blogging from Bee School

Posted by liz on with 1 Comment

Sometimes I dread these things because I think I’ll get bored. But if I blog about this as I go, I might like it more.

There’s honey everywhere.

9:11 am

This guy, John Tew, PhD—from Ohio State University—said I should attend the Hive Management I and II sessions. He’s our Ohio bee guru, so, that’s why I’m sitting right now in Hive Management I.

9:21 am

We’re talking about varroa mites and lost colonies and the beginning beekeepers’ steep learning curve. Apparently I’m gonna lose a few hives before I figure out all these patterns. Good thing I like spotting patterns.

9:28 am

I need new glasses. I can’t see for shit from where I stand near the back of the room.

9:50 am

There’s a young woman sitting next to me. I’d say she’s 15 or 16 years old. That’s cool. Mostly, there are guys in Carhart and Farm Bureau caps, but there are a lot of lesbians here, too. The lesbians take notes as if their lives depend on it. Crazy lesbians. I wish I could get one to pose for you with her notebook and pen. That would be funny.

10:02 am

Remember: Dandilions are good..it’s the first source of the season that supplies both pollen and nectar. The hive just explodes when those little yellow flowers bloom.

Clover, too.

Too bad I’ve spent so much time and money trying to eradicate all those flowers-otherwise-known-as-weeds that are just perfect for bees. Who are the bozos telling us to destroy everything but grass? And why do we listen to that bullshit? What’s wrong with us?!

10:09 am

The ONLY job I have with a new colony is to get the bees through their first winter. Feed them until they won’t eat any more. Year One is not sexy.

10:52 am

Getting a little bored because this second session is a too theoretical for me this year. I want only practical stuff right now.

I’ve seen a couple of people I know.

11:06 am

The guy sitting next to me wears argyle socks. He’s sort of out of place here, don’t you think?

12:08 pm

We’re eating lunch. Here’s my friend Jim.

12:35 pm

Now I’m attending “Getting Started Installing Bees,” but this guy’s talking about his kids. What a bore. This place is packed. All kinds of people.

12:53 pm

I had to leave that session. They should ask me to facilitate a breakout session next year. I can sure as hell do it, and I guarantee you people wouldn’t slip out like I just did. Problem is, I don’t know anything yet. Well, that shouldn’t stop me. I think I’d call my breakout thingy “Things You REALLY Need to Know to Get Started, and I’m Not Blowing Smoke.”

Anyway, it’s pretty outside, so I’m gonna go get some air and sunshine.

1:33 pm

One session to go, and if this guy’s no good, I’m hitting the road. I’m dying for a a diet Coke. I’m also dying for a bike ride.

1:38 pm

I’ve seen only one African American here. Otherwise, we’re all caucasian. Three hundred ninety nine caucasians and one black person. Something’s wrong here.

And, as usual, I did not win a door prize. Shit.

2:08 pm

Nap time. I’m getting soooo drowsy. This always happens to me at 2:00 pm when I’m in meetings. I’m still trying to listen, but my eyes are closed. Someone should turn a hive of bees loose in here and wake us all up.

2:39 pm

Signing off from Bee School.