Watershed

For those of you who don't live in Kent (which is the majority of the global population, which is, of course, all reading this blog), you may not know that we've had abysmal weather of late. In fact while I was holidaying in Vienna, winds and rainfall became so strong that most houses around mine lost power and my shed was blown apart. Before that the door, admittedly, was coming to pieces, but it was nothing like it is now.

This used to be a shed

So with the wind doing this, I was slightly apprehensive what might have happened to the hives. I had visions of upended hives, frames scattered about the place and bees somehow half in, half out, dazed, cold and dying in an incorrectly furnished and orientated hive. I really didn't know what to expect. You can imagine my relief when I found both still standing as if gale force winds hadn't taken down the electricity in half of Kent and brought South Eastern Rail to a standstill (ok, that's not such a major feat).

The hives: as happy and unruffled as lunar modules after landing

Shedloads of work

With the foul weather we've been having lately, it came as small surprise that the shed in which I had stored the bee equipment (I had usurped a corner of the shed of the school's gardening club) was not quite as waterproof as one would like it to be. Also, conditions being rather cramped, I was on the lookout for a special shed to keep just the bee equipment in and dry. There is a shed next to the gardening club shed, but this had always been used to store sport equipment. When I heard they were moving out, I bagsied (shot-gunned) the shed and the maintenance department did a splendid job re-roofing, re-flooring and re-windowing it. And now we have our very own bee shed.

Many times have I mentioned the advantages of working in a school environment. Getting the shed is just another example. And for those of you who aren't sick yet of me going on about how great it is to be beekeeping in a school, here's another example: I was on my way to the shed to transfer all the equipment from old to new, when two pupils came to me, asked me whether I was going to the bees and could they join and help me. There are always little helpers around, so a special thanks to JP and Lewfinn for helping to move the bee equipment to the new shed. Without their aid the move would have taken longer and would not have been as fun as it was.

Sealed with celotex

My niece being here, I decided that today I would insulate the hives for the cold months ahead and clad them with celotex. As two hands are not nearly enough for this, I was counting on Natalie to help me. It should have been a simple operation, as by now the bees should have all be inside the hive, clustered and keeping warm. However, as I have remarked previously, things with animals don't necessarily turn out as you expect them to.

Going to the hives with a pile of celotex

Anyway, to start at the beginning: we made our way to the hives, with a pile of celotex, straps to tie them tight and a saw for last minute fitting issues. Natalie had a beesuit on, but I thought I could do without, as there wouldn't be any bees flying around, would there?

Insulating the roof

When I got to the Moon, I realised the mouse guard had slipped. I don't know when this happened, possibly on Monday during the storm, possibly earlier. I haven't been to the hives for a fortnight, so anything is possible, really. When I fixed it, a host of bees immediately shot out from the hive, looking for trouble. Natalie ran away screaming, despite wearing a beesuit, and my sister (who took the photos) was stung almost immediately. It was at this moment that I decided to don a beesuit as the Moon colony was more active than it should have been.

Resizing celotex

After that initial shock, it was more or less plain sailing: I removed the contact feeder, left the eke and put celotex in that, as roof insulation. As those slabs were too large, I had to engage in some last minute DIY, sawing them down to size.

Natalie holding the celotex while I tie it down

Then with Natalie's help, I strapped four slabs of celotex to the hive walls.

Last slab of four

I did the same for the Star, where the bees were much calmer to not being active at all. The only thing I noticed is that their contact feeder was still pretty full, which may have to do with the syrup having crystallised against the mesh of the contact feeder. Am now worried whether they have enough winter supplies.

Two hives snugly wrapped up in space-age insulation

Somehow have the fear that come spring I won't have a sinlge colony - both having fallen victim to bad winter management.

Catching the winter cold

With winter drawing closer it's time to do some DIY again. Thing is, I'd like to insulate the hives over winter by wrapping them up (not literally, in whatever way you want to use that word now) in celotex. Although no bee book I have looked into so far recommends it, I read a newsletter in one of the beekeeping magazines I now receive which told of positive experiences with insulating the hives in winter. This makes sense to me. Most of the time the bees die because, although they have sufficient food, it is too cold for them to break cluster. So, if they're insulated, they can; besides, they should not need as much food, as they do not need as much energy to keep themselves warm.
With apparently so many advantages it is strange that not more beekeepers are celotexing their hives. I hope I don't find out why not in spring...
Luckily the school - a Victorian mansion that needs constant loving attention from our handymen - has scraps of celotex. So I nabbed these and cut them to size.

When to put them on the hives? I have no clue, but anytime now. As it's half term I'll do this without the pupils, but my niece is coming, so I'll wait for her. I'm sure she'll be excited to help and then see photos of herself on the web.

Beesuit becomes boilersuit

Slipped guard

Having discovered that the mouse guard in the Star was not doing its job properly, I decided to repair it today. I had taken it off so that the bees could access their hive freely again (and just hope that no mouse decided to set up camp in the Star last night).

It was a beautiful, sunny day, but rather chill and there were only one or two bees flying round the Star. They might have got the message that winter is now definitely approaching and they need to sort out their stores.
Anyway, armed with various screws and a screwdriver, I went to the Star and repaired the mouse guard. Sounds rather grand that: it was basically a case of putting in a screw that would support the guard - and done. A bee did come to have a look and landed on my arm as I was twisting the screw in. I think she approved.

Repairing the mouse guard

Preparing for winter

Have not been posting the past few weeks, as not much has happened.

Well, that's not quite true: the school was inspected and the bees had to yield before the exigencies of such academic spirallings. I do try and put the bees first in all, but last week was so intense that I really had little time for the little ones.

Nevertheless, I have been cooking up lots of syrup (my 1.5l bottle count is now up to 7 in an attempt to keep up with the speed the bees are taking the syrup down into the hives). Have also learnt how to handle the contact feeders and have a little bowl to catch the surplus when I turn them around. Amazing how beekeeping equipment just proliferates. My guess is the Moon is full up and the Star is also doing well. Bees are still collecting pollen though - no signs of any winter quiet or calm yet.

One thing that bothers me with the contact feeders is that whenever I replenish them, a number of bees are trapped in the ekes and die there. Is there no way to prevent this? I know, remove the wood covering one hole in the crownboard, but then my busy bees would start doing silly things in the eke. Not sure what else to do. It does pain me to trap a few, knowing they face certain starvation.

Combined feeder and deathtrap

Also put the varroa boards in, but left them in so long that the results are lots of muck, fuzz and bits and bobs and no way to count dropped mites. Not sure I will count them this year. There are still mites parachuting down, so will treat the hives with oxalic acid and then start afresh with the new season. While that makes me feel like a rotten beekeeper, there's really not that much I could do now. I guess part of beekeeping is taking decisions of what to do and what not to do - despite what the books say. Hmmm... Hope all goes well. Whenever I stray from the path of libral wisdom, I feel all my bees will die over the winter.

When going to check on feeders and see what hefting the hive was like (it told me nothing, but the hives seemed heavy), I discovered that the mouseguard on the Star had slipped, effectively blocking the entrance and making it impossible for bees to enter or exit. Will have to fix that tomorrow. Opened the guard and the bees very happily clustered around the entrance and seemed glad that the building works were over and their main thoroughfare free again.
Didn't even get stung. That's true gratefulness!

Winter feeding

Returned to the hives yesterday to do a bit of housekeeping in my beekeeping and to set up the contact feeders.
Emptied the wasp trap and refilled and re-primed it. As soon as I put it down, wasps already started flying in. Have decided to put up a second one. Not that I fear too much for my bees: the entrances to the hives are easy to defend and all food is internal now. But I'd rather not risk it.
Removed the emptied super and frames from the Star and noticed that wasps had been chewing the wax away. Hate wasps even more now. Some of the frames have holes in them. Live and learn, I guess. Next year the Star will start with a disadvantage again,a s the bees will have to build up comb first. Hmmm....
Filled both contact feeders full. Or relatively full. The way the contact feeder works is that you fill it full, then tip it upside down and the syrup doesn't flow out through the gauze, because of the partial vacuum that's created. So the theory goes. Of course, when I turned round the feeders, a huge flow gushed out over the bees, hive, crown board - everything. Same when I tried it for the Star, only this time I held it over the ground, not the hive. The feeder still dripped for quite some time, though. Sure that I had done something wrong, I looked it up and sure enough: I should have filled the contact feeders to the very brim and then turned them around over a bucket, before putting them on the hive.
But I love the idea of 'putting' things on the hive. As if that were so easy. With me there are always hundreds of bees in the way...
One day I may learn.

Try putting anything on that!

Star stores

Yesterday (Friday) was the final day of the Star's Apiguard treatment, so I decided to combine the removal of the medication with an inspection of winter stores. Armed with three pupils (who proved to be competent photographers and record keepers, unlike the last batch, whose skills at the latter were dubious) and a walkie-talkie, we made out way to the hives.
The first little bit of excitement was when one of the pupils informed me he had a spider scuttling in front of his eyes - on the inside of his veil. Obviously, he couldn't take the veil off, so he resorted to that most primeval of human instincts and squashed the critter.
The wasp situation was bad. The trap was so full of wasps, they weren't able to drown in the water. I didn't want to change that with the pupils around, so left it like that for the moment.

Star stores

The star hive were a docile lot. There's a lot of bees in the hive, but not an excessive amount. The inspection was a real joy, actually, the bees keeping to themselves, not getting in the way - and none stinging! The only interruption to the calm lifting of the frames, checking, calling out amount of stores and replacing was the occasional wasp I couldn't help squishing in aid of my little workers.

The star queen with drone and workers

The star has quite a few stores, but not all short frames have comb on them (a result of my drone trapping). We saw the queen. You can see her on the photo with the yellow dot. The other seemingly huge bee on the photo is a drone, which is much larger than the worker bees. The colony is still rearing brood, as we saw a number of capped brood cells as well as larvae. So things are looking good in the Star, basically. Will have to do a varroa count to see if and how the medication worked.
Having checked the stores, I took out the super, which the bees, despite it being on the crown board, were not emptying (Moon and Star seem to have similar ideas about what is a part of the hive and what isn't) and placed it on the roof. Once again, not ideal, because of wasps &c, but that way the supers get cleared ready for storage.

A quiet Star

Also removed the last frames from the Moon and brought it down to just brood box level ready for feeding on Saturday.

Clearing the super frames

Empty comb

Got 'em

All people with sensitive stomachs might want to skip this post. Indeed, I am not proud of what I am going to write. This is exacerbated by the fact that I'm currently also teaching Hinduism, where I tell the children all life is sacred. And while I am not a Hindu, it is hard to argue with such great philosophy/theology that has such resonance, but anyway....
Checked the wasp trap today and (why should I feign remorse or nonchalance?) - yay! - it finally had a load of wasps in it. I can explain my exultation only in the light of the fact that I view the bees as my pets and friends and helpers and the wasps as their, and therefore also my, enemies. So the fewer of them, the better.
It seems the jam needs to ferment a few days before it is potent enough to lure the wasps. But then, what  a job it did.

Wasps jam packed in the trap

But my shame goes deeper. This evening when I went to put the emptied super frame from the top of the hive away for storage, there were five wasps idling on the roof. With five quick bangs I had killed them all with the top bar of the frame. It could have been worse, I suppose. I could have killed them all with one blow and then had a belt made with 'Five at one blow' inscribed upon it. But as I am neither valiant, nor a tailor, I didn't.

Bees super busy

Bees still busy in the super

Wanted to start feeding the bees on Monday, so they could store enough for the winter, but the silly billies are still storing nectar and pollen in the supers. While it's great that they are still foraging quite nicely, I do feel they might have got the hint and stopped storing in the supers. The hint is what every beekeeping book tells me that bees instinctively realise: everything above the crown board is not the hive and therefore forage and free for all. Now, despite my super being above the crown board, my little loony bees have decided this is still their hive and are using it for storage. So much for the bee books. I should leave them in the hive over winter so the bees can read in them how to behave.

Beautifully multi-coloured pollen

But the problem remains: how do I get the supers cleared quickly so I can start feeding? As the bees obviously won't listen to me (and I don't really know how to communicate with them), I decided a different approach.
Using a spare super, I placed those frames with only few stores in them in that and left it on top of the Moon hive, exposed to elements and wasps. Yes, I know. This was an open invitation to all wasps in the area to help themselves. My reckoning was though that the workforce in the Moon would be big enough to clear most of the supers and the wasps would not get that much.

Frames ready to be emptied and then stored

And sure enough - within a day the bees had cleared the five or so frames and I was able to put those away for storage. Buoyed by that success, I am now taking a super frame or two out a day and putting it on top of the hive. The bees will collect the stores from there and store them wherever. Even if they store the food in the supers, it won't matter, as eventually all frames will be removed and then the bees will have to store it in the brood box. Mission accomplished (hopefully). But I'm sure there must be easier ways of getting the bees to store their forage in the brood box come autumn.
Currently I have five frames left in the super and hope to have those cleared by Saturday, so I can start feeding then.

Concerning storage, I asked our maintenance team to make me two plywood planks of 460x460. These I have put underneath and above the super holding the empty frames and thus have a hopefully quite tight and secure way of storing the super frames for next year.

An invitation to any passing wasp

Honey for auction

This year's honey crop was not awe-inspiring, but very decent, considering it came only from the Moon. In the end I had 20 jars to sell after having ear-marked a few to give to the headmaster, bursar and the parents who, with their generous donations, had made the whole project possible. Having sold a few at a premium price (after all, it is all for the benefit of the bees), I decided to auction the rest. This proved an inspired move as this way more money came in than I could ever have made by selling them at a set price. As soon as parents realised the money from the sale of the honey would go exclusively to the bees and that the bees were entirely self-sufficient and not funded by the school, the bids started coming in thick, high and fast.
Being able to draw on the enthusiasm (and purse strings) of parents is another good thing about working in a school environment. Thus the future of the bees at the school seems secure.

Labels

Received the proofs of the labels today. While they are not quite what I expected, I think they look good enough as a first batch. Am giving nothing away though prior to the sale of the first 20 jars on the 21st September at the school's Autumn Fayre.

Wasp trap

The current tally is as follows:
Boddingtons: 3 wasps
Beck's: 0 wasps
Cheap strawberry jam with water: 1 wasp

There are plenty of wasps about - what'll lure them into the trap? Am open to suggestions. Web has no brighter ideas than those already tried.
Someone suggested a Stella. Might give that a go on Monday. Perhaps I have discerning wasps...

Educational video

This is the video the children took. What I love about it, it captures the moment I loved best of the whole hive inspection: when I had put the hive back together and was about to put the roof on you could hear the contented buzz of all the bees resonating through the hive: an awesome sound, captured on video by a pure luck.

Winter stores

The children all came back to school today, on a gloriously sunny day. Winter stores sounds slightly out-of-place, but with the foraging force decreasing, it is time to check how much the bees have stored up for the cold season. Originally I wanted to inspect the Moon hive tomorrow, but as the forecast for Friday was rain non-stop, I decided to do it today. Once again it was no difficulty finding volunteers: the bees are as popular as ever with the pupils. So the three pupils and I all kitted up in the burning sun.

I've talked a lot about the advantages of beekeeping in a school environment - and they are many. But today I discovered a disadvantage. A beesuit is hot. Handling the bees in a way that will not antagonise or squash them requires care and concentration, which produces heat. In summer I regularly sweat so that it drips through the veil (sorry if that is slightly unsavoury) and a hive inspection can turn a light blue shirt dark blue. Having to teach after having just done a hive inspection, as happened today, is not comfortable.

But back to the Moon.

The super was still busy with activity and the bees haven't cleared out their honey stores from there yet. Will have to force them to soon. Quite how I do that is anyone's guess. Hopefully taking all frames out and leaving them with only one at a time will induce them to store in the brood chamber. Because there is space still in the brood chamber.

Showing two capped honey cells to a pupil

Anyway, opened the brood box and decidedly fewer bees were in there, so the colony does seem to be cutting back. In fact I could find no eggs or larvae (should I worry about that?), although there was still some capped brood. Didn't see the queen either.

A much quieter hive

We did see plenty of honey stores, though and some wasps trying to nab some honey.

Propolis, propolis, propolis and some bees

The pupils were hugely interested in all that was going on and asked lots of questions. One girl kept trying to get a bee to land on her hand, but none would play ball. The children wanted to know about drones and what they do (influenced by modern warfare, they originally thought the drones were the guard bees) as well as how long the bees live and how they spend their days. It was a shame we didn't see the queen. They would have loved that. I did tell them though that she had clipped wings and they couldn't quite fathom how you do that with an insect. Although I know how, I'm not sure I could do it.

Another drawback (if that): I asked one pupil to keep a tally of the food stores on the frames. Apart from not getting the numbers right, his scrawlings are not easy to decipher. In such cases always blame the teacher - so I guess my instructions should have been clearer.

Who can decipher this? And make it add up to 10 frames?

What I did gather, though, is that the Moon has quite a lot of stores, but on most frames still space to store more. After I have solved the super problem I will start feeding them, although it sounds slightly unseasonal in this unseasonal Indian summer.
In fact the bees are still busy collecting pollen and, I assume, nectar.

Lots of activity at the entrance to the Moon

In the star I changed the medication, so they received their second dose of Apiguard. Hive much more quiet. Am worried about the Star. Might have to put the two colonies together over winter.

Didn't get stung once, though there were wasps in the area and air (more about the wasp trap later), which is good.

But let's end on a positive: I let the children take the photos and they did that really well. Inadvertently they even made a video, which is actually quite fun and fascinating to watch.

Baptism with B

After today I feel even more like a beekeeper, although I haven't controlled a single swarm yet. Somehow, every beekeeper I come across, who's written an article or held a talk, always has a photo of him (invariably a he, testimony to the slighter brain of males) with a swollen lip where a bee stung him. These are used as cautionary tales, but I always feel with a certain sense of pride at having been tough enough to survive such an ordeal.

Well....

Not a wasp's favourite

Perhaps better

Today, in my bid to find out what kind of beer the wasps will go for (there were of course none in the trap when I checked the next day; wasps don't seem to relish la bonne maman marmelade watered down) I checked the trap again, after having filled it with Boddingtons the day before.

A wasp unsure where to go, although it's not far

Even then, I had the feeling the wasps were making fun of me, as they were everywhere except by the surely sweet-smelling ale. Today, despite there being a large number of wasps flitting around the hives, only three had ventured into the traps to their doom. So, school kitchens being cornucopia (though not usually filled with alcohol), I nabbed a Beck's to see whether the wasps preferred that.
I don't know yet.

What I do know, though, is that as I was watching the wasps, willing them to fly into the trap, a bee left the Star at terrific speed, collided with my face, just above the lip, and stung.

Consequently, I am now sporting a very unmasculine semi-trout-pout, but have the requisite photo for any future beekeeping sessions.

Fortifications

This is the time of year when the queen should start laying less, the number of bees in the colony shrinks and they no longer can collect much honey. So, the perfect time for unwanted intruders and marauders to damage the bees. There have been a number of wasps around and they obviously mean no good whatsoever. So, in an attempt to help the bees protect themselves, I have set up a wasp trap.

The basic trap design

The trap in place by the hives

It's a very simple, but ingenious design: you cut off the top of a 2 litre PET soft drink bottle and turn it upside down so you have a funnel going in, but only a small hole, counter-funnelled, to get out - far too challenging for the average wasp brain (even newts, who are surely higher creatures on the evolutionary scale, fail this basic feat of escapology). To entice the wasps in (and sweeten their death, I suppose), you put jam and water at the bottom of the bottle. This should attract wasps, but not bees. We'll see what the trap holds when next I look.
Probably nothing...

The other measure I took was to install mouse-guards over the hive entrances. With the onset of winter (which we are still far away from, I know), mice start looking for cosy holes, and bee hives seem to be just the ticket. These metal guards prevent the mice entering. As an added bonus, they also make the colony easier to guard, so the bees should give any potential wasp marauders a good stinging run for her money.

Mouse-guard in place

Jarred

My carton full of very fetching hexagonal 1/2 lb (or 227g) glasses was starting to look wistful and seemingly wanted some form of fulfilment. Having put the jars through a dishwasher in the morning - thanks, Merrill! - I therefore decided to jar the honey toady.

So down to school it was. When I arrived in the kitchen, armed with a variety of tubs to catch any honey spillage, I noticed to my horror that the settling tub had a leak and a pool of honey had slowly and stickily spread across the work surface. Had obviously not screwed the bung in tightly enough when assembling it. Drat. Half a glass of honey gone that way.
So started the jarring with cleaning up. 

The filling itself was easy enough. There was scarcely any bubble-scum on the surface, but I did leave it slightly too late to cream it off, so a lot of jars have a bit of bubbly in them. To be honest, I really like that creamy froth on the top and always looked forward to opening a new jar to get that. Next time I know to cream it off immediately (and save it for myself!). The last two jars were admittedly a bit muckier (no insect legs, though), but good enough for me.

The honey harvest

Cleaning up afterwards was a doddle again and I am falling in love with the power shower tap.

All in all the bees produced 25 jars, so just over 12 lb, which I think is not bad at all, all things considered. Am very pleased. Now I'm just waiting for the labels, which I designed and ordered last night, to arrive.

Honey harvest

With the honey extractor in school and all else prepared, today was finally the day to spin out the honey.
In the morning I quickly (and luckily - as will be seen later) read up a bit more about what to expect and then donned old gardening clothes (in the expectation of being covered in honey and unwilling to sacrifice decent clothes for this) and packed my capping board, a towel, the plastic tubs, a bread knife and a feather. Yes - a feather. This in fact turned out to be the most important piece of equipment of the day.

The tool of the day

A book had said if the super still has some bees in it, then you can remove the frames singly and brush the bees off with a feather; if you do this some distance from the hive, they will just fly back to their hive. Hence the feather.
The more perceptive among you already know what's coming.
The Moon super was of course not empty of bees, but still had a sizeable population crawling around in it. So, I threw the towel over the top (rather than in) and wrapped it around, ensuring it was tight so no more bees could get in (the chances of the ones already there leaving of their own accord was minimal), and brought it to the waiting car. I then removed the one-way doors (also known as porter bee escapes) from the crown board (the hive's roof), took out the queen excluder and left the Moon to itself.

Back to the super wrapped in a beach towel by the car.
This was some way from the hive and I thought (beesuit still on), that I would tickle the bees out of the super. I think as many flew back into the super as I flicked out. No question of them blithely flying back to their hive - they were in the super for good. Wrapping the present up again tightly, I put it in the boot and drove it to the school kitchen entrance. Here, having put the super on the floor, I attempted once again to coax the bees out of the super. Having no wellies on anymore I was slightly worried at the number of bees buzzing around my ankles and moved the super to an outside table. By this time some wasps were interested too.
The bees being as unwilling to move out of the super as squatters who have just found the ideal premises, I resorted to taking the frames out, one at a time, brushing them free of bees and carrying them singly to the kitchen, all the while ensuring that I had no followers. I really pitied the bees. There was I blatantly daylight robbing them of their honey and they never followed me, but just buzzed around the super. None attacked me, although they always showed a keen interest when I returned to steal another frame.

Finally I had everything as I needed it: extractor on the floor in the kitchen, capping bowl and board in place, next to it a tub of cold water to wash my hands, the empty super to take the frames once spun out and a settling tub with the frames in for the time being.

With some trepidation I took the first frame - not a full one - and tentatively sawed away at the capping with the bread knife. Soon I got the hang of it, though I think I cut too low down quite often and thus condemned a lot of honey to the capping bowl rather than to the extractor. Surprisingly, when uncapped, the honey did not start flowing in silly amounts. In fact, it hardly dripped at all and I was able to load the extractor with four frames with hardly any drips, drops or sticky spots appearing anywhere.

Uncapping the honey stores

When the frames were in the extractor, it was time to give it a spin. After a few turns one way, you turn the frames round and then spin again. This, apparently, is to prevent the honey for the inside breaking through to the outside. After four spins (sounds like a washing-machine) and a jolly waltz of the extractor around the kitchen, despite me wedging it between my feet and knees, the honey was out.

Waltzing Mathilda

The uncapping was the messiest stage and I often had to lick my fingers clean of honey. That was the good part. The honey is really delicious: a dark gold and quite runny with a sweet but quite clovery taste to it (I'm sorry, I'm not a honey gourmet, so can't describe the taste in all the floral language I'm sure professional honey-tasters use; I also have practically no clue what different types of honey taste like, so couldn't even say what's gone into the mix). And while uncapping, you can have little bits of wax with it, so it feels like the fresh honeycomb honey. Well, it is fresh honeycomb honey, I suppose.

Putting the empty frame into the empty super

After all eleven frames had been spun out, I realised that most of the weight on the frames was actually the wax, not the honey. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that I had collected some honey. This was dripping from the main extraction chamber through a sieve to a settling tub. As I had hired the extractor for two days only, I had to unsettle the honey from that settling tank to my own, final settling tub.

The first look into the tub after the extraction had finished was very exciting as I had no clue how much honey there would be. With all due mathematical precision, I'd say it's a fair amount. To think that just one hive that was building up its strength this year collected that much honey in a shortened season is amazing. I am very proud of my Moon bees and have forgiven them all their propolising ways.
Well, I actually already did that yesterday, when I did the varroa counts.

Only thing left to do was to fill the honey from the metal settling tub into the plastic one. This was the moment various people who were in school for various reasons chose to show up and taste a bit of honey. Talk about honey thieves. They were all very excited and enthusiastic about the honey. That's the good thing about a school environment, too: you'll always have someone milling around, who you can talk to or who will (hopefully) appreciate what you're doing. There were even some pupils around who were very excited about the honey.

From sieve to settling tank to settling tub

The clearing up at the end is what most people warn you about. But, to be quite honest, there was very little honey drippage, so work surfaces were mostly clean. Being in a school kitchen it was no problem to find sinks large enough to accommodate the extractor and tank and - I loved this part - the school kitchen also has a great shower-head-type contraption, where the cold water comes out at high pressure! Ideal for cleaning all the metal tank, because cold water is all you need (so easy the washing up, really).

Fours hours later, after all was done, washed and stored I packed my things into the car again. Some bees were still buzzing around where I first put the super down, the poor things. The honey is gone, gone, gone (for them....).

Together with some pupils, who were eager to learn more about the honey extraction process, I returned the super with the wet frames to the Moon so that the bees can clean it out. Gives them a bit of honey and me clean supers ready for next year.

In a way it's been a long day. Am very pleased that everything (except for the beginning) went so smoothly (and even that obstacle was surmounted). Feel just a little more like a beekeeper now.
In school the other teachers there congratulated me on the honey and I kept thinking, none of this is my work. You should be thanking the bees. So a big thank you to the bees from Moon - they are stars! I am very very proud of them.

Medication...

Folllowing yesterday's varroa count and the distressing results for Star, I put some Apiguard in today. This is a chemical that should kill the varroa to a level that is manageable. The bees then get a second helping of chemicals in January and that should hopefully solve the varroa problem for the time being.

Apiguard applied directly to the brood frames

Am still upset that the Star is suffering so much.
Left them their supers, as they have practically no honey in them anyway. Hopefully they'll clear those out soon.

Varroa count

Today I collected a honey extractor and settling tub for the honey harvest tomorrow. I have set up in the school kitchen: another advantage of beekeeping in a school is the kitchen is on an industrial scale so the sinks are large enough to fit in and be able to wash the extractor, sieve and tub. Had I had to do this at home I would have despaired (or used a hose). The kitchen also has plenty of tables and work surfaces and is designed to be besplattered with food, so my honey harvesting in there should really be ideal.

Am only harvesting from the Moon, as Star doesn't even have one side of a frame full of sealed honey.
And finally I may know the reason.

Took out the varroa boards today (a detailed breakdown of the mite drop is below) and thank God I had divided them up into ocean squares otherwise I would have had a terrible time counting. After 13 days there are quite a lot of varroa crabbing about on the floor (yes, some of the ilk were waving their arms around). The Star hive is badly - really badly - infested and I will start treatment tomorrow. They have five times as many varroa as the Moon, which is really doing well and shouldn't need treatment at all. With two hives that close together where drift is certain to occur, this is interesting to say the least.

Mite drop statistic for Moon (13 days)

Mite drop statistic for Star (13 days)

Without having a single clue, my guess is the Moon bees' propensity to propolise everything (they are expert gluers) might have something to do with it. Star does not propolise half as much as Moon does. The varroa count is all the more astonishing as I have done more drone trapping in the Star than the Moon, so there should theoretically be fewer varroa mites in the Star.

Am now already a few steps ahead and thinking of re-queening the Star with the next Moon queen next year.  

DIY capping board

As hinted yesterday, I did a little DIY job today - just some bits of wood screwed together. To be able to uncap the honey without creating too much of a mess, you do it over a tub. As the honey is in frames, this can get awkward cutting and supporting and so on, so you put a board across the tub and rest the frame on that, tip it so it's over the tub and cut the caps off.
So far so good. Books suggest making a hole in the wood so you can put the lug of the frame in that, to prevent the frame from slipping while you cut (everything will be covered in honey, remember). But I don't have the tools to make circular holes in planks of wood very easily. So my idea was to screw a lid upside down to the board, which should have the same function. I didn't want the lid to be too big so I spent some minutes scanning all the glasses in the supermarket till I found this one.
French Dijon mustard.

My uncapping tub with board.

Buried in Books

Not the bees! No, like the pupils I so often teach, I am now leafing through books, learning, doing my revision - what ever you want to call it. The test I have coming up is honey extraction. As I want to do it as right as possible, I thought I'd do some reading up, so as not to be caught unawares (as so often lately).

A selection of B..books - not that I've read them all.

Lucky I did, because it seems I will need to do some DIY tomorrow. I also need to buy some plastic tubs (for mopping away the honey that will be everywhere, apparently). Am also planning to phone around tomorrow to beg, steal or borrow a honey extractor, as the honey must be jarred this week.
Am quite excited and suitably nervous.

Will keep you posted - literally.

Super inspection

Inspected the hives yesterday after my ten days away.

In the past whenever I've been to inspect the bees, I've always done a full hive inspection, lifting out each frame - much to the annoyance of the bees who are trying so hard to gunk everything together with bracecomb and propolis. As I was driving to school (the joy of going to school during the holidays!) I thought that the only reason I'm doing a full hive inspection, really, is so that I've done a full hive inspection. There's no real reason to do it: the bees aren't going to swarm, the queen is fine and if there are plenty of bees, then everything should be ok. I don't want my beekeeping to become too invasive, as I'm sure the bees basically know what to do and don't need me telling them (not that I can waggle-dance).
So, in a break with tradition I thought this time I'd only look at what really interested me: the honey crop in the supers. Thought this 'inspection light' might make my bees happier, too.

As I wouldn't be in the brood chamber, I thought I'd try leather gloves again, just to see if they're really that bad. They are. Could hardly lift a frame out with them on.

Smoker went brilliantly (I had had some difficulties with it in the past) and the bees were well-behaved, really.

Moon has a super nearly full (so that means some honey!). There's still space on the outward frames and not all honey is capped yet. Hope they can do that till next week, when I have to take the honey off. Weather looks ok for that. The Moon hive was not nearly as busy as last time, so I assume the queen has reduced her laying a bit.

Star is not doing much with the supers. Instead of focusing on a few frames and getting those done properly, the bees are drawing out comb on most frames, but always only on one side. I'm sure that wind, the earth's magnetic field or moisture have something to do with this orientation, but it's weird. There'll be no honey from Star, I fear. My poor Star-struck bees. Sometimes I think a task-force from the Moon might help them sort themselves out.

What was interesting, was that throughout my inspection quite a number of wasps buzzed about the place, making a general nuisance of themselves. At one time I saw a bee and wasp locked in close combat on the ground. Unfortunately the wasp got away, as did the bee, fortunately (lovely chiasmus, there; can't get the English teacher out of me). Because of this, the bees flying around were a lot more aggressive and ready to sting. My clothing was stung a number of times, but the fascinating thing was that most of the bees went for the little bee emblem a friend of mine had made me and sewn onto the suit. They couldn't sting that, though, as the wool was too high for them to get a purchase on the suit (and skin!) beneath, which was lucky for all involved.
Some enormous, mutant killer hornet, they must have thought.

The bees' sworn enemy - with apologies for the lack of focus.