Acid rain

With the cold weather the queen should have stopped laying altogether, or drastically reduced the eggs laid per day. This means that the varroa should mainly be on the bees, which is apparently the perfect chance to zap them with some oxalic acid. From what I know about acid, however weak, I can't imagine the bees like being sprayed or dripped with acid, but apparently they deal with it better than the mites, that just drop dead (oh, how I wish they all would!).

They say you learn from your mistakes - it's a lie (to quote Vaya Con Dios). Having once been unsuccessful in my attempts to access the bees without a beesuit (when I wrapped them up for the winter), I didn't think that it might be better to start out with a beesuit right away. There is something about the baggy blue boilersuit that makes me not want to put it on. Must be to do with getting legs and arms trapped in opposing sleeves and legs and being semi-strangled by the garment. Anyway, I did without it, believing the bees to be dormant, semi-frozen, huddled around the honey, having a nice winter meal.

Only fools rush in

Opening the hives was not easy as the bees had done a thorough job of sticking the crown board down and the insulation I had strapped on gave little purchase to the hive tool. As soon as I managed, the bees flew up and out. So much for huddling somewhere warm. They were not particularly fast or dangerous, more Sopwith Camel than Fighting Falcon, but even the Camel can get dangerous. There were also so many of them that I felt a retreat to reclothe might be wise. While not aggressive I was not sure how they would react when a syringe filled with acid approached their home, hive and castle, let alone how they would take being soaked in acid. Not without a fight, I imagined. Once again it was great to have pupils along, as they held the fort while I battled the boilersuit. Them I had of course dressed in beesuits right from the start.

Bees not where they should be

Back at the hives, I dripped the acid into the seams between the hives. It should be 5ml in each seam, but even though I had pratised getting the dosage right in the kitchen sink, it was a bit more difficult on site, especially when the volume markers are turned away. I managed well enough and I hope the bees will forgive me the fractions too many dripped in some seam and the varroa take the hint in the seams underdripped and die nevertheless.

Chemical warfare

Finally I placed some fondant on the frames, just in case the bees run out of food. While the hives felt heavy and the bees looked healthy, I don't plan on going into the hives till March, so in case their stores don't last till then, they have the fondant.

A packet full of fondant

Fingers crossed that all goes well till spring, if spring decides to come to this green and pleasant land.

Hefting

My first attempt at hefting - the watch is not obligatory

Hefting is an arcane art practised by beekeepers in winter, by which they grab hold of the hives, lift them a few centimetres above the ground and with much screwing up of the brows and hmmm-ing and aaahhhh-ing can calculate to the precise hexagonal cell how much honey the bees still have stored.
Apparently all it takes to be able to do this is time and practice.
Wanting to be a real beekeeper, I decided that I, too, must heft the hives. So I lifted the hives, which was not quite as easy as it sounds, because they somehow seemed to stick to the bricks they stand on. Having managed that, I screwed up my brows and hmmm-ed and aaahhhh-ed, but I had no clue how much honey the bees had. Both Moon and Star felt heavy, but then the hives themselves, being of wood, are probably quite heavy when empty. To cut a long story short, I am clueless. Perhaps the more often I heft, the more clue I will gain. Let's hope that's the case.
So, no matter what weather, it will be a hefty winter.

In a right lather

With the honey gleaned by hanging, I decided first of all to try and make some soap. For some reason the idea of honey soap had stuck in my mind and when one of the beekeeping magazines I get sent had a recipe in it for fast-hardening soap I thought I would try that. I even emailed the author, Dr Sara Robb, for more information, which she kindly supplied. I had no idea how long the process would take, so set aside a whole afternoon. I had previously acquired some moulds: honeycombed and a small elephant, as well as a baking tray for the good old square stuff.
Making soap is quite easy, but you need a few ingredients, namely three different types of oil, a mixer, caustic soda and scales, because the weights are important.

Let's make soap!

So, all equipment and ingredients prepared, I set about making soap. I prepared the lye, which is a mix of caustic soda and water, which it is better not to breathe in. While that was being nasty in its little glass jug, I mixed the oils and then mixed all together with the aid of a mixer. As soon as that was done it was simply a case of pouring the resultant custardy fluid (not that I would have wanted to taste it) into the moulds and making sure it was warm.

Wrapping the moulds up to keep them warm

To effect this I wrapped all up in towels and towels and towels. Unfortunately, as I did not know how quickly the saponification (as it is known) would take, I think I may have exposed the solidifying soap too early to the cold air of my kitchen, so that the soap did not congeal as it should have done.
At least that's what Dr Robb said when I somewhat disappointedly sent her the photos of the unevenly coloured bars of soap.

Unevenly coloured soap

Another thing that disappointed me was the fact that the soap did not at all smell of honey, although I had put in a generous helping of Ronian honey. Dr Robb (my agony aunt in this matter) said the honey in the soap recipes (yes, soap making comes in recipes) was mainly for reasons of moisturising and not for fragrance. If I wanted honey fragranced soap I would have to put in honey fragrance, as the amount of honey put in is too little to affect the aroma.

What all that means, I guess, is that I'll have to make another batch of soap. While the first batch was fine - it was all good soap and brought out a nice lather - I do want to make some improvements for the second lot. But the whole venture was exciting and if I continue in this vein I will soon join my local WI branch!

More honey

Although all the honey has been jarred and auctioned off, I had two sacks full of wax cappings mixed with honey from my honey extraction. It is possible to extract this honey, though it is generally said not to be of the same quality as the 'normal' honey directly from the frames. I guess this is because it might have more wax particles in it. However, that honey, I thought, should be ideal to make some other honey products.

I had been saving this honey to extract at some point when all the fuss has died down when I would also have some time to devote to making whatever products I fancied.

So, over the winter, I first of all extracted the honey. This basically meant hanging the plastic bags with the cappings and honey into a fine meshed bag, cutting the plastic bag and letting the honey drip through the muslin. This was a slow process, each bag taking a whole day to trickle through, but it did yield a bit of honey that I was able to use for other purposes (of which later). There is still some honey with the wax and the next step is to purify the wax so this can be used to make polish, candles or whatnot.

Even though the bees are resting, I'm not! But I'm not complaining: this is all fun and I'm working nowhere near as hard as the bees did throughout the summer. They deserve their rest.