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.