Bee Important! Bee Special!

I went out to my small apiary for an inspection of my hives.  I wanted to make certain everything was okay. 

The bees had been a little grumpy for about a week.  Every time I went outside, I’d get escorted back to the house by one or two bees.  I was wondering what was going on.  Was it the cloudy weather?  Were we in a dearth?  Was the queen still there?

There is nothing I can do about bad weather.  But, if we were in a dearth, and the nectar had stopped flowing, I could feed my bees some sugar water to get them by.  If the queen was gone?  Well, I could buy them a new queen.  So, I needed to go into the hives and see what was going on.

I lit my smoker and walked over to the hive. I gently puff a bit of smoke in the front entrance, first, to calm the bees.  Then I lift the outer cover and puff a bit of smoke in from the top.  I pull off the outer cover and pop up the inner cover a bit.  I push a little smoke into the top of the hive.  The bees should be calm and relaxed by now, as they busily fill their tummies with honey.

After setting the smoker down, I pull the inner cover all the way off and peer down into the top bars of the medium honey super.  The bees are working hard. And there are lots of them.  I can tell that this must be a healthy hive.

I pull a few frames out of the super and look them over.  There are three frames that have been fully drawn with comb.  Each cell has been packed to capacity with nectar that has been turned into honey and then capped.  I take a moment to admire beautiful white capped comb.  White, yet translucent.  And I can see the amber light glowing through the frame of honey.

A peek at the rest of the frames in the super, and between the frames down into the brood box and I can tell the bees have plenty of stores.  The dearth hasn’t started, yet.  It is time to look for the queen.

I finish my inspection of the honey super and then add a little more smoke.  Then I use my hive tool to help me pry the honey super away from the deep brood box.  The bees have glued the two boxes together with propolis.  I must wedge my hive tool between the boxes and lift one corner slightly.  Then I go to a second corner.  I hear a crack and a pop, and I know the two boxes are unglued.  Now, I can pull the super off the brood box.

I set the honey super aside and begin my search for the queen in earnest.  As I lift out the first frame, a few bees detach themselves and begin to buzz around me, getting in my face.

“Hey buddy!  What in the Hive are you doing here?”

“Yeah,” I hear from a second voice.  “This is private property!”

“Get lost!” a third voice chimes in.

I’m startled!  I’ve heard of other beekeepers telling me that their bees talk to them.  But, I’ve always thought they meant figuratively, not literally.

“Well,” I say, somewhat hesitantly, “I’m looking for the queen.”

“The Queen?” the boldest of the three bees says.  “Why is always the queen that people want to see?”

I tried to explain “She’s the most important bee in the hive.  She keeps everyone working.  She lays the eggs that makes other bees.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Bee One, the bold girl.  “All she does is walk around all day sticking her fat butt into the cells we’ve made.  The cells we keep clean.  She doesn’t even feed herself.  We do that!”

Emboldened by her sister, Bee Two chimes in, “We pamper that girl even before she’s born.  She gets a queen-sized cell to pupate in.  And she gets extra food to eat.  No bee bread for that baby girl!  She gets fed Royal Jelly.  Nothing but the good stuff.”

Bee Three can’t hold her tongue anymore.  “And when she comes out of the cell, do you know what she does?  Nothing!  For two weeks, she does nothing at all.  Just marches around the hive, acting all important.

“Do you know what I did when I first came out of my cell?  I got down on my bee’s knees and scrubbed out the floor of my own cell.  And my sisters’ cells.  Before I even had my first meal, I was cleaning out cells.  And I’ve been working hard every day of my life ever since.”

“But,” I protested, “there is only one queen and there are tens of thousands of you.  The queen really is special.”

“Special?  Can she gather nectar and pollen?” asked Bee One.

“Can she make wax and build comb?” asked Bee Two.

“Can she guard the entrance and fight off intruders?” asked Bee Three.

“Can she turn nectar into honey?” asked Bee One.

“NO!” the three bees sing in unison.

“Look at how beautiful she is,” I begin “with that long golden abdomen and her shiny thorax.  The rest of you all look the same.  Your just normal, everyday worker bees.  If I met you out in the yard, I couldn’t tell one of you from the other.  In fact, I can’t keep track of just three bees as you go buzzing in circles around my face.  How am I supposed to pick out one bee out of 20 or 30 thousand bees?”

“We are more special and more necessary than the queen!” declared Bee One … or was it Bee Three?  I’m not sure.

“Let me give you something to remember me by,” said Bee Two.

“Me too,” said Bee Three.

“Me three,” said Bee One.

And that’s when they stung me.  One on the hand.  Two stung me on the knee.  And Three nailed me on my nose.

Nope.  I’ll never forget those three bees.  They were very special bees.

But I still think the queen is the most Important bee in the hive.

… Wait!  Do you hear a buzzing sound?

Post #50 Installation of Royalty

The new queen had arrived, and I was anxious to get her installed before the bees flew away.  I put on my coveralls and boots, grabbed my bee gloves, veil, hive tool and smoker.  I drove the new queen out to meet her subjects.

From what I’d read, I had to kill the old queen first, or the new queen would be killed by the old queen.  I had seen black and white photos and drawings of queen bees, but the queen in the cage was the first live queen I had ever seen.  I didn’t really know the difference between the queen and worker bees, other than that the queen was larger than workers.  I also knew that drones were larger than workers, but not as large as a queen.

I lit my smoker, put on the veil and gloves, gathered all of my bee equipment, and carried the new queen out to middle of the field where the hive was.  I gently set the queen on a rock near the hive under the shade of a tree.  I took a good look at her.  She was cool, she was comfortable, her attendant was there to watch over her.

Then I turned my attention to the hive and the bees.  I smoked the bees, removed the cover and began the hunt for the old queen.  I still did not know much about bees or bee behavior.  I wasn’t sure if I had the old queen or not.  So, I pretty much went through the hive indiscriminately killing big bees.  I looked at each frame carefully.  If the bee was unfortunate enough to be overweight, it got squished.  If it was bigger than its neighbors, it was a dead bee.  I killed bee after bee.  Finally, I was satisfied that I had done all I could do to ensure a peaceable transfer of power from the old queen to the new. 

Peaceable?  After that slaughter of bees?  Well at least I had given the new queen every chance to take control of the hive.  The old queen must surely be dead.  I replaced all of the frames and got the hive back in order.

Then, I turned to the rock to pick up the new queen.  The new monarch and mother of the hive who would rule over the hive with a kind and gentle hand.  The queen who would labor day after day laying eggs and producing generation after generation of bees for the next two to three years.

New Queens have to be installed slowly.  They have to be introduced to the hive properly, or the bees will just see her as an intruder and kill her.

In order to help with the transition, the queen cage has a screen on the side, with the exit on the end.  The exit is blocked by a piece of candy.  It usually takes a day or two for the bees to eat through the candy and release the queen.  By that time, they are familiar with her smell.  They will bring her water and try to groom her through the cage.  They get to know her and accept her.  Maybe they take this time to swap stories and compare relatives (“You’re from Navasota?  I have relatives from there.  Do you know the Buckfast Family?  You are?  We’ll we’re practically cousins!”).

Everyone becomes comfortable with everyone else during the time of the great candy eating.  And what better way to break the ice than over a meal of sugar?  The queen can be released once the candy is gone, and she can get to work immediately. 

So, I’ve put the hive back together, and I turn to the rock, reaching down to pick up the queen. 

And … she’s covered with ants!

The ants were attracted to the candy and decided the queen and her worker would also make for a nutritious meal.

What I knew about hives at this time (which wasn’t enough) was that bees will leave a hive when there isn’t a queen in the hive.  I was desperate.  I had just murdered everyone in the hive that looked slightly queenish, and the queen I had intended to take over the hive had just been devoured by a tribe of wild ants!  Without a queen, I would surely lose all of my bees.

I quickly pulled out my cell phone to call Weaver …

Oh, wait.  We didn’t have a cell phone back then.

O.K.  I put the hive back together, gathered my beekeeping tools and walked back to my truck.  I drove home, cranked up the computer, went online …

Oh yea, no internet, either.

I drove home, picked up the phone and dialed (yes, a rotary dial) Weaver Apiaries.

After they stopped laughing, the Weavers promised to mail me another queen.

The second time, I was able to keep the queen safe.  And I didn’t slaughter as many innocent drones.

I still don’t know if the queen in that hive was my Weaver Buckfast queen or not.  I just know that we had bees.

Maybe now I was really a beekeeper.

Post # 49 Requeening

I carried the bees out to their new home well behind Sister-In-Law’s house.  Now, I needed to worry about the queen.  First, I wasn’t sure if I had captured her.  Second, I was pretty sure the bees would just fly away if they didn’t have a queen.

I had gone to the library (remember them?) and started reading about bees while waiting for my kit to arrive.

I learned that I should get a new queen after capturing a feral hive to make sure I had bees that behaved well.  I should decide if I wanted gentle bees (Yes!), bees that produced a lot of honey (Yes!), or bees that did both (Yes and yes!).

My Sears and Roebuck Beginning Beekeeper’s kit had come with a book on beekeeping and it had also come with a list of places where you could buy bees.  Buy bees?  How amazing that you could buy a bee!  It turns out that one of the places that sold bees and also sold queens was in Texas.

Weaver Apiaries was in Navasota and would be willing to sell me a new queen.  I called Weaver and visited with them.  According to Weaver’s the queen I wanted was the Buckfast Queen.  She was gentle, she produced gentle bees that don’t get riled up easily, and her offspring would produce lots of honey.

I was sold.  I gave them my credit card number over the phone and they said they would mail my queen to me right away.

She arrived in about two days.  The Post Office called the house early that morning and told me I had a bee waiting, would I please come and pick it up?

Wife went to the Post Office, and was let in the back door before they were open for regular business.  They handed her a large burlap sack.  The kind of sack that people use to run races in at parties.  The 50-pound potato sack variety.

And in the sack was a little wooden box.  The box was maybe 2” X 1”.  The queen and a worker bee were caged inside the box.

Wife brought the queen home.  I was excited.  I took part of the day off from work so I could install the new queen.

Post #48 Why Bees?

I’ve decided it is time to revisit my blog.  I know, the blog says “30 Years of Dog” but it has now been more than thirty years since my first dog.  And I have to admit, there is more to life than dogs.  So, with that in mind, I think I’ll broaden the scope of my blog.

For now, I’d like to talk a bit about Bees.

Sometime in the mid to late 1980’s my sister-in-law’s house was invaded by bees.  They didn’t realize they had a colony of bees until the bees started visiting with them while they were in the bathroom.  Sister-In-Law told Wife and I about the bees.  “Bees!” I thought, as she continued to tell wife about the pests.  “My grandfather used to keep bees on his farm.  Maybe beekeeping runs in the blood.”

I rejoined the conversation and proposed that we catch and keep the bees for the honey.  Sister-In-Law agreed.  The bees would live on their five acres of property and I would take care of the bees and harvest the honey.

A new beekeeper was born! 

If you remember the 1980’s, then you remember that the internet was not yet available to the general public and that cell phones were rare and expensive.  You may also remember that Sears and Roebuck was king of the department stores.  They sold everything.  All you needed was access to the proper catalog.  I went over to our little Sears Catalog store and picked up a copy of the Farm and Ranch Catalog. 

Inside these wonderful pages I found what I needed: A beginning beekeepers kit!  The kit came with a veil, gloves, smoker, hive tool, brood box, 10 frames that fit in the brood box 10 sheets of wax foundation that fit in the frames, a bottom board, an inner cover, and a telescoping outer cover.

The hive arrived a couple of days later.  I put the hive together, painted it white and made a date to get the bees out of the house.  Brother-in-law, sister-in-law and I gathered at the colony’s old home.  All this took place before the Africanized Honey Bee had crossed the Rio Grande River.  So we knew the bees would be relatively tame, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t sting us if they got the chance.  So we were very careful. I lit my smoker and sent smoke into the colony.  The smoke is supposed to make the little girls scared and start filling up on honey, in case there is a fire and they have to leave in a hurry.  Of course, drinking all that honey gives them a full tummy, and makes them happy and gentle.

We opened the soffit of the house and pulled the bee comb and all the bees out of the house.  Well, maybe we pulled most of the bees out.  It seems I had to just hope that the Queen was in the box with the rest of her bees.

In any event, I was now a Beekkeeper!

Why bees?  Because it is in the blood!  Thanks grandpa Hamilton.