From A to Bee (12 page)

It has been an interesting couple of days. First, there was the compelling event of our lovely neighbours moving out, who hadn't started packing until the day before. Imagine trying to empty a four bedroom house, with no professional help, while trying to look after two kids aged ten and three, two dogs, three cats, three chickens and two gerbils. It was never going to be a relaxing twenty-four hours for them and it certainly didn't look like a relaxing final hour either. As the removals company for our new neighbours, Nicky and Jo, arrived and just parked patiently outside, poor Duncan and Jane were literally throwing their lifelong belongings into the back of a small horsebox – yes, a small horsebox. Heaven knows why they left it so late but I should imagine their respective blood pressures have hit new highs.

  We went to see them this morning in their caravan, which is only just big enough for them, let alone their menagerie. I also got to see the task ahead of them – building a four bedroom house from scratch. Their predicament looks pretty bleak, and when you consider that they couldn't fit much of their belongings inside the caravan it looks even worse. Last night they left it all outside under a loosely fitted tarpaulin, just in time for a pretty terrible rainstorm. Off flew the tarpaulin and needless to say most of their things are now sodden and unusable. It is not often I feel sorry for people, but I have to say this morning was one of those occasions as I stood in the abyss of a huge hole ready for foundations, which resembled a swimming pool after last night's downpour. I walked away pretty pleased with my own domestic arrangements but wishing them all the luck in the world.

  Quite aside from all of that it was quite an exciting day for me as I saw an advert in the back of
Beecraft
, the beekeeping magazine, for a nucleus of bees for sale. After closer investigation I realised it was for five frames of bees (about 5,000 apparently) complete with a 'laying queen'. The price of £150 is quite high really if you consider what you are getting for that money. But then as beekeeping seems to have become the 'in thing', I suppose they can charge that sort of money.

  I was having some discussions with a blogging friend of mine about this sum of money and basically the crux is whether I definitely want to start beekeeping this year. The cheapest way to get bees is to hand your hive (or parts of it anyway) to your local association and then wait. You hope that as swarms of bees are recovered from around the local area, your hive is the one that is picked. I wonder if it is like those games you play on Brighton Pier which are a complete rip-off – you know, the ones with the mechanical arm that looks like it will pick up the fluffy bunny, nips its ear, starts to pull the bunny up and then, just as the pincers close, the ear miraculously escapes… There is no guarantee this way that you will get a swarm. However, there are a lot of beekeepers in the association and so there must be a chance that a beekeeper forgets to check their hive or doesn't see the tell-tale sign of a hive wanting to swarm (large cells known as queen cells are what to look for apparently). When the old queen gets the hint that the colony is raising a new queen, she will take a good proportion of the older bees and fly out of the hive to find a new home elsewhere. Generally this will be local to the hive for a period of time while they try to find a viable new home. If a swarm is reported there are people within local associations that will go and retrieve these swarms offering the bees a new hive to take up home in.

I was told of a little poem that beekeepers are said to remember when dealing with swarms. It goes like this:

Essentially the earlier in the year you can get a swarm the better. If you can get an early swarm, then there is more chance that they will become established and you could get a good crop of honey from them.

  Alternatively, if you buy a nucleus, you will have bees, simple as that.

  I have also learned that having a nucleus, despite the expense, is also good for the beginner. As the frames of bees grow, so does your experience and confidence. If you are lucky, you may get some honey at the end of the year as well.

  I think that I may try both. I might just have to make contact with this gentleman, to see how many nuclei he has.

  There is one more option. You can put an empty hive near your house and hope that there might be a passing swarm that may be vaguely attracted to the colour, aspect, size and smell of the lovely empty hive that has appeared on the horizon. It sounds a complete shot in the dark but could be worth a try as, except for the effort of taking a hive and planting it on the ground somewhere, it doesn't sound like there is a lot to do. There are ways to increase your chances of attracting a swarm to a bait hive, the name given to a hive for this purpose. You can rub propolis into it – a glue-like product produced by bees – or rub other bee-friendly smells into internal walls like orange or lemon peel.

  Either way I have to pick one of these methods and make a decision. No bees mean no honey!

  The last bit of exciting news is that my local beekeeping association is having a 'frame-building' day next week – which, as it happens, is the same weekend that I will be building my first hive (hopefully I receive it in time through the post). A year ago I would have laughed at the chances of going to a frame-building day… What have I become?!

  Finally, today I was able to get out into the garden and plant some shallots and onions as well as do a general clear up. It felt really nice to be in the garden again and the weather held off, which was a bonus. I had a really enjoyable day with Jo and Sebastian, running around the shops and then going to a playground in the afternoon. It's great to actually have time as a family; a rare commodity at the moment due to work commitments and other friends and family commitments. We do too much! Tomorrow: working, driving up to Birmingham, on to Bolton and then home again. Not the nicest way to spend a Sunday.

Though it is a little bit late to do this, today was an important day. I felt Sebastian was old enough to learn how to chit potatoes, even if it meant doing this from his high chair. On reflection, I am not quite sure he has yet grasped the importance of letting the potato sprout before planting and still sees the potato as an object to throw or nibble on.

  In my family the potato is the most important of all vegetables and I have fond memories of my formative years helping Dad on the allotment to dig them up. It was always as if Dad was as amazed as I was every time the fork lifted up and lots of lovely, dirty-looking potatoes came spilling out of the earth. I remember distinctly Dad's love for pink fur apple potatoes and he and I would always marvel at the bizarre and silly shapes that would come out of the ground.

  In thirty years' time I wonder if Sebastian will have the same nostalgic feelings for the vegetable that I do. I will do my best to ensure that he does and it all started today while trying to describe to him why we place potatoes into half-sided egg cartons to let little sprouts develop. I am not sure he was too impressed but I think he felt it was a great break from his usual shape-sorters where he attempts to put brightly coloured squares into circle-shaped holes. This was a breeze compared to that and despite looking distinctly unimpressed by his first attempts at potato chitting he was actually rather good at it. Now there is a job for life in my book.

Spring is officially on its way. Goodbye February, hello March. I have to say it was one of those days when you draw the curtains and the first thing you notice is that fella Jack Frost has made an appearance. In the half-light you can make out a hazy sun rising as well as seeing the wildlife around you waking up to a beautiful dawn.

  It is generally accepted that Britain is a pretty miserable and inhospitable place when the weather is foul, and it has been for about three months now. However, today was an exception. It was stunning and it's amazing what a little bit of sunshine does for you. Today, Monday, was great for many reasons and it all started with the weather.

  I live in the middle of nowhere and good God do I know it. Having lived in London for many years, the move to the country was a welcome relief; but the most fundamental change, alongside the saddening realisation that I couldn't walk out of my door to a choice of pubs and restaurants, was the fact that I really noticed sunrise and sunset. I cannot tell you how much I despise the clocks going back in the winter when the commute to and from work, which by that time is already in semi-darkness, is plunged into pitch black. We don't have streetlights out here so you really, really notice the dark. However, one of my favourite times of the year is fast approaching and it is simply gauged by the sunset I witness. Each day, driving home at pretty much the same time, days just seem to last that little bit longer and though it's only about two or three minutes a day, it's enough to lift my spirits an incredible amount. Today was one of those days; the first day I have noticed the last strip of light as I was driving home. How wonderful.

  Arriving home, I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, and standing there at the top of the stairs was Sebastian. At the top of his voice he simply shouted 'Dad-dy!' Now I have got the odd spattering of 'Dad-dy' before but not with such annunciation and sheer joy. What a lovely coming home present from my seventeen-month-old son. He then proceeded to run off and cause havoc with his fire engine but, by that point, I wasn't really worried.

  This has also been a nice day because of the dawning realisation that this is the week that I could get my hive and could be building it at the weekend – whether the hive arrives or not, I will be building frames for a beehive, courtesy of my local beekeeping association. Though a little apprehensive, as it will be my first meeting with them, I am looking forward to getting my hands dirty.

  There is one final positive point about today, though, and that is about the old beekeeping neighbour of ours, Anne Buckingham whose Saab I used to clean every week for extra pocket money; my parents must have bumped in to her while walking the dogs and Mum phoned this evening to tell me. Her garden was beautiful with a great slope covered in flowers and she had kept her beehives high up on the outer perimeter. It may explain, on a subconscious level, why I felt drawn to beekeeping. I always remember the yellow spots of pollen we used to get on the washing when it was hung outside not to mention the spots on the car which were impossible to remove. Mum always came in and stated it was because of the bees down the road.

  Now, what I didn't realise was that Anne was, and still is, very active in the Surrey Beekeepers' Association. What a wonderful coincidence. I have asked Mum to see if she would mind me popping over for a cup of tea and a little bit of advice to steer me in the right direction. Maybe this weekend after I have built the hive… unless I lose my temper while doing the fiddly bits, which I am sure could happen.

  What a nice day; wish they were all like this.