A Swarm of bees in May is Worth a Load of Hay

After my last disappointment with the bees, I was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that perhaps my beekeeping days were over. I was ready to offload all my equipment and concentrate on less baffling projects. A lifetimes association though, is hard to abandon, and so I prevaricated hoping that something might turn up. The swarming season was coming to an end and with no signs of bees anywhere else to acquire, my thoughts turned elsewhere, mainly towards Thistledew my ancient campervan, and taking to the road again.
So, a visit to Mill Garage in Duns (brilliant people with motor caravans and vehicles in general) was required to get an MOT sorted. As I walked in to the workshop Jimmy the owner looked up and said "David, just the man I wanted to see." OH, oh, I thought. Jimmy is one of this world`s jokers and is always game to pull your leg, so I was not sure what to think when he told me that a swarm had landed in his son`s garden, and would I like to go and see it? Every time I see Jimmy he gently and comically refers to my stolen bees, so I was ready for the joke which must surely follow. But no, this time he was serious and phoned his son to tell him that he had seen me.

I drove the short distance to Stephen and Leslie`s house to look and sure enough, a lovely semi prime swarm was settled in a text book position on the edge of their garden hedge about 2 feet above the ground.

Perfect.

The capture of the swarm was easily accomplished, gently shaking the swarm into the shallow super that I placed under it.

I left them until the evening, when I returned and found that they had all settled down. I secured the pack and loaded the new acquisition into my van for the uneventful journey to my new apiary site in the woods near my home.

This all happened on Friday, I left them to settle over the weekend, and this morning with some slight trepidation, Meghan and I paid a visit at 07.00 to check. No need to have worried they were busy doing what bees do at this time of year, coming and going with full pollen baskets and hopefully full honey stomachs, as if oblivious to the fact they were in a completely new location several miles from their previous home.

So a big thank you is owed to Jimmy, Stephen and Leslie and an even bigger thank you to Rebecca for the photographs.

Non beekeepers may wonder about the title to this blog.

It is from the old beekeepers mantra from the days when bees were kept in skeps, and the only way of keeping bees was to start each season with a new swarm and destroy it in the autumn to garner the crop. Thankfully we don`t have to do that these days. The full rhyme goes something like this :-

A swarm of bees in May is worth a load of hay,

A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon,

But a swarm of bees in July isn`t worth a fly.

An incoming swarm of bees in any month is nowadays most welcome although they have been very shy over the last few years.

Tomorrow I plan to place a new brood chamber box under the shallow super and give the bees a sugar syrup feed to help them quickly draw foundation into those magnificently intricate combs, which will fill with brood and continue natures way of strengthening the new fragile colony.

Perhaps next year I can steal some of their hard won stores..............

What about Thistledew? Do I hear you say.

Well, after a bit of skillful welding at Mill Garage, a new MOT certificate was presented, so more money to part with for Road Fund Licence and we are off down to Hampshire for a farewell party at my son Adrian's house on Saturday. It will be great to see him, Lucy and baby Thomas again.

The farewell part?

Well, Adrian has been appointed Commanding Officer of the Falkland Islands Royal Navy Patrol Vessel/Guard Ship HMS Clyde and will be on Southern Atlantic Patrol duties for the next six months.

He leaves on Sunday for a `2 leg` 19 hour flight (via Ascension Island) leaving Brize Norton at midnight. Arriving in the Falklands Monday evening....... Bon Voyage Son.

So all in all we have had an exciting last few days, with hopefully more to follow.

We are hoping to travel north from Hampshire taking the best part of the week to make our way leisurely through Wales camping en route, to my sisters home near Chester for yet another party on the following Saturday. This time it will be Pam and Geoff`s 40th wedding anniversary........

Note to Phillip H. We are thinking of your dear wife`s admission to BGH today for the hip replacement operation.

We do hope that it goes well and that she will soon be chasing you around again. Give her our love., and you behave yourself whilst she is away!

These days, its only the stress that gives me the energy to carry on.
I`m at that time of life when profound thoughts cross my mind, like isn`t nature wonderful to arrange it so that wrinkles don`t hurt?
I`m even feeling a tad sympathetic towards anyone who would wish to be Prime Minister. Imagine on Friday next, facing all the problems that await the new incumbent. Can you imagine wanting that? I wouldn`t want it. It makes me wonder if it is sensible to vote for anyone who actually wants to do the job. Just think, their judgment and the decisions that they will have to make, can have a devastating effect on all of us. I`m not sure if I can trust the judgment of anyone who thinks that they really want to be PM. After all they have not displayed particulary good sense in wanting to do the job. Hey Ho,I must be getting old and cynical.
Life to me is like a toilet roll.....the nearer to the end you get, the faster it goes.

David

Bees are in my blood - well, almost...

I came into this world at Westbury Station, on 5th Oct 1943, to the accompaniment of the whistle of of the 12.15 steam train from Shrewsbury to Welshpool.
I wasn`t actually born on the platform or even the passenger waiting room. My grandfather, Cyril, you see, was the Station Master, and my mother lived in the station house with Cyril and my grandmother Jessie. My father, Fred, was away in Burma, engaged in various battles with our then enemies, the Japanese. Up to his neck in swamps, jungles and no doubt bullets. Some people will do anything to escape the wailings of a new born baby!
My paternal grandparents were farmers in Preston Brook, Cheshire. Lower Eanley Wood Farm was the place. My father was the youngest of 4 brothers William, Harry, and James. My grandfather was William and my grandmother was Henrietta. They also had a daughter called Jessie who sadly died, quite young, many years ago.
When I was 4 years old we moved from Westbury to live at Lower Eanley Wood, where my father rejoined the family farm on his return from the war.
It was actually in the village of Norton, in the valley below Norton Water Tower, a landmark that exists today. The farm land was bounded to the south east, by the Warrington to Chester Railway alongside the Bridgewater Canal which hugged the contour halfway up the Hill known as Red Brow.
The canal passed through Preston Brook tunnel to Dutton, where it became the Trent and Mersey, at the Dutton stop lock. Between Preston Brook and our farm, a real canal junction existed, with an iron roving bridge to allow towing horses to change from one towpath to another without casting off. This junction was known as the Runcorn Arm and wound its way around the contour 6 miles to Runcorn and then down via a flight of locks to join the River Mersey and the Manchester Ship Canal. This gave an uninterupted lock free pound from Runcorn to Wigan via Manchester. Our land continued to the west, beyond the canal and around the back of the old canal warehouse complex, with a dirt track known as the Cow Lane from Preston Brook directly to the farm over the first hump back bridge on the Runcorn Arm. The land to the right of the arm to the next bridge (Norton Bridge) by Juddy Williams` Cottage, was also in our occupation.The canal was built by James Brindley to the instructions of the Duke of Bridgewater, to enable coal to be shipped cheaply from the mines at Worsley to Manchester, and indeed heralded the canal age more than 200 years ago. The extension from Manchester to Runcorn was added later and the link up to the Trent and Mersey Canal enabled trade to prosper, firstly to and from the Potteries to Liverpool and over the Penines to Yorkshire and eventually south to the Capital itself.
I feel sure that this background has been responsible for my love of all things rural, and my interest in the canals of the UK, England and Wales in particular.
I used to walk home from Daresbury school, a distance of about 4 miles, in all weathers from the age of 5. Uncomtemplatable today. But it was always safe in those days.
My first encounter with bees and beekeeping occured at this time. At the bottom corner of our land just accross the railway, under Red Brow, lived an old couple (at least they appeared old to a 6 year old) From memory it seemed that they lived in an old black cabin, like an old railway carriage, except that I`m sure it wasn`t. They occupied land between the railway level crossing and the stream which was at the bottom of the hill below the canal level, growing vegetables and keeping bees. I can`t remember if he worked at a job or not, or if they were retired. There was to me the magic art of beekeeping going on. Fortunately he tolerated my sporadic appearances at the apiary, and something of that way of life rubbed off and on to me.
It has stayed with me for the rest of my life.
All these memories were passing through my mind as I approached the Hives nr Gifford to see if the bees were OK after our particularly hard winter.
Meghan was quite happy, the sun was shining and the hives were in view. Of the bees there was no sign. I quickened my pace and tapped on the hive wall expecting to hear the buzzing in response from the bees, but only silence. I hefted the rear of the hive to assess the weight. Quite heavy, normally a good sign. Still no bees at the entrance and none flying. I dismantled the roof and feeder. It was empty, indicating that the bees had taken last years winter syrup feed down into the chambers.
Further dismantling showed plenty of capped honey and pollen but no sign of any eggs or brood at any stage. Neither was there any sign of bees. They had all dissapeared. very few dead bees on the floor, non visible on the ground in front of the hive.
I checked further, but there was no sign of emergency queen cells or any indication that the bees had attempted queen replacement. So there it was, perfect condition, loaded with stores but bereft of bees. Classic signs of CCD. (Colony collapse disorder).
something that I had not experienced before.
Perhaps if I had acquired this colony earlier last year I could have examined it and ensured that it was queenright before winter, but the weather was against any such manipulation. The lesser evil was to feed it up and allow it to take its chances.
So, apart from the short period after the theft I am now without bees for the first time in more than 50 years.
I`ll wait to see if any swarms become available in May or June. If not I`ll have to consider my future options.

FALLING FORWARD INTO SPRING

Just over 3 months since my last post. So many things must have happened whilst I was hibernating, but I didn`t notice.
But the sleep was worth it.
Not true of course.
My hectic retirement keeps me very busy, and the thought of a new year with a new season of beekeeping in mind, and new experiences to be sought, has been forward in my mind.
The snow has finally receded around our village, but it is still to be seen on the high Cheviots across the Merse to the south, and also on the tops of the Lammermuir Hills to the west and north. although it is much less than in the depths of winter.
Our Council apparently spent an additional million pounds this winter because of snow clearing and road gritting, with some council employees putting in 90+ hours in a week!
They are still doing sterling service filling potholes in the roads.
I did suggest to the council how they could have saved a little money.
My idea was instead of waiting for the snow to make everywhere impassable, and then spend time loading tons and tons of the stuff onto huge lorries, all they had to do was park lots of lorries on the roads, nose to tail, before it snowed.
Do you get my drift?
Nature would have done all the costly hard work, by snowing directly onto the lorries instead of the roads, under the trucks.
Then just the simple task of driving it all away when it stopped snowing. No JCBs, and 100s of hours saved.
`Seemple`as the meerkats would say.
Roads cleared in no time at all, not even compressed snow left behind, and much less cost.
They did not take my idea up.
Possibly the date (01 APR 2010) had something to do with it. You know, financial year end and so on coming up. Too busy with paperwork etc.
As we progress further into spring my thoughts were constantly with my bees in the wood near Gifford.
Before winter, on accepting the hives and the single colony, I decided to give a winter feed to the colony to ensure sufficient stores were available to them. The weather at the time being late in the season, precluded opening the hive to examine the bees before the winter shutdown, so it was a case of feed them quickly and secure the colony for the winter, with the least possible disturbance, leaving them to their own devices and to Nature to make it through till the spring, when the warmer weather arrived.
Normally a warmish dry day in late March would be ideal to assess the colony`s strength.
A suitable day did not occur until earlier this week, so suitably equipped I ventured forth on a round trip of 65 miles to check the colony over.
It was a very pleasant walk through the woodland after parking my van. Signs of spring springing were in the air, all was looking favourable for the bees to be flying. Meghan my Collie was as usual enjoying the romp through the woods, never more than 20 yards away, alert to every rustle in the undergrowth and doing what Meghan does best.
Anticipation of seeing the bees flying at the hive entrance was foremost on my mind, as the area of the wood where the hives are came into view. Surely I had left them with a fighting chance of survival. We approached the hive startling a deer which bounded off through the trees. A blackbird was singing and everywhere was looking fresh after a hard winter. All I wanted was to see bees flying and working the early spring dandelions. The hives came into view, everything looked as if it should be OK. Meghan was doing her usual thing, chasing and throwing sticks into the air.
Since my hives were stolen last September, I went into the winter with only one colony of bees left. This was thanks to the kindness of my friend, Pat, who donated these two hives housing one colony to me, to get me started again.
I have been associated with bees and beekeeping for more than 50 years. You cannot imagine after this time what it was like to be bereft of bees, but Pat generously came to the rescue with the hives in the wood. The plan was, that I could slowly make increase given favourable conditions and get back to where I was with several colony`s of bees in a good apiary, given a couple of seasons and good conditions.
I`ll tell you in my next blog what happened next.

David
Thistledew.

OH NO

18.40 Hours. Guess what?
It`s snowing again in Chirnside.
I think I`ll go to bed....Wake me up in the spring

David
Thistledew.

DEEP AND CRISP AND NOT VERY EVEN

More snow during last night here in Chirnside.
We are almost 400 ft above sea level, so do tend to get weather in this locality, when other areas may well escape.
But Hey! we appear to have been given the day off again tomorrow (click on this link) http://www.scotborders.gov.uk/
This morning Meg (my manic Border Collie), and I ploughed through the white stuff on a hunting and foraging trip to the local shop.
At least half the village joined in.
I have never seen so many familiar faces in the same place at the same time. We all had the same idea.
The council team were out in the village centre at Cross Hills which is also the highest point. They were using a JCB to lift the snow on to the back of a huge tipper lorry. A group of us pondered what they wanted the snow for and concluded that surrounding districts were complaining that they did not have enough snow so we were to send them some of ours.
Not so.
The lorry evidently was taking the snow to a local field to dispose of it, but it was a strange sight nonetheless.
Our procession, growing by the minute, wended its way to the Co-op to find that they had not had deliveries of bread or milk for almost a week. The main road looked as it must have done 100 years ago, no vehicles and everybody on foot. It was notable that everybody including the local yoofs had time to stop and chat.
Meghan loved it
Perhaps we need more snow throughout the UK to help us resurect old values.
All in all despite the lack of supplies and the struggle along the road from our house, it was a very pleasant experience. And our council says have a day off tomorrow.
Life`s not all bad is it?

Keep warm
Keep safe
David
Thistledew.

MY WORLD IN THE SCOTTISH BORDERS and WELCOME TO IT. (At the moment you really are welcome to it)

I opened the curtains this morning to a beautiful day in Alaska. Or so it seemed.
Evidently last nights snow was excessive even by Scottish standards. I don`t think that I would be exaggerating to say that 3 feet of snow fell during the night.
The next couple of hours or so were spent digging my way around the bungalow and my neighbours bungalow. Jock, my amazingly independent next door neighbour was as usual, reluctant to accept help, even though he is 86 years old. He said that he has not died yet during the winter. Fair enough I say.

It has snowed at least 3 times since this picture was taken and as I write, it is now snowing again. No vehicles have moved on our road all day, and the Police issued a warning that all roads in the Borders area were closed.

Meghan, my Border Collie thinks that the snow is good fun, so good in fact that she brings great dollops of the stuff indoors with her, much to the chagrin of my better half.

Our flock of starlings sparrows, blackbirds and wrens are queuing up at the bird table for food all day. I have fed them twice already today, and they still want more.

Our local Co-op has apparently run out of all the basic essentials, and is unable to receive more supplies due to the state of the roads. (all roads to our village are uphill and lorries could not gain traction even if the surrounding roads were clear) but we are all pretty much stocked up with the basic necessities so hopefully we wont starve.

I wonder how my new bees are doing at the moment. It is impossible to visit them until the snow goes. The biggest problem is that the entrance to the hives may be blocked with drifting snow, and the ventilation may be affected. this can lead to dampness which is a serious problem within the hive. The bees can normally deal with this but the amount of snow and the speed with which it is settling could possibly overwhelm them. Lets hope not. As these bees are deep within a wood, my fears are probably groundless. It is strange that even in the depths of winter my thoughts constantly stray to my bees, and particularly to the ones that were stolen.
The police phoned again yesterday to say that they still have no information as to their whereabouts but they are keeping the case open. I just hope that the low life who took them know how to manage them during the winter months.

Our forecast is for more snow tonight so the cycle of hibernate overnight and dig out tomorrow will continue.

I wish you all peace and cosiness, keep warm.