Where to begin? Somewhere within the last month the starter gun was shot and we haven’t stopped moving since. The events on the farm just keep piling up. Let’s start with my bees…

Knowing that my ordered package of 12,000 new daughters was arriving on May 22nd, I dragged out my purchased used equipment on the 20th (procrastinaaaaation!) to see what I could see. I saw this…

What you are looking at is the top lid of the hive. It is covered with tiny ants. F! Back in March we discovered a leak in the oil tank in the garage. When we stored the equipment there in April, it occurred to us that the fumes from the spill might contaminate the hive. So it was moved outside and placed on a pallet, under a tarp. It never occurred to me that something else might move in.

I just stood there with this overwhelming feeling of knowing just how much I didn’t know. How do I remove an ant infestation? Clearly I can’t grab a can of Raid… wait a minute…

Chicken buffet! I tossed the ant populated sections in with the chickens and within minutes it was clean! Luckily the infestation wasn’t concentrated in the main body of the hive where the chickens could destroy the comb.

My main concern was whether or not the used equipment was contaminated with some disease, left by the last colony, that would jeopardize the incoming new bees. After joining several online message boards and reading many posts (what exactly did we do before the Internet?), I realized that I needed a live person to examine the hive.

Roberta is my assigned mentor from my bee club, The Catskill Beekeepers Club (http://www.catskillbees.org). She has been Beekeeper of the Year for the region (more than once, I think), represents beekeepers in the state government, and has been raising bees her entire life. I feel so truly blessed to have met her and even more so that she is my mentor.

Roberta came by on the morning I was getting the bees and together we inspected the hive. I learned how to look for American Foul Brood (AFB), a bacteria that once found in the hive, the state mandates that all equipment is burned to the ground. I had decided that if, in fact, the colony had perished because of AFB, then I would burn the equipment and give away my incoming bees. It was a sign that I shouldn’t keep bees … this year anyway.

Armed with a toothpick, Roberta pulled out frame after frame from the hive and picked apart the cells looking for dead bee larvae. We were covered in honey and dead bees; parts stuck to my fingers, bodies crunching under my feet. For some reason, it somehow never occurred to me that I would have to deal with dead bugs, let alone pull out bodies and examine them. I was squeamish for about 30 seconds and then it passed.

She taught me why the wax is different in color (light wax=honey comb, colored wax=brood comb) and that I should save everything.

This is propolis aka. bee glue. The bees collect pine tree sap and use it to glue things together in the hive. It has antiseptic properties and can be used to start fires. It needs to be removed from the hive before it builds up too much and makes taking apart the hive too difficult.

Turns out that the colony didn’t die from AFB, to the best of Roberta’s guess. She thinks that the colony lost their queen and then perished from the cold. However, she also pointed out that without a lab test, it isn’t possible to know whether or not they died from some sickness or perhaps from mites. But none of these things would affect the incoming colony. It was time to get some bees!

I did what any expectant mother would do. After cleaning up the hive and not really knowing what to do further with myself, I scrubbed my kitchen floor. Then, I took my father and drove to Greenwich to pick up my 3 lb. package of bees.

This is the box that they come in. You just walk up to the counter, they make you sign a piece of paper that says something like, “Yes, I do realize that I am about to drive away with a live box of angry bees…” and that is that. Technically we brought home 12,004 bees. Seems that there were some extras OUTSIDE of the box that decided to join in on the adventure. I was fine with it since they were sticking to the box, most likely because they could smell the queen inside and just wanted in. However we watched a guy with 2 boxes in the parking lot sweeping the extra bees off of his box, so we decided to as well. Bad idea. We were just aggravating the extra bees and they were now flying into the car, pissed off. Best to let well enough alone and just get in the car. And drive the 45 minutes home. With 4 loose, pissed off bees in the car. Excellent.

You think you drive carefully, then you put a live box of 12,004 bees in your car. I think it took me 15 minutes just to pull out of the parking lot onto the main roadway.

We took the bees to my parent’s house, which is where the main gardens are located. I had decided to put the bees there since:
1. They need early morning sunlight and there are no real decent places at my house for this.
2. The main gardens would do well to have extra pollinators.
3. My children cannot be trusted. See Dangermouse in the photo above.

I quickly suited up while Brian set up the hive. We painted sugar water onto the cage of bees to calm them down and then it was time to move them to the hive.

Mom, Dad, Brian… everyone seemed jumpy to me, but me. I grounded myself and while everyone was at the equipment I just stood with the bees in the box. I put a hand about 1 inch away from each end of the box. I could literally feel the energy of the bees. It felt like holding sparkling water between my hands. So very cool.

Mom read the instructions on how to install the package of bees (while standing a good distance away) while I fumbled through the motions and Brian and Dad watched (while standing a good distance away). This is me shaking the bees into the hive…

The things I read said that they fall like oil from a can and you shake them like trying to get a pick out of a guitar. I don’t remember that part. I remember thinking, “I love you, I love you, I love you…” which is what Dakota Fanning’s character says in The Secret Life Of Bees when she first comes into contact with them.

After putting in the bees, I replaced a couple of missing frames and then set in the queen. Please note my airtight bee suit. Particularly where the jacket is riding up in the back and pulling my shirt with it so that my back is exposed and leaving a lovely access point into my pants. Perhaps I should have ‘The Accidental Farm’ tattooed right there.

After putting in the queen cage, replacing the inner and outer upper cover and leaning the remaining bees in the cage up against the hive, my job was done. I just stood there. I didn’t want to leave. Standing there, amidst a fog of bees, I felt peace and exhilaration. Each time I go snorkeling I feel this same way. I am witness to a wild community of life, one that I am not a part of, but which continues to commune around me. I feel connected in a way that brings me incredible joy and respect for life on this planet. I want to share it with everyone, but in a minute because for now this moment is just mine. I silently welcome the bees to their new home and pray that they find what they need. I am grateful and again, so truly, truly blessed.

Tags: Bees, Farming, Honey