Bees had been in
the headlines in 2008/9. We were shown evidence on TV and in
newspapers that it was apparent that the bee population globally was
declining and at the time my lost love (who at that time was not lost)
was working for a wildlife cause. She was always talking about how she
was raising money for extraordinarily expensive cycle wracks or wind
turbines for visitors centres which I suppose I thought (in my
ignorance) was not 'cutting edge' enough in the combat the threats to
wildlife (although she did do, in my opinion, some great work for
snails and mice)*.
Anyhow, I saw this dude keeping bees in Herne as I have already explained when the penny dropped; I wanted to 'do my bit'.
I immediately spoke to everyone I knew about it. I watched half a dozen short films on You Tube and bought a copy of 'Beekeeping for Dummies'. I remember learning from various amateur American bee keepers who were looking forward to a 'New World Order', teaching me how to install a swarm in to a new hive, ready to survive after the apocalypse.
I recovered my lean-to with ply instead of congregated plastic in order that I could walk on it. I then installed the empty brand new hive on top of that. My lost love was not too impressed, I don't think.
Now I had read that one can buy a new colony of bees in a box for around £150.00, but I did not really have that sort of money washing around. I therefore contacted a variety of local authorities and registered myself as willing to capture swarms.
Within two weeks I received a call on my mobile phone from a local council. A swarm had been spotted on St Dunstan's and was congregating on the front of a Thai food wholesalers.
It was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and I was at work for the homeless charity. I was due in a meeting at 3:30. I raced to to get home, pick up my suit and get back to the cathedral town I was based in where the swarm had been spotted.
The pulled up to the shop and went in to have it confirmed where the swarm was.
The Asian woman behind the counter first confirmed "are you the bee man?" and after I nodded, shouted at me that the swarm had attached itself to the outside of the shop. Upon closer inspection it was clear that the swarm had targeted a yellow graphic which was stuck on the outside of the window.
It is fair to say that beyond the bee suit and the wellies, I was not too prepared for what I was there to deal with. I am however a big advocate for 'confidence' and I had watched a host of You Tube cretins demonstrating how to catch a swarm. I therefore decided to improvise and went across the road to the pet store asking for a box (in the bee suite who would refuse?), then I crossed the road to the hairdressers and borrowed a spray mister.
Taking a cardboard file from my briefcase and having filled the mister with 50/50 sugar and water, I began to approach the swarm. Cars stopped to take images of me using their mobile phones (it was a bit weird). I sprayed the swarm liberally with the cocktail and totally focussed on licking the sugary substance from their neighbours the bees did not mind being scraped with my cardboard file into the box in great chunks of saturated masses, dropping one moving blob after another. It is fair to say that I was extremely nervous and exited.
I closed the box, taped it up and went back to work. I got to my meeting but, filled with adrenaline, I was useless. I told my three bosses what I had done that afternoon and that I had a box of 30,000 bees in the trunk of my car. They cancelled the meeting and agreed that I could get off home in order to install my swarm into my first hive.
On my way home, I telephoned the grandma of my lost love to see if she had a hair curler which I could use to install the queen (I now know that this is overkill, anyhow having seen the system on You Tube I thus emulated their example).
Grandma gave me a couple of small pink plastic curlers which I could use to cage the queen and blocking the ends with marsh-mellow, I could guarantee the swarm would not fly off again.
When I got home, I parked behind my house (Note: immediately behind my house there is a public hall). People where starting to congregate for a meeting as I arrived and I thought I should explain to them what I was up to.
By the time I had installed the queen and then was shaking the contents of the box into my hive, there were about 20 people 'watching'. The whole ting turned into a public spectacle.
My bees were successfully installed.
*Although it might have been less than decisive, it was more than incidental that I thought my commitment to bees was assisting the cause my lost love was working for and thereby was reinforcing my love for her. In fact, it just meant I was busy building hives and frames in her parent’s garage, when she wanted to go for a walk on a sunny Sunday afternoon with the dogs and her boy. So my effort was just distracting me when I really only wanted to be with her. As I have already described, I had a residual yearning to keep bees but my wanting to create an insect-based common interest was a prime motivator.
Anyhow, I saw this dude keeping bees in Herne as I have already explained when the penny dropped; I wanted to 'do my bit'.
I immediately spoke to everyone I knew about it. I watched half a dozen short films on You Tube and bought a copy of 'Beekeeping for Dummies'. I remember learning from various amateur American bee keepers who were looking forward to a 'New World Order', teaching me how to install a swarm in to a new hive, ready to survive after the apocalypse.
I recovered my lean-to with ply instead of congregated plastic in order that I could walk on it. I then installed the empty brand new hive on top of that. My lost love was not too impressed, I don't think.
Now I had read that one can buy a new colony of bees in a box for around £150.00, but I did not really have that sort of money washing around. I therefore contacted a variety of local authorities and registered myself as willing to capture swarms.
Within two weeks I received a call on my mobile phone from a local council. A swarm had been spotted on St Dunstan's and was congregating on the front of a Thai food wholesalers.
It was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and I was at work for the homeless charity. I was due in a meeting at 3:30. I raced to to get home, pick up my suit and get back to the cathedral town I was based in where the swarm had been spotted.
The pulled up to the shop and went in to have it confirmed where the swarm was.
The Asian woman behind the counter first confirmed "are you the bee man?" and after I nodded, shouted at me that the swarm had attached itself to the outside of the shop. Upon closer inspection it was clear that the swarm had targeted a yellow graphic which was stuck on the outside of the window.
It is fair to say that beyond the bee suit and the wellies, I was not too prepared for what I was there to deal with. I am however a big advocate for 'confidence' and I had watched a host of You Tube cretins demonstrating how to catch a swarm. I therefore decided to improvise and went across the road to the pet store asking for a box (in the bee suite who would refuse?), then I crossed the road to the hairdressers and borrowed a spray mister.
Taking a cardboard file from my briefcase and having filled the mister with 50/50 sugar and water, I began to approach the swarm. Cars stopped to take images of me using their mobile phones (it was a bit weird). I sprayed the swarm liberally with the cocktail and totally focussed on licking the sugary substance from their neighbours the bees did not mind being scraped with my cardboard file into the box in great chunks of saturated masses, dropping one moving blob after another. It is fair to say that I was extremely nervous and exited.
I closed the box, taped it up and went back to work. I got to my meeting but, filled with adrenaline, I was useless. I told my three bosses what I had done that afternoon and that I had a box of 30,000 bees in the trunk of my car. They cancelled the meeting and agreed that I could get off home in order to install my swarm into my first hive.
On my way home, I telephoned the grandma of my lost love to see if she had a hair curler which I could use to install the queen (I now know that this is overkill, anyhow having seen the system on You Tube I thus emulated their example).
Grandma gave me a couple of small pink plastic curlers which I could use to cage the queen and blocking the ends with marsh-mellow, I could guarantee the swarm would not fly off again.
When I got home, I parked behind my house (Note: immediately behind my house there is a public hall). People where starting to congregate for a meeting as I arrived and I thought I should explain to them what I was up to.
By the time I had installed the queen and then was shaking the contents of the box into my hive, there were about 20 people 'watching'. The whole ting turned into a public spectacle.
My bees were successfully installed.
*Although it might have been less than decisive, it was more than incidental that I thought my commitment to bees was assisting the cause my lost love was working for and thereby was reinforcing my love for her. In fact, it just meant I was busy building hives and frames in her parent’s garage, when she wanted to go for a walk on a sunny Sunday afternoon with the dogs and her boy. So my effort was just distracting me when I really only wanted to be with her. As I have already described, I had a residual yearning to keep bees but my wanting to create an insect-based common interest was a prime motivator.
Nice tale there!
Hope things are going well on the great journey!
Posted by: Laurie Andrews | Tuesday, January 04, 2011 at 04:04 PM