I may have lost the hive in my garden, but I feel like I have gained so many other things. I feel like my interest and passion for bees has spread; I've become an evangelist among my friends and family, colleagues and community this summer.
It has become a "thing to do" on Sundays; the long drive up to Paula's, a restaurant, a hive inspection, and a glass of Prosecco in the garden. What a joy!
And the news so far is all good. First it seems that Paula's patience has paid off and the Queen has come into her own. She is laying like a dream and the hive is brimming with brood. So I managed to contact the suppliers of my Slovenian Queen-in-the-Royal-Mail and rearrange things - they were very nice and promised to hold one for me if I ever needed another.
Secondly, there is no longer an issue with mould - although I suspect that's got to do with the fantastic temperatures that keep on rising. It may reappear in autumn and winter so I won't worry about it till then.
Last week I got to Paula's too late to do the inspection before lunch. "Oh dear" I thought, "I'll be drunk when I look in there later - not a good idea!" But I took a chance. I didn't drink very much at all and slipped away from the crowds in the pub early. I slipped into the house alone and crept down the garden to take a preliminary look at the hive. Everything looked busy and well.
I put on my new one-piece overall beekeeper suit (I'll explain more about that later) and my wellies and galumphed my way down through clouds of smoke from the smoker. But I didn't smoke the hive. I never do these days. I usually pump a bit of smoke all over me, and most particularly my gloves. It tends to keep the bees from stinging me, I've found. Bee Aversion Therapy.
In that glorious afternoon heat I opened the hive leisurely. It felt kind of nice to be alone although I do love sharing my bee-joys with Paula; she is so fiercely protective of them and so interested. This felt like a little treasure, a chocolate treat not to be shared, what a funny thought. Perhaps its simply that I didn't feel On Show, so I didn't do what I normally do - show off, and end up coming a cropper (lol).
And the bees were just lovely, lovely, lovely. I opened the honey super and all the foundation had been drawn into honeycomb, and the honey was starting to build up. How wonderful! I removed the super and the Queen Excluder (remembering to put it the right way round). I checked in the top half of the brood-and-a-half box and all looked well. Still no sight of Her Majesty, but rice grain eggs were there, among the masses of sealed brood.
And then down into the main brood box. I could feel the hummmm around me begin to rise gently in volume but still, they were absolutely calm, staying on the frames, hardly flying up and no confrontations at all. I could feel my heart singing, my joy-sensors rising and the sun on my skin turned to sweat; all combining to give me a sensory endorphin rush of pleasure that brings a tear to my eye. It's all to do with summer and sunshine and happiness - the bees have come to epitomise the sun on my skin in a way I find hard to describe.
Everywhere the hive was brimming with bees and brood, with no trace of Queen Cells or problems. So I sealed it all up again and walked a little distance away, to strip off the suit and sit down on a bench and smile, dripping with sweat, happy.
I've joined my nearby Beekeepers' Society in addition to my beloved Enfield. Recently I joined them on a Sunday morning and spent a pleasurable hour inspecting other - calm - bees. Well. Thank god they were calm. My bee jacket was so decrepit I've lost all the elastic in it and within 20 minutes, I had a bee in there. The other beekeepers were newbies and must've been suitably distressed and hilarified to see me trying to stay calm while walking away and wildly digging around in my suit for a stray buzzing bee. Eventually I just stripped the bloody thing off and the poor bee, probably dizzy and completely bewildered, flew away. No sting.
I was impressed. Calm bees, alright!
And that's why I have a grand new, brand new all-over beesuit. Ten sizes too large :D
