Learning by Experience

My mentor suggests not including any drawn comb in a new swarm's hive. They leave without any brood, housing, or food, and he thinks its best to let the bees build as they wish.

I noted, during my ill-advised attempt to make a split, that the frames of brood and honey had become noticeably lighter in the three days since I had moved the hive. The swarming bees had gorged on honey, which helped them survive the period of chaos during the swarm.

But last night, I grew so concerned for my bees, stopped up in a hive with only a quart of sugar water to help them start anew, along with whatever reserves might be in their little bodies.

I read about a method of feeding where a person takes a gallon ziploc and puts in three quarts of syrup (in the spring, one part sugar to one part honey). The bag rests in the hive, and the keeper cuts two inch and a half slits in the top. Apparently, I could put two of these bags on top at once, to allow the hive to eat a gallon and a half, but I started with a single gallon, plus another quart in the regular feeder.

I think I was concerned for nothing. The bees hadn't finished the quart I left for them, though they appeared to immediately slurp down the sugar water when it ran out of the bag while I cut the slits.

Midday, I went back, with more ziplocs of syrup. I cracked the lid and was shocked to hear the loud vibrant hum. They had eaten almost none of the syrup, and did not sound like they were ready to be peaceable in their hive. I closed the lid as fast as possible: no more swarms, thanks anyway!

Around dinner time, I wondered if the debris tray on the bottom would show if they were making wax, or orienting the way they should. When I checked, there were wax bits dropped, and they appeared to be oriented properly on one of the center frames. What a relief!

After 7pm, I decided the swarm had settled for the night at that time last night, so I hoped I could take off the guard for them, so any bees hanging around could join the hive inside.

Dozens of bees boiled out before I had removed all the pins, but I stood back and watched a beautiful thing.

The bees were orienting! These few foragers, ready to go to work in the morning, wanted to be sure they knew where their home was situated. Perhaps a hundred bees total flew out, most of them flying only a foot or two from the entrance of the hive.

This was what was missing yesterday. In the future, I will know how to tell if the swarm is ready to stay: if bees fly out and orient, they are feeling at home. Yesterday, a few bees flew in and out of the hive, but I can tell now that they were simply scout bees.

I could have hived the bees in the morning yesterday, then put the guard up so they could not fly out.

But I didn't have today's experience to show me what to expect, and none of the books mentioned how to tell if a swarm will stay.

I have learned a lot about beekeeping this week!

Totally changing subjects: the little boys found the dress up box today. While I did the dishes, they would appear periodically, with different outfits to show me. Sweeties.

And Jadon is our droll fellow. This morning, the boys had a treat, and one boy left the wrapper on the bed. Jadon said, "I should take this wrapper off the bed." He picked it up, the good helper, and promptly dropped it on the floor right next to the bed.

Then he looked at me and we laughed and laughed.

But perhaps the most classic Jadon statement came on Sunday morning. He had eaten some granola for breakfast, which he didn't really like much, so his stomach was most likely not full.

Driving to church requires a half hour on curvy back roads. While not prone to carsickness generally, the curves sometimes feel a bit worse: low blood sugar could be a factor.

I like to read books to the family as we drive. We currently are reading one of my favorite missionary autobiographies, In Search of the Source. The wife of the author took a malaria medicine that wiped out her bone marrow's white blood cell production, which caused gangrene to set in before she went into a coma. (The malaria medicine is no longer on the market.)

The book does a good job explaining how bad smelling gangrene can be, and though the wife recovered, it took a year, and skin grafts and multiple surgeries.

Jadon is one who turns white simply looking at a schematic drawing of the eye or the circulatory system, but I wasn't thinking of that reading the book.

When we parked, I noticed Jadon making little groaning noises. "Are you going to throw up?"

"Maybe." And he opened the door and threw up the small amount of granola he had eaten.

"Jadon, are you okay? Are you carsick?"

He groaned. "Too much gangrene."

A reasonable reason for vomiting if I've ever heard one.