Spring Bees

Are we through the worst of the winter.

When I looked at the bees the other day the warmer weather had drawn them out to forage and, thanks to the incredibly mild year, there seems to be a lot of blossom on the trees and spring flowers are opening earlier than you might expect.

I rang Karina to tell her the hive had survived the summer and she warned me that the same happened to her last year but come Good Friday they found the hive had died. I cannot begin to imagine the sorrow she must have felt. You become extremely attached to what is essentially a box full of insects. Somehow there has been a synergy between bees and humans for millenia and we remain connected.

It seems that, however much they take in in the autumn (and if you remember our bees had about 21 kilos of sugar syrup over September and October) if the queen lays early then it becomes a race to find sufficient nectar to make into honey. The bees were rushing in with their pollen covered yellow trousers and evidently this is a sign of new brood. Although they store a great deal of pollen in the capped wax cells, they still prefer to feed new brood on fresh food. A commendable approach. One I wish i'd been able to use for my new family.

The winter isn't over yet for the bees.

Yours pensively
Katherine

Our First Look in the Hive 2014: And Finally Me in a Bee Keeping Suit.

Over 10 Degrees Celsius at Last.

We have been aching to see inside the hive for the last month or so. I hefted the hive (the process of assessing the weight of the hive by lifting one side) It seemed a lot more maneuverable than it was last year and I cam promise you there has been no weight training going on in the interim.

What has happened in the interim is that I have acquired a bee keeping suit that fits a little better. It's still not an ABBA moment but at the very least I can bend down to pick up a dropped hive tool which is a significant improvement. 

You can't really see much here except me in what looks suspiciously like a babygro on the left hand side. I'm still using two rubber washing up gloves worn on top of each other to compensate for a lack of proper bee keeping gloves. Alex has proper long leather gauntlets but he's very kind and doesn't laugh.

We had planned to open the hive in the morning but when I checked the temperature it was only 8 degrees. The wind was blowing and it looked like threatening rain. Also, I felt like hell, so I went back to bed. The sun came out in the afternoon and as it pushed a balmy 14 degrees C Alex turned up to take me through the process. We smoked down the hive and took off the super and crown board. Underneath the bees were active but not overly upset at our intrusion. There was no agressive flying and the bees just fell to the joyful job of munching on honey.

Here you can see some bees enjoying the excess that they've built to fill up the spaces. We'd already scraped a fair bit off. You can see that most of the bees here are quite dark apparently this means they are winter bees. Some of them have been flying out for supplies and bringing back their golden pollen treasure hoards.

Here you get a better idea of how much they've built to fill the spaces between the frames.

This picture shows a frame propped up against the side of the hive while which gives us space to look at another without any unfortunate bee squishing. You can see the new honey built around the central section. It is common for the queen to lay her eggs in a rugby ball pattern through the middle of many frames. This means they are at the centre of the hive which is the warmest and the worker bees build honey comb around them in order to but insulate and provide stores for the new brood and the queen.

And here I am proudly and joyfully holding, not dropping, a comb full of honey and covered in bees. It's a strange thing to know all those bees could suddenly decide they needed to protect themselves. But here they are, chowing down on good old honey. And did I mention I wasn't panicking?

The net result was that the hive was clean, industrious and had supplies. The workers are already bringing back pollen and nectar for the year ahead and the queen has commenced spring laying. As long as the weather doesn't suddenly run headlong into an unexpected winter we should be able to avoid feeding them and be able to start putting on supers to collect the honey.

Watch this space.

Happy Hunting

Katherine

Whooping Cough: I thought I'd published this but forgot so here it is 6 weeks late. I'm quite better btw.

At My Age?

I was sent home from work last week because, frankly, I couldn't draw breath and I couldn't hold a conversation which, in retail, makes you worse than useless. I thought it was the tail end of an annoying cough but since I couldn't breathe I made an emergency appointment with the GP. He gave me some steroids and antibiotics and told me to come back on Friday. Cough still no better Friday so the GP gave me higher doses of steroids and told me to stay off work. Monday still no better. The coughing was beyond ridiculous so I went back at which point the GP said "Whooping Cough"

But I'm too old for whooping cough and anyway I was vaccinated. Oh and although I can't draw breath I'm not whooping. Just going blue in the face and choking a bit. 

I'm still waiting for the blood test results but it seems I probably do have what is considered a childhood disease. However it isn't a childhood disease. It is simply the case that complications are more likely in childhood and because a child can't express itself the paroxysms are particularly distressing for parent and child alike.

For those of you unfamiliar with the arc of whooping cough or Bordatella pertussis here is the skinny:

Initially the disease presents as a head cold, possibly a bit of a cough and a runny nose. There may be fever and there will probably be a headache. This will last a few days maybe up to two weeks but then seem to improve. During this period you are at your most infectious and likely to pass it on to friends and co workers who are susceptible.

After a few days the cough begins in ernest and this is referred to as the paroxysmal phase. During this time talking, breathing, changes in air temperature (and did I mention?) breathing can all set off paroxysms of coughing. In about 50% of cases these end in a desperate gasp for breath which produces the characteristic "whoop" which gives the illness it's name. According to a practitioner I know a good immune system can prevent the whoop but cant fight off the bug. I definitely don't have the whoop.

The paroxysmal phase can last anything from 2 weeks to 8 weeks. I'm taking loads of herbs so I'm hoping they will enable my immune system to keep this to a minimum but I discover that in a number of countries it's known as the 100 day cough. Which brings me to the convalescent phase which I hope is where i'm heading but can apparently take from three to 6 months.

Whooping cough is starting to make a comeback.  Another herbalist freind had it last year and when i mentioned it to a friend from the allotment she said someone else she knew had it. So I looked up the figures.

That's just the UK but the trend is the same all over the world. It is suggested that this apparent trend is simply the result of better awareness and testing but I can assure you that GP's knew whooping cough when they saw it in the past. But who knows, perhaps loads of adults had it and didn't know because they didn't make the noise? Who knows but make sure you know the symptoms because if you catch it early antibiotics or a whacking great dose of crushed garlic might abort it in it's tracks. Once you get to the paroxysmal phase the antibiotics just stop others getting it. You're stuffed.

Things that make it better. Hot dead sea salt baths. Sitting outside in the cold air with a chicken on my lap. Hot lemon and honey and cinnamon. Not doing much. Eating cake. Cake is proving to be specific for suspected whooping cough. It's also specific for my waistline but after all, it's medicine......

Dreams of Summer

The Bees Venture Out.

It has been cold and damp, mostly damp. Britain has been in the grip of the worst rain storms and flooding since records began. Now records began about 60 years ago but all the same the Somerset Levels are no longer a valley but a sea. In fact they've been a sea since before Christmas. However the stoical people of the west country didn't complain until Dawlish railway station fell in the sea and great lumps of ballast were thrown onto the high street by the waves. 

Politicians finally got their wellies on when the Thames started to rise a bit. Once people in the Thames Valley were getting wet feet tories could see their constituencies being reduced to silt and finally pulled their fingers out. Apparently the environment agency had been told that every pound they spent had to reap an 8 to 1 reward. That is to say if they spent £1 it had to return an £8 benefit in economic terms. Consequently farmland in the west country was less of a priority than Tory voters' homes  near the Thames.

And it seems that central southerners are a bunch of whingeing nancies. There they were on telly in their galoshes "We have heard there could be a lot of rain tonight. What are the government going to do about it?" while the West Country folk were taking the kids to school in a rowing boat and dressing them in waders "..Yes" said one woman "It's gettting a bit tiresome now. The sofa floated away and the cat wont come down off the roof but we're making the best of it" 

A friend of mine who lives by the sea but works in Exeter rang me in frustration saying it had taken her nearly 2 hours to get to work because the flooding had finally damaged her car exhaust and she'd had to go to work by bus. In london people take the day off if theres a danger of the wrong kind of leaves on the line. After all little Tarquin couldn't be expected to have to shake the dew off his jacket at school. He might catch a cold.

Enough with the sarcasm. It has been terrible. People have died and friends have suffered. Our garden is waterlogged but it looks worse than it is because agent chicken has completely defoliated the environs. However the clever little cluckers are laying an egg a day each now so they have earned the right to be a little demanding. We're very proud. They haven't really enjoyed the underwater aspect but we can proudly say that the only part of our back yard that isn't muddy is their Chicken Run. Cluckingham Palace is a Des Res indeed.

Bees

The ladies have weathered the winter. It hasn't been cold but it's been wet and that can cause problems of it's own. This morning when I let the hens out I ventured over to look at the hive. Over the last couple of months it has been very quiet, just the occasional brave soul checking to see all was clear but today you could hear the buzz from the back step.

When I looked out of our bedroom window I could see hundreds of bees drawing lazy spirals around the hive as they orientated themselves to their environment. At this stage in the year they may well be new bees who are venturing out for the first time ever. I know that bees communicate their location easily to their compadres but it is amazing to think that bees who have been quietly working away in the hive since their birth can know what is expected of them without ever having seen the outside world.

But for today, in the early spring sun they looked like drops of sunshine from heaven and made me dream of summer.

Feeding your chickens.

Variety is the spice of life.

Today I was mugged in my own back yard. However I'll get back to how this happened.

Having decided to render the remains of the beef suet I got for the Christmas puddings I was left with some beef fat crackling. Vegetarians, apologies for the mental image,  it's not pretty but I get such things from a local butcher who humanely slaughters his own animals which are pasture fed, locally raised and free range. I believe in using the whole carcass and not throwing away the bits we're not used to eating. 

Back to the suet crackling. Yesterday we introduced the hens to bacon rind. They behaved as though we'd never fed them before. Chickens eat anything. They have particular fondness for live protein-worms, ants, grubs, butterflies etcetera. We are looking forward to a reduction in cabbage white numbers next season. So we got the suet out of the freezer and put it in the oven on a low temperature (80 degrees C) to render or melt for about 6 hours. At the end of that time we had a tray of melted fat and the crackling. 

This morning (OK this afternoon-I'm still not that well. I didn't drag myself out of bed till after midday and even then not for very long) I chopped up the cooled fatty crackling, put it in a bowl and, taking my life in my hands put my new welly shoes on and opened the back door. 

Within seconds the bowl had been torn from my hands and four chickens were noisily fighting over the bigger pieces. There was clucking, there was pecking there was actual SCREECHING. This morning, even early afternoon it was much colder than recent days. The frost still silvered the grass and chickens need extra calories to keep themselves warm.

I'm hoping this will reduce their tendency to head for the cat food which-I'm starting to discover-does not always come from the most reliable sources, however renowned the brand. A friend of mine who is a packaging expert and has spent many hours in human and pet food factories said that while unpleasant human food factories do have a genuine commitment to hygiene. In his words "Pet food factories? Not so much." oh-oh "I saw 3 different types of cockroaches. When I raised the matter they told me it all cooks in"

I'm starting to question whether I want to used any brand of pre made food especially since the oldest cat (around 10 years old) has, since being placed on a kibble and meat diet, been diagnosed with diabetes. Reading around can be quite uncomfortable-I have to remember that for every thesis there is an equal and opposite thesis but I'm getting the idea that at the very least a diet should be SPECIES APPROPRIATE if you want to avoid health problems.

The plan with the chickens is to use the rendered suet to make home produced fat balls containing seeds, grains, meal worms and other tasty treats to keep them happy in the winter. I have yet to work out whether it's cheaper to make my own but that isn't the only criteria at play.

Whatever we're doing we're doing reasonably right by the chooks. If you compare the above picture with earlier ones you can see the healthy upright red combs on their heads. This is distinctive of vitality and health (as is their turn of speed down the garden at the first rattle of a feed bucket) These bossy, glossy healthy ladies are certainly much happier than the day we collected them by which time they had no doubt improved dramatically since their liberation.

Watch this space.

Happy New Day.

Katherine xxx

Industrial Action from the Chickens

Protests from our feathered friends.

I'm not feeling terribly well at the moment. I either have a chest infection or the one I had before Christmas has upset my airways causing asthma like symptoms. Consequently I've been sofa surfing and relegated to bed for the last couple of days. I don't like it and I get bored. However it would appear I am not alone.

Yesterday the girls dispatched Bob to our room with the information that if we want egg production to continue we are just going to have to consider more access to the house. They have taken to standing at the back door pecking at it if we're inside in view. Alternatively they stand on the conservatory window sill clucking.

Apparently yesterday Bob went out with the pail of meal worms and exciting corn type treats. John jumped on him the moment his arm was out of the door, Henrietta followed suit, Mavis pecked at his feet and Beatrice took the opportunity to dash through his legs and make a chicken-line for the cat food. Thankfully yesterday's kibble was salmon based so no nasty proto-cannibalistic experiences to worry about.

I will digress here a little regarding feeding regimes for chickens. As you will know from previous posts our back garden is no longer the haven of freely growing herbal joy it was in the summer. The combination of AGENT CHICKEN and heavy rain have reduced much of the ground to a Somme like battle ground of mud and stones. As a result we've been supplementing the chickens diet with dried meal worms, spinach and herbs picked from the allotment. I decided to look up recommended feeding protocols and found all the feed sites suggest you only give treats in the afternoon to ensure they get the lions share of their nutrition from the layers pellets. My dearly beloved made the point, To quote Christine Keeler. "They would say that, Wouldn't they" 

(Thanks to Getty Images-I chose not to use that picture of the lady)

After all what benefit is there to the feed companies if your chickens munch happily on free range pasture, insects and kitchen scraps? The feed pellet manufacturers market their feed and refer to other types of nutrition as TREATS. Its not like chocolate. It's all food and it's not surprising if the chickens have a preference for the nicer stuff. 

Please note these are not my girls! There will be more and newer pictures to follow however.

Regarding Christine Keeler: While I was looking for a picture of the famous lady I happened upon an unflattering paparazzo effort of her in her 70's pulling a shopping trolley. Interesting that while I acknowledge is demise in 2006 I could find no such image of Profumo. Rather he received a medal from the Queen in 1975 and attended Margaret Thatcher's 70th Birthday party. As I'm currently prone to a bit of soap boxing  I think on balance I'll stick to looking at pictures of chickens.

Happy Thursday

Katherine

2014 The Year Begins

Or "How the back garden was won"

Happy New Year to everyone. 

Among the many things I do working in retail during the festive season has rather interrupted the flow with this blog. SO time to catch up a little.

There are still bees in the hive. Their numbers have dwindled though the number of tiny corpses on the garden has diminished. We can still see the bees flying around on warmer days and when I hefted the hive a couple of days ago it still seemed heavy. There is nothing we can really do for them till mid February when, if the colony has been unusually active and used it's stores, we may have to feed them fondant. This is a solid sugar based food that rather resembles the ready roll icing you put on Christmas cakes but with a few more nutrients added.

Amazingly we have had very little cold weather so far. Largely in the UK we've had heavy rains and high winds. The chickens and the bees are reasonably well protected and the chicken run remains mud free. The same cannot be said of the garden. I'd just like to tell any new allotmenteers that a more effective way of clearing rough ground than digging or hiring a rotavator is to corral chickens in a confined space and leave them to it.

We had a little help in clearing the back beds from Joel however the chickens turned the soil over meticulously in their search for succulent morsels. Furthermore I am certain that insect life poses no further threat to our crops. Nor do grass or other plant life. More accurately we have a barren wasteland of mud with isolated outcrops of chicken poo. I'm sure that when it drier it will be both fertile and receptive to seeds. So will the chickens. No doubt battle will commence shortly as Bob came home with fruit tree saplings and the first vegetable seeds earlier today.

The chickens are hardly recognisable compared with the scrawny featherless creatures we collected from Brinsley Animal Rescue. They are fully feathered and strut around the place as though they own it. We have discovered a distressing tendency for them to head directly for cat food at the first opportunity. They have also made it clear that Layers Pellets are not their first choice of food. Layers pellets retail at between £13 an £20 for a 25 kilo sack in the uk. They prefer wild bird seed and dried meal worms Dried meal worms retail at around £8 for a 500g bucket. This is, frankly, taking the michael however since Bob says I can't take the lid off his worm farm if the chickens want extra meaty treats that wont cause mad chicken disease we'll have to suck up the cost of the dried worms.

Perhaps our greatest delight has been the sudden urge that first Henrietta and later John had to fly up onto our shoulders. We both felt honoured that our new feathered freinds liked and trusted us enough to come so close. As the garden has turned into a mud bath their urge to wipe their feet on something warm and dry has grown. It has become necessary to don head to foot protective clothing in order to exit the back door because the moment you do one or other of the feathered delights is stood on your lovely clean clothes, skin or hair proudly leaving their mark on you. The other day I was serving a customer in the shop when I realised I had muddy chicken foot prints on my wrist. Luckily I work in a soap shop and the customer saw the funny side.....

I hope each and every one of you had a wonderful festive season and that the new year is treating you well.

Love and Hope

Katherine