I discovered one of my honey bee colonies dead about a month ago. (See A Winter-Die Off and this video for the details.) My guess was the colony starved to death because it didn’t have enough honey. Judging from what I saw during the post mortem examination I did today, I was right.
|Starved out / dead bees in honey cells. (March 10, 2013.)|
P.S.: I would have had a more detailed post with photos and a video uploaded by now, but I just spent the last three hours trying to get my Picasa web albums to display photos like it always has for me. I had a simple, streamlined method of posting photos through Picasa that’s worked perfectly for years. But a recent effort by Google to integrate photos into Google Plus (their version of Facebook) has messed up the whole thing. I don’t like Facebook but I do like Google Plus, so it’s too bad they had to blow it. Anyway, I’ve managed to get to everything back to normal, but I don’t know how I did it and I don’t feel like wasting anymore time on it. I have little patience for constant upgrades that usually fix things that aren’t even broke. I might post a video next weekend when I’m in a better mood. In the meantime, here’s a slide show of what I found:
Read on . . . »
I’ve decided to pull the plug on Mud Songs instead of letting it fizzle out and die. Here’s why: When I first began beekeeping in 2010, I kept my hives in my urban backyard and was engaged in a daily fascination with the bees because they were constantly present. I saw the bees every single day, even in the winter, and loved every minute of it. I was glad to share my experiences so others might learn from my stumbles and bumps and little successes along the way. In the summer of 2012, though, I had to move the hives to a rural location because my next door neighbour complained to the city about the bees buzzing around her yard too much. Pretty much overnight, the fuel that fired most of my interest in beekeeping — the constant presence of the bees — was gone. My time with the bees dropped from several hours a day to maybe a few hours a month and none of that time involved the leisurely observations — watching the bees all day — that I was accustomed to when the bees were in my backyard. So that’s it. Even though it’s more work than pleasure these days, I’ll continue to keep bees. But until I have them on my own property again and can reconnect with the fascination I experience from being around them all the time, I don’t see the point in maintaining this web site. The driving force behind most of what I’ve done with Mud Songs is gone. The bees are gone. Not completely gone, but gone enough. With any luck, though, I’ll be back in business within a year or two, chilling with the bees in a different backyard like I used to. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Take care.
January 17th, 2014
St. John’s, Newfoundland
Read on . . . »
Some quick shots of bees on leaves and things. It’s just left over footage from a camera-focusing test I did earlier last summer.
One of my six colonies either has a mouse in the hive that’s scaring all the bees to the very top of the hive, or the colony is completely starved for honey. Either way it seems like most of the bees (and they’re grumpy) are clustered above the top bars and living entirely off dry sugar I added about a month ago. The bees are so crowded above the top bars, they’re constantly walking in and out around the top entrance, as can be seen in this photo I took during my lunch break today:
I also noticed many dead bees in the snow in front of the hive:
Not that dead bees in the snow are unusual, but none of the other hives have many dead bees nearby, hardly any. This does not bode well.
Read on . . . »
If you’re a colour blind beekeeper who keeps dropping your hive tools in the grass, here’s a little trick that should help you spot said hive tool in the grass: YELLOW DUCT TAPE.
I should have taken a photo of one of the hive tools in the grass so people who are colour blind can see how well the yellow stands out, but you get the idea. Blue isn’t bad either, but yellow creates an excellent contrast.
THE FOLLOWING WAS UPDATED SINCE ORIGINALLY POSTED.
I used to add dry sugar to my hives in January or February following what some call The Mountain Camp Method, but this year I decided to add sugar around the same time I wrapped my hives, in late November. Why not? I have several reasons for adding the sugar early — the main reason is I don’t want to see another colony starve to death — but ultimately it doesn’t hurt to put the sugar on early and it saves me the trouble of having to do it in the middle of winter with snow all around. So yeah, why not? Here’s a video that shows how I did it.
This is probably the last time I’ll post a video about the Mountain Camp Method. There’s not much else to see.
I also mention in the video (at the 58sec mark) how one of my hives was full of exceptionally nasty bees until I moved the colony far away from my other colonies and just like that they settled down to become the nicest bunch of bees around. This is just speculation, but for now on whenever I come across an especially defensive colony, I’ll try moving it way off by itself, far from any other colonies, before I resort to requeening.
ADDENDUM (Jan. 16/14): It’s come to my attention that covering the entire top bars with sugar isn’t a good idea because then you can’t see down into the frames to see how the bees are doing. I knew that last year but forgot about it this year. So don’t do what I did. Cover only the back two-thirds or so of the top bars.
A mouse got inside my city hive because I waited too long to put on mouse-proofing mesh.
From what I can tell, the mouse (or mice) was in the hive for a long time and scared the bees, queen and all, into a honey super that I had placed above the inner cover during a late fall feeding.
Read on . . . »
I created two nucs for a friend earlier this summer. He used a frame feeder to feed the bees sugar syrup all summer and now the bees in each hive have filled all the frames — minus two frames taken up by the frame feeder.
Question: How does he get the bees to work the final two frames with the frame feeder in the way? Answer: Leave the frame feeder in and just keep swapping out frames until the bees stop taking down syrup. Then remove the frame feeder and replace it with capped honey/syrup. Here’s the step-by-step answer:
• Keep the feeder where it is and let the bees go to work on the empty frame.
• When the new frame is full, pull another frame of syrup/honey and repeat the process until the bees stop taking down syrup.
• Make sure the feeder never goes empty.
If he’s lucky, he’ll have three or four extra frames of capped syrup/honey put aside at the end of it all.
• Remove the frame feeder and replace it with two frames of syrup/honey. Done.
Keep any extra frames of syrup-honey for emergency or spring feeding.
The fine print: Place empty frames between fully drawn frames. Shift frames around to make this happen if necessary. Pull two frames at a time if the bees are working fast and furious. You might as well insulate and wrap your hives for winter after this, because other than adding a mouse-proofing mesh, what else is there to do? Cancel that. You might want to add dry sugar before winter kicks in.
If you don’t own or don’t want to bother with a hive top feeder, you could feed your bees like this in the fall to top them up before the winter. You’d start by removing two frames of honey to make room for the frame feeder. Then you’d have to put them back once the bees were done taking down syrup. I haven’t tried it, but yeah… that could work.
Frame feeders aren’t practical for people with a large number of hives because they may need to be refilled more than once a week at the height of summer. But they’re perfect for new beekeepers because it gives them an excuse to look inside the hives and see what’s going on without disturbing the bees too much.
P.S.: The above method of topping up a hive or building up a nuc with a frame feeder may seem obvious. But the obvious is easily overlooked. How often have you heard a beekeeper say, “Why didn’t I think of that?” (I wrote this post because I didn’t think of it until someone suggested it to me.)
(For beginner beekeepers in Newfoundland.)
I was asked by someone in Newfoundland about what books they could read before they get into beekeeping. My response got into more detail than I anticipated, so I’ll reproduce it here for the general edification of my legions of fans. But before I get into it, let me lay down a couple of confessions for you. (It’s okay to skip this part.) Confession Number 1: I don’t read many beekeeping books these days because I’m tired of reading beekeeping books. I’m tired of it for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I went nuts with beekeeping research when I got into it in 2009. Many beekeepers are obsessed and get drawn into beekeeping compulsively. It takes up all their free time. It’s always on their mind. That was me. But I eventually got over the obsessive-compulsive stage and now I only read beekeeping books at my leisure. I should change the name of this blog to The Leisurely Beekeeper. Secondly, my interest in honey bees took a serious dip last year after I was forced to move my hives to a rural location. When the bees were in my backyard, I was engaged in a daily fascination with them because they were there, constantly present. I loved it. But now I only see them a couple of hours a week, if that, and I rarely have time to sit and watch them like I used to. So the fuel that fired most of my interest in beekeeping — the constant presence of the bees — isn’t there. I still like beekeeping, but it ain’t what it used to be. Confession Number 2: I don’t mind recommending reading material for beginners, but… I don’t like to give advice and I’ve become suspicious of many beekeepers who do. Unless their advice has been tempered by at least a decade of trial and error, chances are, if they’re eager to give advice, I kinda get the feeling they might be feeding their egos. It’s easy to do. (Check out Honey Bee Suite for more on this topic.) And just because I have a beekeeping blog doesn’t mean I know what I’m talking about. I started this blog so others could learn from my experiences and my mistakes (notice how I emphasize mistakes). So to summarize my confessions: I don’t read many beekeeping books and I don’t like to give advice. Okay then…
So you have only a rudimentary understanding of beekeeping, you live in Newfoundland, and you’re wondering if there are any good books for beginners that you can read before you start ordering hives and bees and all that jazz. Well, I can’t think of a single book that covers all the bases, but my top recommendation for beginners online is David Burns’s Basic Beekeeping lessons. The preambles to his lessons can go off on various tangents, but the actual beekeeping lessons are the best I’ve found anywhere — in any book or online. He could easily sell the lessons in book form and make a mint. I studied his lessons before I did anything and referred to them all throughout my first year of beekeeping.
Read on . . . »
In my continuing efforts to document flowers in and around St. John’s that seem to attract honey bees, allow me to introduce a viney plant we call Morning Glory that blooms around this time of the year. Here’s a photo from September 5th, 2011, proof that honey bees go for it:
I first recognized Morning Glory as a pollen and nectar source for the bees after saw what I thought were Mutant Bees. Here’s another shot of Morning Glory from September 18th, 2013:
It’s also known as Field Bindwind.