When my old Nexus 4 smartphone bit the dust a few weeks ago, I finally had an excuse to buy a top of the line model with a quality slow-motion feature: the Samsung Galaxy S7. Yeah, big deal, it’s just another overpriced cell phone, a necessary evil of modern life. But it saves me the bother of shopping around for a new DSLR camera. As much as I would love a DSLR with quality lenses, this little smartphone camera is good enough for what I need most of the time. I’ll probably use it for all my media content for now on. Here are some short slo-mo clips I posted to Twitter as a test.
My healthiest honey bee colony, one that was always full of mean bees but has been playing extremely nice so far this year, is back to being mean. Any slight vibration on the hive and the bees come pouring out. I’m not sure what reactivated the mean gene, but these bees are definitely not playing nice anymore.
Defensive bees just beginning to pour out of a hive. (June 10, 2016.)
Things that may have triggered the mean gene (and I’m just making this up): Continue reading →
In my experience, it’s important to constantly feed the bees during the first year (in Newfoundland), but it’s also important to stop feeding them at a certain point in the spring so they don’t swarm. When I find drone comb gunking up the bottom of the frames in the spring, that’s my cue that the colony could potentially swarm. Queens can’t mate without drones. That’s why the first swarms usually coincide with the flight of the first drones. I could be wrong about all of this, but from what I’ve seen with my bees, it’s true. A colony won’t swarm without drones.
Destroyed drone comb between the brood boxes after inspection. (May 05, 2012.)
If the bees have two or three solid frames of honey in every box — enough to prevent them from starving — and drone comb is present, then I stop feeding. I don’t feed my bees if they have enough honey on their own anyway, and unless it’s a weak colony, I don’t usually feed past May 31st either because there’s usually enough natural nectar sources available by then (in my local climate), especially in the city of St. John’s that is heavily populated by maple trees. I also check my hives at least every two weeks until the end of June to make sure the queen has room to lay. Most beekeeping (beyond feeding) can be summed up with that one sentence: Make sure the queen has room to lay.
The following is probably the most detailed video of a hive inspection that I’ve posted since the dawn of Mud Songs. For everyone who couldn’t attend the informal beekeeping workshop I was ready put on today, this video shows what you missed (or would have missed if I’d gone ahead with the workshop). It’s a 24-minute video, longer than my usual videos, because I left in the all the parts with me yammering on about what I’m doing — exactly the kind of yammering I’d do if I was giving a workshop.
Whenever I spill honey outside or leave frames sticky with honey around on a warm sunny day, the bees usually descend and lap it up as quick as they can. But not today…
Honey and wax outside in the sun, the bees completely ignoring it. (May 16, 2016.)
That’s honey and goop left over from some deep frames I extracted yesterday. I posted a rough video of it on my Mud Songs Facebook page this morning:
I got to use my extractor yesterday for the first time since I bought it last year. You can see the honey being flicked out of the frames on the side of the extractor. The spinning basket nearly flew off by the time I was done because the vibrations caused most of the nuts and bolts to loosen up. Whether I get honey this year is a whole other matter, but if I do, I’m ready for it. This honey is left over from all the hives I lost to shrews last year. I’ll feed it to my nucs in July instead of syrup.
I don’t understand why the bees aren’t going crazy for the honey. I’ve never extracted honey this early in the year before. Maybe they’re too keen on collecting pollen because there’s very little nectar available at the moment and they’re just not in a honey-sucking state of mind. I even left a full frame of scraped open honey in the beeyard yesterday and they didn’t go near it. I tasted the honey. It’s good honey. I don’t know what gives.
To finalize The Sugar Bricks Quadrilogy, I present Episode IV: A New Hope:
Episode I: I mixed 12 parts sugar with 1 part water and let it harden in a deep dish tin pan.
Episode II: I came back about a day later and dumped out the dried sugar bricks.
Episode III: I slipped the sugar bricks into a few of my hives.
Episode IV: I demonstrate how the same process can be used to make easier-to-slip-in sugar cakes using small paper plates as a mold. Then I add some sugar cakes to a couple of hives. Conclusion: It works.
If I discovered starving bees crowded over the top bars in any of my hives, I would definitely choose this method instead of pouring dry sugar over the top bars. I’ll still dump dry sugar over the top bars in the early winter while the bees are down in the hives and out of my way, but these no-cook sugar bricks and sugar cakes seem ideal for adding sugar once the bees have risen up and are getting in my face.
No-cook sugar cakes drying in the oven (with only the light on). Feb. 27, 2016.
For me, the key to feeding bees emergency sugar in winter is to put the sugar in long before the bees need it (I do it in late November). It can be a gong show once the bees are hungry and clustering above the top bars, in which case these sugar bricks are pretty convenient.
I mixed the sugar bricks in Episode I and popped them out of the pan in Episode II. Now it’s time to slip them into the hives. There’s not much to see, but here it is:
If I do this again, I’ll make the bricks larger. Dry sugar on newspaper over the top bars is still my favourite method of feeding the bees in winter because a large amount of sugar dumped in all at once will keep the bees alive until spring and I won’t have to mess with them again. But I definitely appreciate the convenience of being able to slip the no-cook sugar bricks into the hives as a stopgap measure.
UPDATE (24 hours later): Well, the bees in at least one of the hives are eating the sugar brick.
Honey bees eating a sugar brick. (Feb. 14, 2016.)
MARCH 02, 2016: I use this same method to make sugar cakes in the Episode IV.
It looks like I’ve got a trilogy in the making because it’s too cold to slip these sugar bricks in my beehives today. In Episode I, 12 cups of refined granulated sugar were mixed with 1 cup of water and troweled into a tin pan with my bare hands. The last we saw of our big wet bricks of sugar, they were sitting in an oven with only the light on. Ten hours later we return and open the oven to find…