Honey Bee Science

by

It was fun to watch Samantha Dilday, a graduate student at Memorial University, perform some science with my honey bees this past summer. Her research involved tests for aggression (or what we like to more calmly refer to as defensive behaviour) and hygienic behaviour. Hygienic behaviour is usually a good thing. It means the bees are keen to toss out sick or dying bees so that the rest of the colony doesn’t get sick. This includes cleaning away of Varroa mites (if Varroa mites ever make it to Newfoundland).

The research also involved genetic testing and some measurement of brood and honey production. Although curious about it, I had to pass on the brood and honey measurements. I know it’s common practice for many beekeepers to do full hive inspections every eight days, but I’m at the point where I don’t want to do that anymore. I do my best to read the bees from the outside and only dig deep into a hive when I’m concerned about swarming. But I was totally game for the other tests. Check it out:

This is copied and pasted from an email Sam sent me before the experiments…

Aggression test: We will disturb the colony by dropping a small brick onto the top of the hive to elicit a defensive behaviour. A small patch of leather will dangle in front of the hive entrance and the number of embedded stingers found in the patch after 5 minutes will help us determine how aggressive your colonies are.

Hygienic behaviour test: Using liquid nitrogen, we will freeze a small section of brood (about 100 cells) and place the brood frame back into the hive. After 24 hours, we will return and count the number of removed dead brood from the section. This will help use determine how hygienic your hive is and how fast they can remove dead brood.

I’ll probably update this post with more details at a later date. Gotta love science.

Afterthought: Does the music in the video seem a little dramatic and slightly creepy? Not exactly my intention, but these videos are usually slapped together quickly over my lunch break. Odd things that fall together in a hurry are going to happen. It’s not too creepy, though, is it?

A Question & Answer About Fall Feeding

by

I got a question yesterday from someone who entered an invalid email address into my Contact form. I responded but the message bounced back to me. So in case you’re reading this, Bob, this one’s for you.

Question:

I added sugar syrup feeders to my hives today. Have I waited too long? Would it be better to put sugar over the top bars instead? I plan to start winterizing my hives this week. Thank you. Your site has been a great help to me as new beekeeper.

— Bob
Continue reading →

The National Honey Show

by

UPDATE: Those those tuning in for Tom Seeley, after you’ve registered (for free), you can view his conversation here:

https://thenationalhoneyshow.co.uk/tnhs2020/info-page/c7f2ee44-ac00-4b86-899b-77ccc5792021

The vast majority of the people who read this blog or watch my beekeeping videos are overseas, but I nevertheless always recommend for new beekeepers in Newfoundland to get on the old Twitter box once in a while and type #beekeeping in the search field to find out what’s going on in the world of beekeeping today. You never know what you’ll find.

Today, for instance, I learned that Tom Seeley is giving a presentation at the National Honey Show in a few days.
Continue reading →

A Mystery of Dark & Light Honey Comb

by

Do frames of dark comb always produce dark honey? I’ll give you one guess.

This isn’t the first time I’ve made crushed & strained honey in my kitchen. But it’s the first time I’ve crushed combs that were this different from one another — so dark and so light. I’ve harvested honey by the individual frame before because sometimes each frame of honey in a single hive can come from such a different nectar source that the final liquid honey in each frame has a completely different colour and flavour. (That sentence seems longer than it needed to be.) I was expecting something like that this time around. But that’s not what happened.
Continue reading →