roofhoney

[roofhoney]

New bees, fresh from the farm

On Saturday, we began again. We drove a few hours west to a farm in the middle of Pennsylvania and picked up new nucleus hives. Then, we turned around and drove to Philadelphia and hauled them up to the roof.

It wasn't a bad morning for it. The rain held off and the wind stayed low. We lit a smoker and made quick work of dumping the bees into their new home. Here's to another season of beekeeping! Wish us luck, we may need it.

[roofhoney]

THE HIVE THAT DEFIED WINTER'S WRATH

Out of three hives, this was the sole survivor. But as you see, it's thriving. Nestled between two other hives, perhaps its middle position gave it some shelter from the challenges of nature. Or maybe the queen was just that little bit stronger.

The hive swarmed the day we left on our first vacation since COVID. ( It's dispiriting sit at the airport and get texts from the neighbors about the bundle of bees on the corner.)

When we returned, things were uncertain for a while. We wondered: Did we have a laying worker? But low and behold, we have a new queen. Long live the queen.

[roofhoney]

Much Honey, Few Bees

Our roof bees did not survive the spring—big sigh. (We suspect it was the last cold snap in April that did them in.) But they left behind gallons and gallons of honey, which we have been diligently harvesting and bottling. So the silver lining is that we have an abundance of honey.

Everyone has been asking “When will you get new bees?”  The answer is tricky because it depends on how quickly we can fix the roof deck that the hives sit on. We discovered as we were going through the hives that the decking needed repair. Now, we’re waiting for permits and builders. Until, that happens... no new bees. 

Once again, it’s a case of “bee” patient.  

[roofhoney]

A GOOD LAY

Our Memorial Day inspection confirmed what we’d suspected about our new queens: they’re all very fertile and active. Just look at this brilliant laying pattern - it’s like something out of a beekeeping textbook. We’ve never had queens that laid so evenly or so abundantly! This shot is from the hive we’ve named East because it’s well, farther east than the hive we call West. (We’re clever with these naming conventions.) 

So we’re off to a good start. Next, we must treat the bees for parasites — urgently. Parasites live in the cells where the queen lays her eggs. The more eggs, the more opportunities for our pesky parasites to flourish. 

[roofhoney]

DAWN OF A NEW SEASON

We beegin, again. 

Last winter, the bees died, every last one of them. So this past weekend, we took another long drive deep into northwestern Pennsylvania and came home with three nucs which we installed in the empty hive boxes vacated by our late lamented bees. 

It didn’t take long for the new girls to make themselves at home. By the next morning we had traffic flying in and out of all three of our horizontal hive boxes: High, Low and Layens.  

We can stand across the street and see the bees taking off and landing. (If you life in the ‘hood, you can do it, too!) Davey says we have a much happier roof. 

One thing we’ve done differently this year is our placement of the Layens hive. We’ve moved it from the west side of the roof to the east, so it gets first sunlight. (Last year, Layens was always slow to stir we think because it took longer for the sun to reach it.) But its new location is a bit of a trade-off. Now, the Layens gets more sun, but it’s also in very close proximity to an air conditioning unit with big, bee-mutilating fans. We may have to re-evaluate once the hot weather arrives and the A/C kicks in. 

So we’re off, wish us better luck this year.

[roofhoney]

Hi there Roof Honey, great pix of those queens! Did the girls make any extra honey this year?

Well they are making honey . But yet know how much. We'll see very soon

[roofhoney]

QUEEN SPOTTING

Given our lurid history of queen stomping, it’s always a good day when we can see that our queens are alive, well and un-stepped-upon. So it was an exceptionally good day when we found the queens in both Top Hive (above) and in Layens Hive (below). 

It hasn’t always been easy locating our queens atop the roof. Fighting a stiff breeze. Holding frames out at arm’s length. The risk of losing a queen to a big gust of wind haunts us. And adding the challenge this year, our queens are unmarked. 

So please join us in celebrating this happy moment: I’ve highlighted both queens with big red circles on the photo.  And with any luck at all, we’ll see the queen in Bottom Hive soon. Fingers crossed.

[roofhoney]

POLLEN HUNTERS

As I mentoned, here in Philadelphia we’re in the dearth. And pollen can be a scare resource in the center of town where we keep our hives. But “our girls” have their sources. They’re carting pollen home as fast as their little wings can carry it. Just look at the over-stuffed pollen baskets on this bee! 

What you can’t see from the photo is how heavy these super-sized pollen baskets must be: When she alit from the sunflower she flew took off in a bumpy, lopsided course  -- it looked like she was going to crash -- until she finally gained enough momentum to get herself airborne. 

Here’s a closer look. Astonishing how much her tiny frame can carry — and still collect more! I wonder what the human equivalent in carrying weight would be. Would her human counterpart be a power lifter? Does anyone have any idea? Let me your thoughts. 

[roofhoney]

REGIME CHANGE AT BOTTOM HIVE! 

The bees at Bottom Hive didn’t care for their queen. And not without reason, as we saw a while back, Bottom’s queen wasn’t exactly a champion layer. Though there were eggs and brood, her pace and pattern of laying was nothing like what we saw in the other hives. That meant there really weren’t enough bees for the hive to truly thrive.

So Bottom’s bees took matters into their own hands, so to speak. That peanut-shaped object up above is a queen cell. They built it to raise a new queen. And as we can see...

... that’s just what Bottom’s bees did. We know this because:  a) when we look at the queen cell from another angle, it’s empty — the new queen has emerged and “offed” the old one.  b) Now, the hive looks different... in a good way. It’s filled with new eggs and developing larvae. And there are already more bees. More bees mean more honey, more pollen, and well... more bees. The endless cycle.

So Bottom Hive deserves an “attagirl.” Our challenge now is how to print a certificate of commendation small enough to hang in their hive. We’ll keep working on it.

[roofhoney]

DEARTH BECOMES US

The blooms have long gone from the trees. The flowering dandelions are done. The clover has gone to seed. Even the “unkillable”wild flowers (non-bee-people call them weeds) that usually grow between the cracks in the sidewalks are faded and crinkly. And we’re all (that’s us humans and the bees) still waiting for the lavender, zinnias and Russian sage to reach their full potential.

Of that means it’s official: We’re in the dearth... that time when it’s especially tough to be a bee. It’s also the time beekeepers, especially novices like us, are faced with lots of choices and conflicting advice. Do we feed the bees sugar? Or not. Do we treat them for parasites? Or not? Do we provide alternate sources of pollen? Or not.

And no pressure, but every decision we make could determine whether the bees live or die over the winter ....Yikes.

[roofhoney]

Seeing Other Hives

On Sunday, we decided to start seeing other hives. Actually, “start” is a slight inaccuracy. As part of the Beekeeper’s Guild, we’ve been helping look after the children’s hives at St. James School for a while now. But Sunday was the first day we started the morning by heading out for a good look. 

It was such a calm, windless day (though stinking hot 90˚F/32˚C), it seemed perfect for inspecting, specifically the Layens (we have one of these on our roof  at home) and the top bar hives. And we weren’t alone in this thought -- two other beekeepers arrived just as we did to check out two other hives: the Warre and the Langstroth. It turned into an impromptu beekeeping party! 

And the good news ... the hives appear to be doing pretty well. Though on the top bar hive, as you can see, the bees have deployed a cross-combing "art installation”, which we’ve adjusted for them.

I was good to see these hives for many reasons, not the least of which being it gives us another point of reference to evaluate what we have on our roof. 

[roofhoney]

A STICKY BUSINESS

The bees in Bottom Hive are serious propolisers. Propolis, is of course, the “glue” bees produce to coat and seal their hives. It’s thought to be antimicrobial.  So perhaps the habit these bees have of copiously applying propolis everywhere will protect them from infection. Perhaps this is an early indicator that this hive will be healthier as time goes on. Or perhaps not. We just don’t know. But for now what we can say is “Yikes, are these frames stuck together!” I can see I’ll need to do finger push-ups this summer to strengthen my digits.  

[roofhoney]

A Good Lay

We’ve had the new bees a few weeks now, so it was time to take a look. Let’s start with the good news: 

The Layens hive (More about this hive later) has a queen that has laid down a good, no make that, better than good, pattern of eggs. Just look at this laying pattern!

The hive we’ve named Top is also looking pretty snappy. Like the Layens, it has a queen that’s pumping out eggs. There’s an abundance of capped brood and a booming population. 

As for the hive we call Bottom... The name is apt. It looks like it’s quite possibly queenless. (sigh) Few bees, little brood. We saw some eggs, but... who knows what’s going on. Yikes -- a problem hive so early in the season. Ah well, time will tell. Fingers crossed.

[roofhoney]

A CARLOAD OF BEES

What do you do when all your bees die? You suck it up and order new ones. We ordered ours from a local beekeeper about two hours northwest of us in a little town called, Trout Run. We drove out at dawn with an empty car and sped home later that afternoon loaded with bees. And by the way, these weren’t all ours. The beekeeper, asked us to drop off a couple nucleus hives (AKA “nukes”) for him on our trip back to town.

Not what you want to see in your rear view mirror!

Mostly the bees were good passengers, but as with any group of anything (Well, any living things)  you’re always going to have a couple rugged adventurers. 

Judging by the crowd gathered inside our back window, we’ve got the Star Fleet commanders of bees. They were boldly going where no bees had gone before, at least in our car. At the height of the crush we had a hundred or so “adventure bees” exploring the interior of our vehicle as we cruised down the highway at 70 MPH (113KPH). 

It was a test of nerves for driver and passenger alike, but not real harm was done. Though as you can see, Davey did take one for the team, right on the noggin. And so year three of Roofhoney begins. Wish us luck and keep your fingers crossed. Do you have any words of advice for us? Please share your wisdom in the comments.

[roofhoney]

MEET THE PRESS

Please make your acquaintance with our new honey press. In the past, we’ve done centrifugal extraction. But when our bees departed for that great hive in the sky, they left just a few frames of capped honey. For a small harvest like this, extracting would leave behind almost as much honey as we’d collect. 

And then there are volatile organic compounds. The spinning of the extractor flings these compounds, or so we’ve been told, to the four winds. By pressing the honey, we hoped to sequester them in our honey for a richer, more intense honey. But what we gain in “volatiles”, we lose in comb — pressing the honey obliterates the honeycomb. But, at least for now, we’ve made our choice. 

So you’ll excuse me if I jet, I’ve got a pressing engagement. 

[roofhoney]

KILLERS, NOT QUITTERS

Despite any regrets (and like an infamous crooner, we've had a few) about the actions or inactions that contributed to the demise of tens of thousands of sentient beings in our care, we shall “bee” again. We resolve to do better. 

So this past week, Davey went hunting for nucs. It sounds like something out of a Tom Clancy novel, but in reality it’s far more benign. It’s simply contacting local beekeepers (the definition of local expands with each unsuccessful contact) to ask if they have nucs to sell us in the spring. Wish us luck. 

We’ll write if we get bees.

[roofhoney]

GONE TO THAT GREAT HIVE IN THE SKY

I’ve been putting of this post off for some time. But I can’t delay any longer. Here’s the news, and it’s not good:

We’ve had a complete dead-out. Every single hive. Peeking inside, it looks like an icy version of Pompeii. Few bees, but those are there, are frozen in midlife. Poor Swarm Hive was trying to raise new queens.

What happened? The honest answer is we’re not sure. Perhaps we were too late in treating for varroa. Perhaps, it was the bitter winter  —  the coldest in Philadelphia for several years. Or a combination of things. So we’ve gone from being “bee havers” (almost bee keepers) to “bee haders.” Such is life, or in this case death. Cue the requiem music.

But we will begin again in the spring.