Guest Beekeeper With No Pants

For the sake of any American readers, what I mean by pants is underpants – but this should become apparent as the story unfolds.

On a Sunday morning in July, this Summer, I went for a run, had a shower and then put on my thickest pair of pants as I was to inspect the bees later in the day.  Despite it being another hot day there was still something comforting about my thick pants.

I considered sending my mate Anthony (who was to join me later for a bee inspection) a jokey text about wearing armour plated pants, but I thought this was just going overboard as I had texted him earlier telling him to bring some cotton wool for his ears and nostrils.  Okay, these thoughts amuse me during my moments alone.

I showed Anthony and his son some empty supers and explained how a hive worked and then stepped into my full bee suit and wellies, secure in the knowledge that I had three layers of protection in the most sensitive of places should the bees attack me.  I gave my mate the ‘guest half suit’ and it did cross my mind that his trendy jeans looked a bit on the thin side.

Here we are, all excited:

Thriller Bees
Thriller Bees

I assured Anthony my bees were friendly seconds before he became my first guest beekeeper to get stung.  He made a lot of noise about it – these actor types like the attention.  I kept calling him to come back and to be fair he did come back for 30 seconds to get a look at the bee eggs and larvae.  We then headed home for some antihistamine ointment.

I popped up stairs to change out of my suit and jeans and get the ointment.  Anthony was keen to show me his bee sting and came up too.  It then also became evident he didn’t have any pants on (“he’d forgot to take them to his brother’s where he was staying the night”).

Let’s assume he wears pants 364 days per year out of 365 days and that he just got very unlucky to find himself dropping his trousers, showing me his sting and applying cream. Or perhaps the exhibitionist in him got lucky?

So the moral of this story is, if you are going to inspect some bees with a friend, best to wear pants.  Not just for that triple layer of protection, but so that in the event you do get stung on the upper thigh and want someone to look at it, it’s a bit less embarrassing for all concerned.

You can read more about this inspection in my hive notes from 21 July 2013.

Bee Update

All looks good. None flying as it’s too cold. They buzz when I tap the hive. No dead bees on the floor (amazing).

If you have been missing my posts, you might want to have a read of My Favourites.

The Bodge Hammer Returns

Crikey.  This was to be my third hive.  I’ll soon have to bump up my BBKA insurance!  Hmmmm … and I’d better start making some honey.  Or maybe I just shouldn’t blog for a few years and start writing again when I have made a year’s supply of honey, rather than appear to be the beekeeper with all the gear and no idea.

The good news is that I am much improved at building a flat pack beehive.  Yes … the frames are not perfectly square, yes it wobbles, yes there are gaps and yes, the bodge hammer made a few appearances … but the gaps are smaller than a bee, and with a few kilos of honey, some weathering and propolis from the bees … it should be alright.

Flatpack beehive
Flatpack beehive

Even though it has been eight months since I built the last hive, the subconscious is a wonderful thing.  It keeps on learning even after the event.  This time I anticipated problems.   Before I applied hive glue, I hammered in nails, so that they had gone through one piece of wood and nearly ready to go into the next one.  I punched holes through plastic rails using the larger nails.  I was on fire!  It only took me two hours to build the hive stand and open mesh floor.  I think this demonstration of anticipation, is evidence that my Man Intelligence (MQ) has increased in the last year.

As my own workbench had no vice or “things” (also known as vice pegs or clamping dogs) to stop the pieces of wood slipping around, it was a bit tricky, but the garage wall helped.  Ironically, pieces of wood are more slippery after the glue is applied rather than more sticky.  It often felt like a two man (or person) job but I was going to do this by myself.

Slowly, I am dissolving away the idealist in me that would like to make perfect square hives that don’t rock, and who would like to know what is going on in the beehive.  I am trying to become someone who is happy when it’s good enough.

I am not yet that person … “where’s the bodge hammer”??!!

If you liked this post you might want to read the first mention of the bodge hammer.