A Tale of Two Queens (Part 2)

When our story last left off, the swarm’s matriarch had gone missing, leaving only anarchy to reign in the hive. Well, it wasn’t complete anarchy, I suppose. Even without a queen, the bees continued to construct their extraordinary honeycomb. Not only were we able to witness the final product of our insect’s architectural abilities, but, as we further inspected the hive, we were able to catch the girls in the act of building comb! In the picture to the right, you can see what looks like a tightrope of bees between two frames of wax. This is, I eventually learned, called “festooning;” and, while its true purpose was a mystery to me, it indicated that our builder-bees were hard at work putting together their new home!

Despite this slightly humorous indication of progress, I was still in a bit of a panic due to our queen’s decision to abdicate her throne. Although I had hated to again bother Mr. P., the president of our county beekeeping association, this was a situation I knew Eric and I could not tackle alone. Upon listening to our woeful tale, Mr. P. advised that we wait a week in case the queen had simply left on a mating flight (the only time an acting queen should leave the hive); and, if she had not returned by then, he had a last resort in mind for our hive.

When the torturous week at last came to a close, we returned to the hive; hearts heavy, and minds swirling with thoughts of impending doom. When we at last mustered the courage to look inside the hive, we were met with the actualization of our deepest fears that had haunted us for the past seven days: the queen still had yet to return.

We were able to tell this because we were visually unable to locate the queen (this does not necessarily mean that the queen is gone, as she can be quite stealthy when she wishes); the workers were still placing food and water in the cells at the center of the frames (a reigning queen will not allow these central cells to be used for anything besides eggs in a normal hive); and, the production of empty queen cells had continued.

Without hesitation (I was still standing in front of the precariously open hive in my bee suit), I frenetically placed a call to Mr. P., in hopes that he would have some sort of resolution to this ongoing problem. After a few heart-pounding moments of silence, he offered to help out in the last way he could: by giving us a new queen. Apparently, one of his hives had been over-producing queen cells; but, instead of remaining empty like the ones in my hive, his had been filled with eggs by his current queen, stuffed with royal jelly by dutiful nurse-bees, and eventually capped by the hive’s architects. So, after accepting his offer for two queen cells, I (legally) sped over to his apiary and was presented with what appeared to be two peanuts in a queen-cage (which you can see on the left).

Inside these elongated cells lay two, metamorphosing pupae on the road to queen-hood. Now, you’re probably wondering why I was given two queens (and how I can still title these posts as the tale of TWO queens, when there are now clearly three); and, I’ll admit, I wondered the same thing at the time. As it turns out, one queen must hatch first in order to assert her dominance over the hive. She does this by first emitting an admittedly odd buzzing/humming sound called “piping” (A video of this can be found here: “Virgin Queen Honey Bee Piping.”) as a way to announce her plans to take over the hive and call the workers to fight alongside her in her quest for glory and power. Following this vocal display of superiority, the newly-hatched queen will tear open the cells of any queens in her vicinity and fight them to the death. Whichever queen comes out on top is allowed to rule until she dies or is deemed unfit by the workers (I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: bee politics are weird).

Now, here’s where our story takes a slightly gruesome, and ultimately unhappy turn…
The queens I was given had been incubating for approximately a week and a half, meaning that there were only a few days left until one of the queens emerged (a royal bee stays in the cell for a period of fifteen to seventeen days). After offering my heartfelt-thanks to Mr. P. (especially after learning that the acquisition of only one queen would usually cost up to $40 from a professional queen-farm), I returned to the hive to install the cells.

In a few days time, we again returned to the location of the hive in hope to find some sort of queen activity. We had no idea what we were in for.

Even as we approached the hive, we knew something was happening. The bees inside were a bit louder than usual, but, being that it was a slightly warm day, we shrugged this off as being the bees’ natural air-conditioning system. However, as we got within arms-length of the hive, we saw something incredible unfold. A large, rather queen-like bee was being wrestled out of the hive’s front gate by two or so worker bees. These selfless bees were essentially cleaning up the result of this colony’s latest royal war.

Emboldened by the events unfolding before us, we clambered into the hive to find the bee who stood as the last vestige of hope for our ever-aging colony (since bees only have a fifty-day lifespan, our workers only had a couple weeks of life left before their time ran out). Without having to pull out a single frame, we saw our new queen perched atop the hive; and, I swear that a look of accomplishment and triumph could be seen in her five eyes. Content with this discovery, we blissfully returned home to alert everyone of this great news.

What we did not know was that the power of the new queen was anything but secured. Although she appeared in control of the hive, something dreadful would occur between the time we left the hive and the date of our next visit. When we next visited the hive around two weeks later, we were met with every beekeeper’s worst nightmare. Not only could we not find the queen, but no eggs had been laid, the order of the cells was still in disarray, queen cell production had again begun, and we were offered the rare (but unwelcome) opportunity to witness what amounted to the death-knell of our hive: a laying worker.

When the worker bees begin laying eggs, a hive is essentially beyond repair. What is unusual (but still quite fascinating) about bee anatomy is that all female bees, not just the queen, can lay eggs; but, this instinct is repressed by the pheromones released by a laying queen. In the event that these pheromones are not present (which was the case in our hive), the workers are free to begin laying unfertilized eggs. Unfertilized bee eggs are quite different from eggs of other animals, in that they will actually grow and develop into new organisms; however, due to a process I’m not entirely sure that I understand well enough to explain, only male bees will hatch from an unfertilized egg, eventually causing the hive to be overrun by bees who do nothing to benefit the hive.

One frantic call to Mr. P. later, and we were left without any more options. It was official: our first hive had failed. We tried to take some solace in the fact that our hive wouldn’t truly die off. Certainly, the workers would soon disappear; but, the males who were left behind would abandon the hive and venture into the great unknown. Once they find new, wild queens they will carry on the spirit of our hive in countless colonies throughout the area.

Nevertheless, although we have yet to clean out the hive and remove the now-vacant beeswax, we have officially hung-up our suits for this year.

But! I hope that this tale does not sway anyone away from the joy of keeping bees!! Our story is a bizarre exception to the rule of backyard beekeeping. While the global populations of wild bees are dwindling, novice beekeepers may very well turn the tide in this worldwide disaster. Even though our first year has ended in bitter defeat, Eric and I will return to the backyard battleground next spring to valiantly fight against the demise of the bees!

Well, now that my beekeeping tale is done, I promise to return to a far more light-hearted topic next time: the garden! With several months of growing now behind us, I do believe that a true gardening post is in order (this IS a gardening blog, after all)! Plus, I’ve been able to test out quite a few recipes over the past few weeks that need to be shared, so stay tuned for a few updates from the Scholar’s Kitchen, as well!

For now, though, my time is up! Happy Gardening, and good luck with your summer adventures!

A Tale of Two Queens (Part One)

As seems to be the case with each of my postings of late, I must preface this tale with an apology. My lack of posting for the past several weeks can be summed up in the following, rather flimsy, excuse: due to a combination of a new job, a family vacation, and sheer reluctance to put this story to proverbial paper, I have been exceedingly lax in my writing. And for that, I must apologize.
With that nasty business over with, you might be wondering why this particular posting would cause such hesitation that I would wait this ridiculously long to share it. Well, to answer that hypothetical question, it is because I have already seen the end of this all-too-true story, and the main characters will not live “happily ever after.” But, before I spoil the ending, I present to you the first half of, “A Tale of Two Queens.”

When Eric and I next checked on our hive (after the events in “A Most Apiaristic Experiment”), we were excited to discover what had become of our buzzing brood. With a mixture of childlike wonder (“There are several thousand bees in that box! We’re actually keeping bees!”) and time-brought pessimism (“We probably did something wrong and the bees flew off, or died, or were attacked by a herd of marauding bears.”) resonating in each step we took towards the hive, we began noticing a few, encouraging bees fluttering in and out of their new home. With my “Beekeeping for Dummies” book in hand, Eric removed the top cover of the beehive. In a matter of seconds, we were well aware of the life swarming inside this unassuming, white container.

After a moment of awe brought on by the sheer number of stinging insects that we were now going to handle, we made quick work inside the hive. With the nearly identical words of every beekeeping guide I had read up to this point ringing in my ears (“Find the queen!”), we tiptoed into the hive, and began our search.

The first place we had to inspect was the queen cage (the small box that housed the new queen, giving the rest of the hive time to adjust to her scent and authority). Although the cage was covered in bees, we decided to test our mettle as beekeepers and stuck our ungloved hands into the mass of insects, and carefully extracted the box (while not wearing gloves is, I’ll admit, the absolute best way to inspect a hive, the first time you stick your bare hand into a group of several hundred bees will be an experience you won’t soon forget!). Although a few of her majesty’s royal attendants had perished in their chamber (most guides said that this would be the case, and that it was not cause for alarm), the candy door which kept the queen inside her prison had been removed, meaning that the queen had, without a doubt, entered the hive. With our initial fears assuaged by this discovery, we delved deeper into the nine, now-humming frames of clean, white beeswax in order to make sure that the queen was alive and well.

We found the outer six frames almost entirely empty, typical for a freshly installed hive, and so our royal search continued. Frames seven and eight, completely covered in bees (as you can see in the picture on the right), also turned up empty for our queen. Frame nine had minimal activity, and, like the other eight, no queen. We knew that the queen would be hard to spot (even trained beekeepers can’t find their queens each time they inspect their hives), but we were truly disappointed by our undiscovery.

But, just as we were about to reseal the hive and traipse home, we saw a flash of white dash across the bottom of the hive! This could only be the queen, herself, marked with a white dot by her original owner to increase her visibility. Oblivious to our feelings of success, the queen made a hasty exit out the front door of her hive. That made us stop cold. You see, queen bees do not leave the hive except to mate, an occurrence that should not have happened for another week or two. But this queen, either ignorant or simply defiant of the thousands of pages of scientific study devoted to bee-behavior, was outside.

Surrounded by her royal court (she’s the white dot in the slightly blurry picture to the left [it's very difficult to focus a camera while wearing a mesh veil]), our queen had apparently rejected the remainder of the hive still inside. Because we were absolutely baffled, not to mention worried, we phoned the president of our local beekeeping association; and, we were a tad unsettled by his answer to our dilemma. “I have never heard of a queen doing that,” he told us, “I can’t think of a reason why that would happen.” We stopped cold at that, too. If the most highly revered beekeeper in our area was stumped, what hope did we have of resolving this situation?

Thankfully, he did provide several, helpful techniques for reintroducing the queen to the hive (One of which involved re-caging her, a process I was more than a little fearful of performing.). As soon as possible, Eric and I drove out to the hive and proceeded to airlift the queen (using a combination of sugar syrup, cardboard, and our bee brush) back into the hive. Once inside, the queen meandered back into the frames, and disappeared from view. The fact that the workers allowed her to live, instead of performing a six-legged rendition of “Macbeth,” heartened our faith in the hive, and we left in considerably brighter spirits.

Because the queen would need time to readjust to indoor life, we waited about a week before inspecting the hive again. Back inside the hive, we began finding all sorts of interesting things filling the bees’ perfectly formed honeycomb. The workers had neatly arranged cells of water and multi-colored pollen and nectar to form dazzling arrays, rivaling the most intricate stained-glass. But, in addition to “simple” comb, several out-of-place structures were being formed by the bees. These basket-like projections from the wax were queen cells (seen in the image to the right), and their presence only meant one thing: the queen was gone.

I do hate to end my story here, but I feel that I must. However, now that the beginning of this story has been written, the ending will be quick to follow!
Hopefully I’ll see you back here for part two; but, until then, happy gardening!

 

A Most Apiaristic Experiment

In “An Overture to Proliferation,” I mentioned that Eric and I had been experiencing a (pardon the pun) swarm of difficulties with receiving our package of bees. Between then and Easter, we heard nothing but bad news concerning the arrival of our hive; so, thanks to a tip from a friend at the Lancaster County Beekeeping Association, we pulled our original order of bees and placed an order with an apiary that was still taking last-minute requests. Before I continue my bee-themed tale, I want to make sure everyone understands that Bjorn Apiaries, the company with whom we placed our first order, was in no way at fault for the delay of our bees-the people at Bjorn’s were extremely helpful during every step of the bee-ordering process (including the cancellation of our order), and the last thing that I want to do is cast a negative light on their operation.

Well, after finalizing our second order of bees for our first year of beekeeping, Eric and I only had to wait two, nerve-wracking days for our swarm to arrive. On the morning of the bees’ arrival, I was up early scouring bee forums, memorizing every “How to Install Bees” guide I could find, and carefully preparing our bees’ first meal in their new home.

In case you’re curious, new bees, due to their lack of food stores from the previous year, need to be fed a sugar-water mixture until they can sustain themselves on their own carbohydrate-laden honey and protein-rich pollen. To make your own batch of bee food, all you need to do is bring 2.5 quarts of water to a rolling boil and stir in 5 pounds of sugar!

After the bee’s first meal had sufficiently cooled, my beekeeping cohorts and I piled into my car and drove to the pick-up spot on a small farm nestled deep in the heart of central Pennsylvania. When we arrived, we were a tad surprised to find the place deserted, save for five, buzzing boxes in the pack of a truck. Once we had selected our package (we chose the swarm at the bottom-right of the picture to the left, the “M” on the box denotes that our queen bee had been marked, so that she’d be easy to spot), we were faced with the stark realization that someone had to drive for a little more than a half-hour in a small car with a box full of several thousand bees on his lap. Since I was driving, and Tyler was simply visiting the hive, it was decided that Eric would be lucky enough to be the first person to really bond with the bees!

Even with several bees becoming free from their encasing, our car ride was surprisingly calm. Apparently, due to their not having a home to defend, uninstalled bees simply will not sting, a fact that was (thankfully) proven true during our trip.

The actual installation of our bees turned out to be infinitely more difficult than our journey from farm to hive, however. With quick bursts of rain continually interrupting our work, we had to kill most of the day simply waiting for the rain to let up before our tired and hungry bees could explore their new home.

When, at long last, the weather radar indicated that we would have at least twenty dry minutes, the three of us ran down to the hive (as well as one can run in a bee suit), and quickly set up shop. Although my research on bee anatomy had revealed that these little girls had some pretty impressive feet (capable of cleaning, grasping, pushing, carrying, and more), we didn’t quite expect them to be able to hold onto their mesh box as tightly as they did. With “pour and shake the bees into the hive” being the extent of our instructions, we quickly learned that bees don’t exactly form a pourable mass on command. So, we were forced to resort to, rather violently, agitating the box until most of the bees let go of their temporary home and entered into their awaiting hive. Just as the queen had been placed between two of the frames (she’s in the gap in the middle of the picture on the right), the first few raindrops began to fall, signalling that our time in the hive had run out. Careful not to crush the bees under the now quite heavy, hive-top feeding trough, we closed up the hive as quickly as possible and made a hasty retreat home.

An entire, agonizing week would have to pass before we could reopen the hive, but that’s a perplexing story that will have to wait until my next post!
In the meantime, I hope that everyone’s gardens and Spring endeavors are flourishing (despite this never-ending rain)!

Until next time, happy gardening!

Beginning Again

Wow, I can’t believe how long it’s been since my last post!
One thing that I’m quickly learning through my higher-education experience is that final-exam preparation for an English major is a bit more involved than the late-night cramming sessions that usually accompany this hallowed, college tradition. Instead of test-prep, my past few weeks have consisted primarily of in-depth literary analysis and writing a seemingly endless stream of papers.
But, now that my required list of writing assignments has been completed, I’m raring to start posting on a much more regular basis! Because so many blog-worthy events have taken place since my last post, I’ll be trying to bring you all up to speed with a series of rapid-fire postings that should give you a tiny glimpse into The Scholar’s Garden!

First up is a recipe that I’ve been dying to share ever since I wrote “An Overture to Proliferation.” I mentioned at the end of that particular entry that, if they passed a rigorous taste test, I would share the instructions for making a batch of white chocolate, cranberry cookies. Well, they were a hit at home and at school, so I am honor-bound to share the recipe!

White Chocolate Cranberry Cookies

What You’ll Need:

2 Greased Cookie Trays

1/2 cup/ 1 stick of softened butter

1/2 cup of packed brown sugar

1/2 cup of white sugar

1 egg

1 tablespoon brandy (Since our house is almost entirely devoid of alcohol, save for a lone bottle of white cooking wine, I replaced the brandy with vanilla and they turned out just fine.)

1 and 1/2 cups of flour

1/2 teaspoon of baking soda

3/4 cup of white chocolate chips

1 cup dried cranberries (raisins or currants would probably work extremely well, too- or, you could experiment with whatever dried fruit you have lying around your kitchen!)

Instructions

1. Preheat your oven to 375° F

2. Mix together the butter, brown sugar, and white sugar until smooth (an electric mixer will expedite this step).

3. Combine the flour and baking soda and pour into the original sugar mixture.

4. Add the white chocolate chips and cranberries to the dough, mixing thoroughly.

5. Drop spoonfuls of the cookie dough onto your greased cookie trays (these cookies had a tendency to hold fast to the tray, so, in this case, an above-average amount of cooking spray is recommended).

6. Bake for 8-10 minutes (don’t let them get too crispy in the oven, they’ll harden as they cool)

7. Leave the cookies on the trays for about 1 minute, and then transfer them to wire racks to finish cooling.

And there you have it! If you’re in the mood for a sweet snack with a tart undertone, these cookies can’t be beat!

Well, that’s the end of my first catch-up post! Tune in next time for the exciting arrival of the bees (yes, they did finally arrive!)!

Happy Baking!

An Overture to Proliferation

Wow! It’s been far too long since my last post; and, for that, I must apologize. As the end of the semester is fast approaching, I’m finding that I have far less time than normal! So, just so you all know, my posting is definitely going to be spotty until May 4, the date of my last final (oddly enough, that’s the same day as the last frost in our area…guess that means that I’ll have a LOT more time for the garden!). Although I really don’t have much time tonight (a modified lesson plan and a batch of white chocolate cranberry cookies that need taken out of the oven are calling my name), I thought I’d catch you up on what’s been happening in the Scholar’s Garden!

First off, I’d like to recommend a book that I’ve just begun reading: “Carrots Love Tomatoes” (truthfully, I’ve had this book for over a week now, but haven’t had the time to really crack it open until recently). If you’re interested in companion gardening, this is THE book you need (if you’re wondering, no, I don’t receive any kickbacks from the publisher). Companion gardening is an excellent way to get the most out of your garden. By placing certain plants near each other, a plethora of beneficial effects can take place. Not only does this book tell you which vegetables, fruits, nuts, and herbs make good garden-mates, but also what wild plants (that look like weeds) to leave in your yard, which weeds and leaves make the best compost, and how to design the ideal companion garden for the veteran gardener or for a yard teaming with children. With this book on hand, along with my very old copy of “The Square Foot Garden,” I’ve been attempting to design this year’s garden in a way that will make both me and my plants happy!

Speaking of making things happy, Eric and I have recently been as busy as, well, bees! In preparation for the bees’ arrival, we’ve been putting the finishing touches on our hive. Because of a scheduling delay, the delivery date of our bees has been pushed back (we were supposed to receive the girls this past Sunday); but, nonetheless, we’ve been hard at work making sure that the bees will enjoy their new home. In fact, I was able to take a few pictures of our final set-up that I thought I would share.

As we set out to put the beeswax foundation in our frames (the individual slots in the hive bodies that you can see in the second picture of the bottom row) we encountered quite a few problems. For future beehive construction projects, I’m going to definitely make an effort to remember to bring all of the screws and tools necessary to put the entire structure together (in lieu of a brad driver, we had to use a pair of needle-nose pliers and a large, flat-head screwdriver to secure our brads)!

And, just as a heads-up to anyone planning on assembling your own hive, make sure you save all of the wood that comes with your kit! Case-in-point: we threw away what appeared to be scraps when we first assembled the frames and boxes, but those flimsy, seemingly useless pieces of wood were actually supposed to hold the beeswax to the frame! So, as you can see in the second picture of the first row, we resorted to using paint stirrers for our supports. Despite these difficulties, the hive is 100% complete and ready for the most important part of this whole project: the bees!

So that’s what’s been going on in our neck of the woods! I do hate to run, but I must pull those cookies out of the oven (if they turn out well, I’ll be sure to post the recipe for you to enjoy…if they aren’t so good, we’ll just forget I ever mentioned them)!

Have a great night, and, as always, happy gardening!

Breaking Ground

If you’ve read my last two beekeeping posts, then I’m sure that you’re aware of our recent weather situation (mainly, that it’s been cold, windy, and all around miserable). The picture of the thermometer on the right was taken last week, long before it snowed! Luckily for us, though, we had a little taste of Spring weather this weekend. This meant that we had to capitalize on this fleeting opportunity to get into the garden as quickly as we could!

Although I don’t have too much time tonight (thanks to a paper on “The Yellow Wallpaper” that has yet to write itself), I thought I’d break my recent schoolwork-induced writing fast and quickly let you all know where the Scholar’s Garden stands!

As the last frost date draws near (here in central PA it’s May 4), we’ve been scrambling to prepare the land for this year’s garden. With the warm weather and stink bugs fast approaching (the first one of those six-legged pests was spotted outside today), it was decided that this weekend we would break ground and establish the plot. Because I’ve been stuck inside working on scholarly assignments, my dad was kind enough to begin the de-grassing process in the yard. Before too long, the garden took shape, and, now, all that’s left is to fill it in with dirt, fertilize the area, and perform a soil sample or two!

With the main garden in as much order as possible, I turned my attention (and Garden Weasel) to the smaller plot which is already home to the garlic plants I mentioned in “The Equinox.” It was decided that all of the Alliums (plants in the onion/garlic family) grown this year would be placed in this spot. So, in an attempt to get a jump on the rapidly-nearing planting season, I started the rest of our leeks in the terrarium and attempted to plant our red onion sets. “Attempted” being the key word there.

As it turns out, leaving your onion sets in a plastic container tends to build up quite a bit of moisture, which, in turn, seems to turn your once-vibrant onions into the perfect hiding spot for lovely blue/green mold. Since we’re not trying to cultivate mold this year (colorful as it may be), we were forced to purchase a second bag of onions; and, eventually, place them into the ground. From what I’ve heard, you’re supposed to plant onion sets about eight weeks before the final frost date, but, as I only learned this bit of knowledge yesterday, four weeks before the final frost will have to do! Even though we encountered a few, minor setbacks in the onion-planting process, our baby alliums are, at long last, safely nestled next to their adolescent cousins.

Sadly, I must be off to ponder the inner workings of “The Yellow Wallpaper,” but I’ll leave you with a very handy, succinct guide to growing onions entitled, “How to Plant Onions!”

As always, happy gardening!

Building the Foundation

Since it still has yet to warm up in these parts, I thought I’d share a little bit more on the beekeeping topic that I brought up in my last post. If you read “A Look Ahead,” then you’ll already know that my friend Eric and I will be starting a small beekeeping hobby/business this Spring; and, that I promised to post a few pictures from our trip up to the site of the future bee-yard. Well, true to my word, here are a few of the shots I took while we transported our hive!

Because our bees won’t be arriving until April 10, we decided to lay down the foundation and leave the hive itself inside for another week or so. In case you’re wondering why we’re not keeping the bees in our own backyards, or if you’re simply thinking of starting your own hive, I thought I’d include a little five-step guide explaining the ins and outs of beehive placement.

How to pick a spot that will keep you, your bees, and your neighbors in perfect harmony

1. Check the laws in your area regarding beekeeping.
For a general overview of where beekeeping is illegal, here’s a list of the “No Buzz” zones in the continental United States: Illegal Beekeeping. There are only about 90 cities left on this list, but it’s always a good idea to check (my city is actually on the list, which is why we’re keeping our bees on another property). Even beyond the city law, check with your township for any regulations that must be followed; some areas require that the hive be kept at a certain distance from your property line, for example.

2. Talk to your neighbors about your new found love for the bees!
Explain to them that because of the bees’ typical flight pattern (they leave the hive and fly straight up into the sky and then spread out away from their home), the neighborhood isn’t going to be flooded with stinging insects. To increase the bees’ natural inclination to do this, you could plant tall hedges around the hive or erect a 6′ fence in front of your bees.
If you want to really win over your neighborhood, you can always give away some free honey after your first year!

3. Make sure that your backyard/property will give the bees ample space.
A beehive doesn’t take up much space at all, but if you live in a crowded development, the bees might not appreciate the close quarters. Bear in mind that the more unfamiliar people there are in a close vicinity of the hive, the higher the chance of a bee stinging a person that it perceives as a stranger.

4. Find an area that will be ideal for the bees.
In general, a good spot for a hive has three things: moderate shade, a nearby water source, and food.
Placing your hive on the edge of a grove of trees, where the shade provides adequate protection from the sun but does not completely eclipse the hive is ideal.

Like any animal, bees need water to survive (and to make honey!); so, having a source of standing water (like a constantly stocked bird bath or, as you can see in the pictures above, a pond) is essential.

While you certainly don’t need to place your hive in the center of a tulip farm, you will want to make sure that the area around your chosen spot will have enough blooming plant life to feed your bees. Unless you live in an area devoid of vegetation, I wouldn’t worry about this factor too much; but, nonetheless, it is important to consider.

5. Make sure that the perfect spot for your bees is the perfect spot for you, too!

If you are unable to house your bees on your property, but have a satellite location in mind, check the distance between your home and the future site of your bees. If the trek from home to hive is long and inconvenient, you may want to look into finding a new spot. Even if the area is perfect for the bees, you don’t want to dread making the weekly trip to check up on your hive (hating the drive can ruin all of the fun of beekeeping).

Hopefully these pointers will help you pick the ideal home for your bees!
If you’d like to learn more about beekeeping in your area, here are two links that provide the contact information for a plethora of beekeeping associations around the world: Beekeeping Associations in the United States, International Beekeeping Associations.

It’s getting pretty late here, so I’m all out of time!
If you have any questions, as always, please feel free to ask! If you’ve noticed something that I’ve forgotten here, or have some words of beekeeping wisdom to share, I’d love to hear what you have to say!
Until next time, happy gardening!

A Look Ahead

If you live in the northeastern United States, or have had the misfortune of visiting us in the past few days, I’m sure you’ve noticed how deceptively cold it’s been here. By deceptive, I mean that even though it might look bright and sunny and gardening-friendly, venturing outdoors always results in being whisked back inside by a blast of cold air and a mocking snowflake. So, in an attempt to escape from this deep freeze, I thought I’d talk about beekeeping: a new-found hobby of mine that will be picking up in the warm, sunny month of April, a month that seems about as distant as the land of milk and honey…

I was first made aware of this seemingly archaic pastime (I really didn’t think people still kept bees, quite honestly) by the great folks over at GardenFork. For reasons that I can’t explain, I decided that I would don the bee-suit and, after some convincing, I talked Eric, a good friend of mine, into joining me in this venture. By now, I’m sure someone is thinking “Why would someone deliberately place several-thousand stinging insects onto their property?”. And, I’ll admit, I thought the exact same thing the first time I heard of backyard beekeeping. But, after hearing of the incredible benefits of keeping a hive full of bees (and that bees are, for the most part, very gentle creatures), I was sold. Although there are certainly a myriad more justifications for keeping bees, here are a few benefits that helped win me over:

1. Keeping bees increases the growth and output of a vegetable garden. There’s no way around it, gardeners need bees. Without ‘em, we’d have to rely solely on the randomness of the winds for the pollination of our plants (and I’m not exactly ready to put all my money on the reliability of the weather!).

2. Bees produce honey. I know, that’s a pretty obvious statement, but when you think of all of honey’s health benefits, having a local supply makes a lot of sense, especially if you’re a fan of getting your produce locally!

3. On a global scale, bees are disappearing. Literally. Because of a phenomena known as Colony Collapse Disorder, entire hives of bees have begun to vanish, leaving nothing but an empty hive and a baffled beekeeper behind. This mysterious occurrence means that new beekeepers are desperately needed to replenish the dwindling number of bees in the world. According to the USDA, bee pollination accounts for $15 billion of crop value (or, to put it another way-one out of every three mouthfuls of food you eat has been beneficially affected {directly or indirectly} by bees), so it’s in everyone’s best interest to help these little guys (or girls) get back on their feet!

Once I was convinced that beekeeping would be good for me, if not the world, I set out to find a few resources that would help me in my quest to single-handedly repopulate the bee community (I might have been a tad over-ambitious at first). In the picture of our hive below, you might notice the book Beekeeping for Dummies, a guide that has proven to be an invaluable resource. If you’re interested in beekeeping, or if you’re a beekeeping pro, this book is bound to teach you something.

Being that I was not only convinced that I must keep bees, but now well-read on the topic, I needed supplies. And, thanks to the advertising on GardenFork’s iTunes videos, I was made aware of Brushy Mountain Bee Farm. This bee supplier had everything necessary to get started for this year (plus much, much more). What makes this company even more reputable, I think, is that they raise their own bees; and, if you live around their North Carolinian headquarters, they’ll even ship a package of them to you!

Because I don’t live in North Carolina, a fact which is a bit saddening, especially during this never-ending cold weather, I had to find a local apiary (or bee-farm) in my area. Scouring every online, beekeeping forum we could locate, Eric and I finally settled on Bjorn’s Apiary, run by Mike Thomas. If you live in PA and are interested in beekeeping, Mike is truly a wealth of information (and bees)! He breeds his strains of bees specifically for this area so that each hive will survive the winter. Not unlike an expectant mother, we’ve been rushing around getting everything ready for April 10, the arrival date of our package of Russian bees. The hive has been built, a location has been set, and all that’s left is to set up our hive and install our bees!

If all goes according to plan, Eric and I will be heading to the site of our future apiary to prepare the hive for its future inhabitants. I’ll try to take a few pictures and share them here as soon as I can! As for the pictures of my photo shoot with The Gilded Lily, the landscaping firm I had previously mentioned, I hope to have them up by the middle of next week, once I receive the negatives.

Well, that’s all the news from my frozen patch of ground, hope it’s getting warmer in your neck of the woods!
As always, happy gardening (or beekeeping)!

A Little off the Top

A friend of mine recently asked me a question about when it was best to start thinning vegetable seedlings; and, I’ll be the first to admit that I had no idea. I really hadn’t put much thought into my burgeoning seedlings, which are now outgrowing their terrarium-esque container (We had to move the kiwi vines to a new spot-they were getting just a tad too tall). So, I’ve done a little bit of research, and am here to share what I’ve learned about the simple, yet heart-wrenching, process of thinning one’s plants.

First, here are a few reasons why thinning your plot is better for you and the plants.

1. Less plants in one area allows greater root growth for the plants you leave in the ground.

2. More nutrients and water is allotted per plant, meaning a healthier, more bountiful crop.

3. Several early diseases can be prevented because of greater air circulation around your seedlings (just like us, a crowded plant is an unhappy plant).

Now, onto the dreaded task of parting with a few of your young plants…

1. Make sure the plants you plan on thinning have two to three fully formed leaves and are between two and three inches tall-Less than two (leaves or inches), and the plants aren’t ready to be thinned.

2. Before you pull anything, water the soil in which your seeds are planted so that the ground is moist, but not soaked-this will make the process easier on you and the plants.

3. Thin your seedlings in the evening to allow the remaining plants time to recover before being put into direct sunlight.

4. Once you’ve accomplished the first three steps, it’s time to start thinning. For most fruit-bearing plants, gently pulling the seedlings from the dirt is the best technique (feel free to use a spoon to dig ‘em out and replant these little guys somewhere else if you have room. Or, you could dice them up and leave them outside for the local critters to munch on-no sense letting a good plant go entirely to waste!)

5. For root vegetables like carrots, onions, and radishes, pulling the plants all haphazard like can play havoc on the roots (read: the edible part) of the plants left behind. To combat this, take a pair of scissors and snip off the plants at the soil level. This will discourage further growth, granting more space for the rest of your garden.

And that’s how it’s done! Now, a moment of silence for all of the seedlings that have been thinned…

*Deep breath* Well! Since it’s night time in my neck of the woods, I’m going to go do a little trimming in my own garden patch.
Good luck with your  thinning ventures, and happy gardening!

A New Day

Walking through the lobby of our campus always presents one with unique opportunities. While passing through, you might be asked to give blood, donate books for African schools, accosted by any number of businesses who want you to join their summer employment roster, or, as was the case yesterday, given free food and an opportunity to embrace an unfamiliar culture.

Since yesterday was Noruz, the Iranian New Year, which means “New Light” or “New Day,” an area of our school’s foyer was devoted to teaching us about this holiday and the culture from which it comes. Part of this tradition involves the preparation of several specific dishes, one of which being my favorite dessert: baklava. So, in the spirit of Noruz, I thought I’d share my favorite recipe for this light, nutty pastry which looks challenging to make, but is really quite simple!

What You’ll Need

1 9×13 baking dish

1 Basting brush

1 Medium Sauce Pan

1 16 ounce package of phyllo dough (available in the freezer section of most grocery stores)

1 pound of chopped walnuts and pecans  (this is my favorite combination, but any type of chopped nuts will work)

1 stick of butter (I usually get by with only using a half stick, but it all depends on how you apply it to the dough)

1 teaspoon cinnamon or allspice

1 cup water

1 cup white sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup honey

Instructions

1. Preheat your oven to 350° F

2. Butter the bottom and sides of your baking pan

3. Chop your nut mixture – I usually chop the nuts until they’re relatively fine, but having larger chunks will still work just as well

4. Add cinnamon to nut mixture and mix until the cinnamon is evenly distributed.

5. Unroll your package of phyllo dough and cut the stack in half so it matches the size of your pan. In order to keep the phyllo from drying out, I’ve been told to dampen one or two paper towels and place them on top of the dough while you prepare the dish.

6. Now the fun part!
Begin placing sets of two phyllo dough sheets on the bottom of your pan, brushing melted butter onto the top of each set. Repeat this until you have a base of eight sheets of phyllo dough.

7. Now, sprinkle enough of the nut mixture to lightly cover the dough. Cover the mixture with another two-layer set and continue buttering the dough. Repeat this step until you’ve run out of your nut mixture or of room in your pan.

8. Top with six sheets of phyllo dough, buttering the top; and, with a sharp knife, cut the baklava into whatever serving sizes you prefer before placing your pan into the oven for 50 minutes, or until the top layer is crisp and flaky.

9. While the pastry is baking, now is a good time to prepare the sauce. Bring the water to a boil in your sauce pan, and mix in the sugar until it is completely dissolved. Add your vanilla and honey and let simmer for twenty minutes.

10. Once your baklava has finished baking, immediately pour the honey-topping over the pastry and let it cool. To store your baklava, keep the container uncovered, otherwise it has a tendency to get soggy.

And that’s all there is to it! Bear in mind that this is my favorite recipe, not the traditional, Noruz style of Baklava. For a more authentic baklava recipe, here’s a link to CitronandCinnamon’s Lebanese variation: Nutty Baklava.
If you have your own, favorite way of making this dish, or another dessert you love to make, let me know! I’m always looking to try new things!

Happy baking, and happy Noruz!