I’ve known for a while that I wanted to keep bees. We had bees on our farm, and I’ve long been captivated with honeybee democracy1, the fascinating way that bees structure the life of the hive.
To prepare, I enrolled in a Beekeeping course at George Mason University and learned the basics of beekeeping: bee anatomy, common diseases, and how to care for bees in what has become a precarious environment. I came away from the course realizing that suburban landscapes are full of pesticides, and it’s very easy to poison bees. About 30% of all bees will die in a given year from colony collapse2, and new beekeepers are more likely to suffer these losses. Even with the likelihood of failure, I knew I wanted my own bees.
Over the fall term, I found working in the apiary extremely calming. The beekeeping class was my one social activity during COVID. The classes were outside and we wore masks under our beesuits. In class we learned to pulled frames and watch newborn bees emerge from the comb. We identified the waggle dance3 and how to locate the Queen among her sisters.
As a group we were enchanted by the rhythm of the colonies. During the morning hours several landscapers stopped by to watch the hives. “I really enjoy being near the bees,” one told us. When we pulled frames and watched the bees at work, the men stood near the fence looking over our shoulders, mesmerized.
In early spring, I ordered two colonies of packaged bees and started to explore the equipment I would need. As I started the process, I realized how much more I had to learn.
The first thing I never expected: beekeeping is expensive.
I had a friend who gifted me her old hive boxes, a hive tool, smoker, and beesuit, but I still had to buy 3 brood boxes, hive bases and lids, and frames. My additional materials came to about $600.00. The bees were $440.00.4 Silly me, I thought the bees would be my big expense.
The second thing I never expected: beekeeping requires some basic carpentry skills.
Not only did I have to assemble the hive boxes, I had to build the hive frames. That wasn’t a big deal—I had assembled frames in my beekeeping class. But assembling 2-3 frames in a class is nothing like assembling 80 on a deadline. My lovely neighbor loaned me a nail gun (absolutely essential) and taught me how to use it. Even with the nail gun, it took two full days to assemble the boxes and frames.
While I didn’t have any major accidents, my hands were a mess by the time I got everything assembled. I had splinters and cuts and more than a few bruises.
After the frames were assembled, it was time to place the beeswax foundation. Frame foundations can be natural beeswax or plastic, with the latter being easier (they come pre-assembled) and cheaper. But I didn’t want my beeings making comb and honey on plastic frames.
Booshie, I know. And a lot more work.
To use natural wax foundations, you have to wire your frames. While it looks relatively straightforward, it’s actually really difficult to get the wires tight, get the foundation flat, and embed the wire into the wax. Let’s just say my hands were once again cut deep by steel wire and I melted (ruined) quite a few sheets of wax foundation in the process.5
The third thing I never expected: beekeeping is sticky, even when there’s no honey.
New colonies need to be fed until they adapt to their new hives and get established. To feed them, you need two things: sugar syrup (aka, simple syrup) and pollen patties. The issue with sugar syrup (1:1 ratio of sugar and water) is not it’s difficulty, but the volume. I used a 25 pound bag of sugar to make 4.5 gallons of syrup. I have huge stock pots (it dissolves better in warm water) and I was very careful. But making sugar syrup on this scale is just plain messy.
When I finished the syrup, I stored it in a 5 gallon gatorade cooler, and started to work on pollen patties. I bought a tub of pollen from Mann Lake, then mixed it with sugar syrup and honey from the George Mason bees6. The consistency was sticky and gooey, like cookie dough. Then I rolled it out between sheets of wax paper.7
The fourth thing I never expected: prepping for bees takes a lot of time.
I underestimated how much time I would need to prepare. My amazing husband did the work of building the apiary site and setting up a garden fence. I doubt I would have had that done in time if he hadn’t taken it on.
As I’m writing this, I’m watching the path of the UPS truck carrying my bees. In an hour or two, I’ll be settling the queens and their sisters in for the night.
Wish me luck.
I highly recommend Thomas Seeley’s book, Honeybee Democracy from U of Princeton Press: https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691147215/honeybee-democracy
https://www.epa.gov/pollinator-protection/colony-collapse-disorder
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/videos/category/science/whats-the-waggle-dance-and-why-do-honeybees-do-it/
To be honest, I could have ordered cheaper equipment and bees, but I decided to go through Mann Lake, a well respected bee supplier: https://www.mannlakeltd.com/
I also blew a circuit using the makeshift battery charter to heat the wire and fried our microwave, but that’s a story for another day.
You have to be cautious aboutt the honey sources you feed your bees. Feeding bees honey from a supermarket can cause infection in the hives.
It is possible to buy pollen patties from Mann Lake and other sources. It is cheaper to buy bulk pollen and feed your own.