Bee Bonnet

Tomorrow morning I check my hive for the first time. I cannot wait!! 

This should take about 10-15 minutes. I'm looking for:

-The queen bee

-New eggs and signs that the queen is laying

-Pests - beetles, mites, wax moths -- those are the ones I know to look for so far. 

-The health of the bees - are any misformed, showing signs of stress.

-If the workers are making new honeycomb on the new frames and I'm looking to see if the queen has started spreading out to the new frames to lay eggs.  

--I'm adding a beetle trap to monitor. 

I have a smoker, and because of the internet, will prepare the smoker. But my training beekeeper uses sugar spray for hive inspections. So, my plan is to do as training, keeping a smoker nearby--though I actually have no idea how to use it. 

My beekeeping suit with a helmet has not arrived yet. But after helping the Amish beekeeper with his hive inspections without a veiled-hat, I WILL have one to inspect my own hives. 

While I was helping, I had one little bee that kept headbutting my lips--a bee's warning to back off or be stung. So I backed off, but that angry, buzzing bee followed me, headbutting me, wherever I went. I finally had to remove my sun hat and wave it about as I slipped into my van and them slammed the door shut.  That was the only truly scary moment while we inspected eight hives--however--I learned how hard it is to control your body's natural response. 

Imagine being fully surrounded by disturbed bees without any protection save rubber boots. While you're out there, there are bees flying all around, there's a loud, discordant humming--one that you instinctively know means they are disturbed. Some bees fly right up to your face, with angry buzzing. A few butt their heads against you or fly to your eyes or ears and hoover, angrily buzzing. There several times I had to stand still, shut my eyes, and think 'They won't sting a tree or a rock. Just stand still, show you are not a threat.' With my eyes closed, I could calm myself, despite the various whooshing of bees nearby. It was harder with my eyes open. 

The Amish beekeeper, Ennis, smiled and said, "It's a lot easier not to feel panicky when you have a veiled hat on and know they won't sting your face." 

Even more humorous, while I had angry bees targeting me, he kept waving to me, saying, "Come here and look at this. You want to see this!"

Now mind you, I know that these bees are warning me to back off-- instincts combined with what I've read from other beekeepers online are telling me to obey them. My most necessary learning curve is to learn how to read my bees. It's not hard, actually. The bees are good about warning you. I'd have to cover my mouth with my tee-shirt (because one flew in my mouth and I learned not to open my mouth in swarms of bees) and say, "I will in a minute. I've got some angry guards warning me, right now." And Ennis would nod and smile and keep checking his hives. 

It was amazing when we'd open a docile hive--the differences were obvious. The buzzing was gentle, the bees ignored us. Inspections were easy. 

When we finished, I told Ennis how I'd ordered my beekeeping hat through the mail, but it hadn't arrived yet. He said, "I sell beekeeping veils, like the one I wore." 

"How much?" I asked.

"Fifteen dollars, but you have to have a straw hat and trim it to size." 

Now thankfully, I had two Amish straw hats (or so I thought.) My daughter had driven our Amish neighbors to the doctors, and when I got home that night, there were two straw hats on my kitchen table. At first, I was horrified, because it was during a very busy school week, and the Amish are meticulous about housekeeping. I feared they'd come inside, taken off their hats, and were so shocked by my non-Amish housekeeping, that they forgot their hats. (Aren't brains lovely, the way they make up these endearing stories.)

My daughter told me an even more interesting tale. She said, "No, I told them about how you really loved Amish hats." 

!?!?!?!?!?!  "You said I loved Amish hats?"

"Yes," she replied, "You're always saying that you want one."

Again, I'm still in shock. Have I ever talked, ever, ever, about Amish hats?

"So Peter said they had two old hats you can have." 

Here, I sniffed the hats. And yes, they were most definitely used Amish hats. In Tennessee, the Amish do not use deodorant and work in extreme heat. The hats also had names written inside of them. Presumably,  so that when they take off their hats or church they can easily find their own again. (Again, thank you brain for coming up with a lovely reason for the names being there. Amish novelists, feel free to use my made-up information for research.)

All this aside, this still demanded a repeat of the information. "You told the Amish I wanted their hats?!?! So they gave me their used hats?"

"Yes," she replied, still looking at her phone, "they thought that was funny, but not as funny as us thinking they sacrifice cats during their church services."

"You told them I THINK they sacrifice cats during church!?"

Here she looks up and non-convincingly said, "Well, not you. But the kids at school have joked about it. Barbara and Peter thought it was really funny. They laughed really hard." 

Thus, when Ennis the beekeeper had Amish beekeeping veils to sell, I thrilled because I already had two used Amish hats (perhaps intended to show me that they are nice and do not sacrifice cats.) So, I purchased the veil.  

The gifted Amish hats were still in my mudroom. (They made good decor hanging on the hooks, okay, plus they aired out!) Sitting in a room without heating and air had made them brittle. Only one was still good. As directed I trimmed it to size:

Added the veil, took a picture, and then noticed the big rip on top of the hat. 

Visions of a hoard of angry bees finding their way into that rip and swarming my face filled my mind. (See, brains and their storytelling can be very useful.) I cut up a washcloth into tiny strips and Gorilla glued those strips.

So here is my final FIRST beekeeping hat! I'm very proud of it. It seems very Jane Austen-ish. Doesn't it?