The How's and Why's of Getting into This Bee Thing

Since my previous message had no idea it would become a blog, I figured some background was in order here folks. Installing the package was, after all, not the real beginning of this adventure, just the first event in the saga that actually involved dealing with the little winged wonders. And so now I give you my personal "How's and Why's of Getting into this Bee Thing."
Most people's initial response to my telling them I was getting into beekeeping has been... "Really... that's interesting. I'm allergic to bees." But that is often followed by genuine curiosity about what it's all about. Everybody has at least some curiosity about "bugs" and honey bees are among the most fascinating of the creepy crawly things out there. They are highly evolved social insects. The hive, which can number upwards of 60,000 bees, is really almost an organism in and of itself. Every bee in the hive has a prescribed function that at various points in their 4-6 week lives (for workers) keeps the operation running smoothly.
According to "The Beekeepers Handbook" by Diana Sammataro and Alphonse Avitabile, the queen has the smallest brain of the three classes within the hive. Yet she sits at the top of the hive hierarchy. Kinda brings some well known human institutions to mind, don't it? Nevertheless, she is by far the most important individual bee in the colony for one very important reason. She lays eggs, eggs, and more eggs. Upwards of 15-2500 per day. She is so busy laying eggs that nature has removed most other basic responsibilities from her, such as feeding herself. She has a continual retinue of workers who feed her, groom her, even remove her wastes. Nothing is to distract from her job of laying eggs to replenish the hive's population. They call her a queen to keep her smiling, no doubt.
Workers, who make up probably 95% of the population are non-reproductive females and, as their name implies, do just about everything for the hive's survival. They clean the hive, fight off enemies, take care of the brood, queen and drones, forage for pollen and nectar. You name it, they do it until their poor little wings are frayed and their little bodies just can't take no more. And they die. As a final disservice, their worn out little corpses are unceremoniously booted out the front door of the hive and soon forgotten...if anyone actually gave a twig about them to begin with. They are the ultimate team players my friends.
Drones, are the males in this land of sweat and toil and their sole function is to mate with virgin queens. Can I get a "Yeah, Baby!" The workers feed them and they basically hang around the hive eating, watching football and awaiting the day when their stud services are required. These are some layed-back fellas. They don't even have stingers. They are incapable of foraging for pollen or nectar. They clean nothing. There are downsides, however. If they successfully mate with a virgin queen, they die from the act. When the cold weather begins in the fall, the workers toss their lazy rear ends out of the hive. But on balance, I like their gig. If they miss out in the conjugal arena, they have several months of being wined and dined before they get the boot. Compare that to the life of toil and drudgery that is the workers lot.
Of course, that description of hive life is about as bare bones as it gets, but the fascination I have for the many nuances of bee life was one thing that got me interested in doing this beekeeping thing. I also have this retirement dream of having a small farm where I can grow things and have lots of critters. Living in suburbia, bees are about the only livestock that I can practice on. Plus, I like honey. I'd like to see if I can make some with my own bees. My hardworkin' girls!
To begin with, I read several books. "The Queen and I" by Ed Weiss; "Beekeeping for Dummies" by Howland Blackiston; "Beekeeping: A Practical Guide" and "Hive Management" by Richard E. Bonney and the aforementioned "The Beekeepers Handbook"; These and three or four others were my introduction to the hobby of keeping bees. I joined Beekeepers Association of Northern Virginia (BANV) and attended some of their meetings, and finally, I enrolled in their eight-week class on Practical Beekeeping. This whole process took about six months. I bought hives, tools, protective clothing and impatiently awaited the day described in my previous blog entry.
As you can tell from that entry, despite all the preparation and months of mental reheasal, things did not go as smoothly as I would have hoped! The fault of that can be layed down to one unforeseen consideration. Bees in books don't sail around your head at 100 miles per hour. Bees in books don't land all over you just to check you out. And when you read about them in books, their stingers are tucked safely away in the color photographs. When these things leave the pages and become reality you have to check all of your primordial instincts at the door and remain calm. On the whole, I think I did pretty well. But there was a period of about five to ten minutes where panic was the order of the day. I admit it. I did not remain calm. I confess that this 5 to 10 minutes probably cost a couple of thousand bees their lives. There! I've said it! So sue me!
But, as I've said, the vast majority of the bees did make the transition to the hive despite the clumsy ministrations of their keeper. This week, I get a second package for my other hive and I get to do it all over again. But this time, I will do better. I hope to keep the mortality levels down into the hundreds this time around. I'll keep you posted.