The adventure thus far

Here we are, in a third floor apartment in Alexandria, with the back porch full of painted hive bodies, and bees on the way. How did we get here? Actually, I guess it's not that good a story. But you get to hear it anyway.

Jacob and I are in the city right now pretty much purely because that's where the job was. Ourselves, we're country people right down through (which is funny, because Jacob grew up entirely in the suburbs), and we would like to have our own little homestead in the country someday (hopefully sooner than later). One of the things we always thought it would be cool to do is keep bees, and in fact we had a beekeeping book sitting around that we picked up maybe a year ago.

So, when it very much looked like we were going to be renting an old farmhouse on three acres out in Fairfax Co., we thought of bees. We thought about bees very hard for a couple of days, and looked around, and discovered that two days from then, on a Thursday evening, was the first meeting of a class about beekeeping, maybe twenty minutes away from our house. Well, we blinked a few times, then called up, found that it would be fine to just show up for the first class, and...did.

The class was great good fortune for us--every one of the eight two-hour classes was just packed with information, and the ticket price included another beekeeping manual, a little full-color pests and diseases booklet, a great pile of relevant catalogs, a mentor to help us through the first year, and a membership in BANV (Beekeeper's Association of Northern Virginia).

It also included dibs on ordering bees through one of the teachers. Now, the owner and realtor for the place we were trying to move in had accepted our application and the concessions upon which the application was contingent, about which we were very happy and excited, but had then dragged their feet ridiculously on moving forward. Bees, like many other aspects of agriculture, have to be started in the spring. So it was that the bees had to be ordered before the lease was signed.

And then the lease came, and it was utterly unacceptable, and it went back on all of the conditions established in our application, and it wasn't even internally coherent. So we sent a fax full of requested corrections and amendations, they said take it or leave it, and we would have been mad to take it, so we left it. Very upsetting, but it's in the past now, and at least in this case, that closed door has presented a variety of opened windows.

But all that left us with two packages of bees on the way and the supplies for two hives already in possession and no place whatsoever to put them.

That was about a month ago. About then, there was quite a scramble to find a place to stow the bees. Bees in the back yard are awfully convenient--you can pretty much just go out there and take a peek any time the weather's nice--but after all, most bees aren't kept in back yards, they're kept in scattered outyards, potentially many miles away from the beekeeper's home. That's pretty far from ideal for beginning beekeepers, but you can't just tell the supplier "Hey, just kidding, I didn't really want those bees anyway," and, after all, we did really want those bees.

The hopeful solution was actually struck upon by our mentor, who knew of another beekeeper in Alexandria who was scrambling to get rid of his hives because he is about to have to leave the country. His hives are located at River Farm, a horticultural garden right in Alexandria. As far as he knows, the gardens should still be amenable to the idea of having bees around. (I should point out here that arguably the most vital role that bees play is actually pollination, not honey production, and bees are very good for gardens). So the plan is to buy a couple of his already-established hives and install our own new hives at the same site.

Why buy his hives? Uhhh, I don't know--because that was the original proposition? Because they were already there? Because we need the location and that's part of the deal? No, really, it'll be very cool for us. For one thing, buying his hives like this should be cheaper than buying everything independently, so it's a good deal. More importantly, first year hive management is significantly different from second year hive management, and this way we'll get to have experience with both right away, and while we still have a mentor and the beekeeping club to help us when we're drowning. It'll be an unparalleled learning experience. Also, established hives produce surplus honey, which first-year hives cannot be expected to do. ;-)

So the situation as it stands now: Hives have to be inspected by the state-appointed inspector before they can be sold. The hives we're planning on buying should be inspected early this week--possibly even as we speak, for all I know. The man we're buying them from has the impression from River Farm that they're fine with the changing of the guard, and the hives need spring care, so as soon as the hives are inspected, he wants the changeover to take place. Meanwhile, our own woodenware (hive bodies, frames, etc. that make up the actual substance of the hive) is painted and pretty much ready to go, and our two 3-pound packages of bees are due to arrive on the 18th of this month. They will need to be installed in their new homes within the week of their arrival.

And here we are--we need to get back in touch with the current owner of the hives and create a more detailed plan for transfer, and I'm supposed to be painting a third coat onto the parts of our hive that we've decided to paint a rather lovely green, which, of course, allows the wood to show through more strongly than does the off-white we painted the hive bodies. When I get to it, I'll put in some relevant links and things, and I'll write again when we know more!