What's the Buzz?

Not long after our original beehives met an untoward end, our house was destroyed by Hurricane Andrew. In the ensuing aftermath and it's two years of chaos, I fell in love (dumb), got a divorce (smart), and entered a decade of single motherhood...bee-less.

It wasn't until I was made aware of the devastating effect that Colony Collapse Disorder was having on honeybees everywhere that I began to think about keeping bees again...

The more I learned about this problem, the more I wanted to welcome bees back into our garden.

I knew I would make an excellent foster mother.....we had the space, the blossoms, and a nice organic home environment. So I called the Miami-Dade Cooperative Extension, and they sent me a list of beekeepers in my area. As I went down the list, I was not met with enthusiasm by those I contacted. They were not interested, were worried about liability -- it was discouraging and I lost almost a year in the process.

Enter Steve, a wonderful Jamaican beekeeper who was happy to oblige. I carefully explained that I'd like to have maybe two hives to do my part for the insect community.

Two years later, I'm the proud mother of thirteen hives... approximately 650,000 buzzing little sisters. Steve comes every few weeks to check out the girls and add supers or perform other heavy management tasks.

Whenever I hear his truck I quickly don my beekeepers garb and eagerly trudge out to the hives for the next chapter in my beekeepers training. He is so patient with the bees, and with me. He wears only a veil and a short sleeved shirt. (Well, pants, too....I mean, he's not naked!) But no protection to speak of. I, on the other hand, am covered from head to foot and look ready to take a space walk.

My job is to smoke the bees while he lifts the cover and inspects the hives. And I am the honored guest in another world.

I get to see the fresh white honeycomb, a good sign, and whether the nectar has been transformed into honey by the unending efforts of bees fanning their wings upon it...Or does it need more time.

Every so often I get to see a queen, and I've even gotten a taste of fresh royal jelly. It may be good for you, but it's rather awful. Anyway, we leave it for the bees....the pollen, too. We just harvest the surplus honey, about three times a year.

Steve takes a little more than half, and I get the rest. Then I get to uncap the honeycomb, an art that I am hoping to master....and spin out the honey in an extractor. (Think: salad spinner....only vertical...and much, much larger). Then I strain out wax bits and any bees who may have flown in and drowned themselves in sweet and sticky bliss. Other than that, we don't process our honey at all, and I spend many happy hours bottling it up and putting labels on it.

I am so grateful to have bees back in my life, and my trees and flowers feel the same...