Homesteading Middles: Hiding from the Honeybees

Three years ago we harvested honey from our resident honeybees. I was still very fragile from my stint in the hospital and cheered from the sidelines and took pictures.

Capitalizing on our lessons learned we set ourselves up to harvest the combs in the garage - away from curious buzzing stingers. Doing the honey harvest within the confined space gifted us a concentration of the million faceted smell complexity. Each frame would add its own layer of pollen rich perfume. It was a bouquet resplendent in flower complexity and sweetness.

A full box of honey filled frames can weigh about 50 lbs - the schlepping was not my job. My job was to gently pierce the capped off tops of the honeycomb with a tiny handrake.

Trying not to gouge too deeply into the wax, I followed the uneven contours of the flexible surface. Once both sides of a frame were shorn of their wax ends I slid the whole frame into the centrifuge, which holds 8 frames.

The next part was a two person job. One person turned the crank as quickly as they could while the other person held the tank so the screws didn’t come undone on the legs. Once the momentum slowed in one direction we turned the opposite direction. Finally, all of the frames were switched so that they had the opposite sides facing outward and we repeated the process. It helped me to bounce up in the air with each turn of the crank.

One and two and up and over and thank you bees for this sweet honey. Thank you for this amazing gift you give to us. Thank you for the miracle of what we are doing right now. Thank you thank you… and whew!

After spinning each set of frames we opened the spout at the bottom of the centrifuge. Immediately a gush of honey surged out into the sieve and the waiting 5 gallon bucket.

Honey got everyone. There was honey on the floor, on the table, on the tools, on our clothing, on my hair (from brushing it out of my eyes), and obviously all over the frames, the centrifuge and the bucket. We had started on Saturday afternoon and ran out of steam - half finished. That night I went to bed with many prayers to our ant population to not find the sweet stash.

Thankfully, the next morning, there was no evidence of ants. A few bees, however, were circling around the door to the garage - drinking in the sticky sweetness we had tracked out on our shoes.

Each time we would open the door we would move quickly and shut the door definitively. Despite our best efforts, two bees joined us in the garage. Loathe to kill the insects the same time I was saying gratitude prayers for what they were giving us - we gently shooed them out of the garage with honey soaked paper.

The next thing I knew, I looked up at the garage windows and there were dozens of bees buzzing around.

Oh Corinna, you forgot about the waggle dance! Those bees you put outside just told all of their friends where the best food is!

I started to work more quickly.

Then a high throbbing whine pierced the quiet of the garage.

Somehow one had figured out a way to worm its way in through the shut garage door. I started working faster.

One bee flew around the room, buzzing.

Thank you for your honey. We mean you know harm. We are sharing in your bounty. Thank you. We protect you from bears with the electric fence. Thank you for your beautiful sweetness.

A second bee landed onto the plastic table to drink spilled honey.

Thank you for your honey. Please don’t sting me. You can walk anywhere you want.

The third got caught in a spider web in the corner, whirring with frustration.

We plant lots of flowers for you and we give you beautifully painted boxes to live in. Please don’t sting me. Thank you for your honey.

The fourth buzzed around the harvesting equipment.

We are almost done and you can have all of this. All of your hard work we honor, thank you.

The fifth one started walking along the top of spun frames.

Thank you for your honey. We will plant more flowers for you.

Nothing like stinging company to incite speed, that was for sure. We finished up those frames lickity split.

With the last frame scraped, the crank spun, the second bucket of honey safely hidden away, and with both of us in our bee gear we opened up the garage doors to the waiting throngs outside.

This was the conversation as we carried the table away from the garage. “I can’t believe these girls have just given us over eight gallons. EIGHT GALLONS of honey and they are now going to clean up after us. That is incredible.”

“Bees are the best.” Was the earnest response.

“They are.”

And they were. Here is a clip of the frenzy with which those ladies licked up every last drop of spilled honey on the table, tools, frames, etc. We left the table outside for a week and they were still finding drips and drops. Lovely bees.

Thank you thank you ladies for your amazing honey. We are so grateful.