Spring Garden

Baby chicks

Maybe it was the eerily quiet hour that occurred Friday after the kids went to school. I don't work Fridays, my summer veggies were all tucked snugly in their beds, and the rain negated the need of my usual watering ritual.  We were down to only 2 hens since we lost Hazel a few days ago. With my usual act now think later attitude, I called a number on Craigslist and the next thing you know, we were proud owners of 4 baby chicks.

Who cares if our second bathroom is now home to 4 stinky little poop-machines who need a space heater and protection from the wily cat and probably the dog? 

Today the temperatures finally warmed and the little girls were introduced to the chicken yard.  But because they are so small, we are keeping them separated from the big girls by that chicken cloth seen below.  I didn't think our sweet older hens would be anything but cordial to the little chicks.  They have always behaved with impeccable manners, but I was wrong.  This little gal managed to wriggle her way to the other side of the fence and was met angry peck on the head from Lucy.  She practically picked her up she pecked her so hard. 

 
 Ruby. our darkest red hen clucked and crowed like a rooster she was so disturbed by their presence.  I tried all my old standbys to quiet her, threw her some scratch, then I tried some lettuce, then dug a shallow hole so she could scratch for worms, (this has always worked when all else fails, but not today)  Finally I squirt her with a hose to quiet her down, but she got the point.

I was beginning to wonder if this whole baby chick thing was worth it, why I hadn't just purchased hens who ready to lay, when Asher, sitting with 2 chicks on his lap, turned to me and said "this is one of the best days of my life".  
OK, it's worth it.

Ode to Hazel

Thursday morning when I went to let the chickens out of their coop I found poor Hazel lying stiff in the corner.  She was 3 years old and had seemed fine the day before.  
Hazel had been the leader of the 3 hens and had survived being attacked by a fox 2 years earlier. (Casey our dog saved the day by chasing off the offending fox and apparently keeping him at bay all this time. It's hard to believe that a fox was so close to a fresh chicken dinner didn't come back to finish the job, but I guess knowing the ferocious Casey was guarding the hen house kept him and his marauding gang of friends away )  That's the ferocious Casey below sporting the blue bonnet.

Despite 22 years in the medical field, when I realized Hazel was not moving, I froze.  How can you tell if a chicken is dead?  I did what every self-respecting, medical professional turned-backyard-farmer does.  I called to my 8 year old son.
"Asher I think Hazel is dead, can you touch her and see if she is cold?" That's right, I couldn't even touch her.  I have worked in Trauma and ERs for the greater part of my life and I couldn't even touch my dead chicken!  Well not at first anyway.
Asher looked at me incredulously, tentatively reached in the coop and placed his hand on her still body a confirmed that she didn't feel warm.  Not exactly cold.  How cold did I mean?  Alright already, if you want to confirm the death of a chicken I guess you've got to do it yourself.  After my expert medical assessment I decided that yes, the old girl was indeed dead.   
Hazel was buried in a hasty ceremony attended by only her 2 siblings. They squawked appropriately, bobbing their heads and eying critically my newly dug grave.  So maybe it wasn't the recommended 3 feet, maybe only 2 feet or possibly, just barely one.  I planned on covering it with the compost bin and besides, I could not bring myself to throw her body into the trash as my husband recommended.  She had provided us with so much; the experience of holding a baby chick until it drops it's little head and falls fast asleep in your hands, watching that little chick mature into a scruffy teenager, and then full grown hen, and then peeking into the laying box to grab a warm egg and of course eating that same egg, the soft yolk broken over a piece of toast. I couldn't throw her away with the trash.
Good bye Hazel, we'll miss you! 

Seedlings

It never ceases to amaze to me that these tiny unassuming seed, when placed in the earth, can do such amazing things!  
I started my seedlings indoors the last week in February.  I live in Denver, and that gives about 8-10 weeks before I put them into the ground.


Seedlings at about 2 weeks

After 2 weeks or so I start bringing them outside and leave them in full sun on warm days or I put them under an old glass window on cooler days.  On my days off, I sometimes cart them in and out a dozen times trying to decide if it is too cold outside or not. Its a wonder my kids survived my rearing.  We don't use grow lights because frankly I'm afraid my husband will divorce me if I bring one more thing into our already crowded home.  We have a very small bungalow and have to impose very strict limits on bringing "stuff" into the house.  Anyone who has kids in school has some idea of what I mean.  I could fill another home with stuff the kids bring home from school in a year. 

seedlings at about 8 weeks

Anyway with all this carting of plant trays, it's no wonder that I look forward to the day when I can plant them and forget about them (OK, I won't forget about them until after the last tomato has been picked sometime in September, but I won's have to worry as much about them once they're firmly in the ground)

  



I know the advice of sage and wise old gardeners is to wait until 2 weeks after your last frost date to plant tender summer veggies.  And every year I swear I am going to follow this advice.  In Denver, that would be sometime around Mother's Day or after.  It's best to follow this advice  and avoid late frosts that could put an early end to a young tomato plant's career.
This year, April gave way to unseasonably warm days, with temps hovering in the high 80's many days.  The plants were already so big they were out growing their little pots, top heavy and tipping over and they were drying out much quicker too.  But I resisted the urge to plant. The empty beds, with their rich, dark inviting soil were calling, but I ignored them. 
I faithfully carried my trays of seedlings in and out of the house every day,  Finally, last week the weather was so hot I had to cover my cool weather veggies (peas and fava beans) with sheets to keep them from withering.  The hell with science, it sure seemed to me like all danger of frost had past. 



Last Saturday afternoon, with just 2 hours to spare before I had to work a night shift, I noted clouds gathering in the west.  A perfect time to put plants in!  They hate being planted in hot sun right? and we don't get many cloudy days in Denver, I needed to take advantage.  I planted like a mad woman, embedding that lusty black soil so firmly under my finger nails and in the tiny cracks on my hands, they'd never get clean. 
Later that night, while at work in a local ER, a patient came in hollering about how golf ball-sized hail had pelted him so hard he thought he had a head injury, not to mention huge dents in his car.  "What a storm! Worst storm of the year!"
By some huge stroke of luck, my plants did not succumb to the hail, they did not even seem to notice.  The next night the temperatures dropped dangerously close to freezing and my industrious husband found several tarps and poles and covered the beds.  
Next year, I"ll take that advice.
  

c

Honeybound

 Of course, my exhilaration that my hive had made it over winter and swarmed was soon to be be tempered.
As I fervently read every blog I could about TBH beekeeping, I started hearing the term honeybound in regards to swarming and it started to dawn on me maybe my bees were honeybound.
My top bar was purchased through Backyard Hive and the goal of the hive it to encourage the bees to do what they would do naturally and swarm.  This increases genetic diversity.  I now have a hive with a new queen who has mated with several different drones, hopefully feral, and will increase the diversity, as opposed to purchasing a queen.  Swarms are how bees increase their populations, and this is a time when our bees need re-populating.
I was happy they swarmed buy had read that if the hive is poorly managed they can swarm themselves to death.
I started asking on beekeeping forums and started hearing yes, it sounded as though my bees were honeybound.
Luckily Sunday April 29th I was scheduled to take an intermediate beekeeping class with Backyard Hive bee guru Corwin Bell. His knowledge, respect for nature and love of the bees is so apparent, I can't imagine a better teacher.
Needless to say the class was wonderful.  Sitting under an old apple tree,  the hogback mountains in the distance, bees humming all around, listening to someone talk about natural beekeeping.  What more could you ask for? On a sadder note, as we went around an introduced ourselves in the beginning of the class, many of the beekeepers told tales of loss of their  hives this spring.  It was devastating to hear their stories.  Hopefully some of the advice, insights and teaching points will help us all be more successful.
 
On of the most important thing I gleaned was that I will have to manage my hive rather than just sit back and watch those cute fuzzy bees coming and going, harvesting the last 2 bars of comb every few months. They are not in a natural environment and hence they need to be managed to help them be more successful.
My bees were honeybound and needed managing.

The fist year bees make a ton of honey for thermal mass to get them through the winter.  The next year their goal is to swarm.  My brood chamber was filled and they had stored so much honey up front, that I was noting brood in the far back of the hive, comb that used to be only honey.  Everyone had advised opening up the brood area by taking off or moving to the back, the bars of comb directly next to the brood,
Since my hands off approach (read: too chicken to do anything) last year, several bars of comb were crooked near the brood, and any attempts I made to straighten them ended in broken comb, alarm and panic (me and the bees) and tears (just me).
Corwin's class gave me the umph I needed to get my butt in gear and get  things straightened out.

The first thing I did was enlist the help of my delightful and very zen husband. (He was the one who wanted to get bees in the first place, and despite my protests that our 2 boys would not be safe and that I was terrified, I am now a beekeeper)

Anyway, we were well prepared and used a great idea from the class; keep a box nearby that you can hang each bar from and cover up (many less bees flying).  Armed with my new and very effective backyard hive tool, and my husband's calming presence, we went to work. No smoke of course.  We moved slowly and deliberately, we kept most of the bees covered most of the time, and were able to cut attachments without breaking the comb.  The bees were so peaceful.  

That was until we got close to brood and had crooked comb with honey on top, brood below.  Two bars broke and we quickly harvested (I was sad to take the brood, but we didn't have a choice and I had been advised better to take brood now and have straight comb. Of course there was honey dripping and bees at the bottom.  We cleaned up best we could, put the bars back, and they got the hell out of there. I can't believe how much easier it is with another person helping.  David is unflappable, and moves so gracefully. I can't believe I ever tried this alone.  It is a two person job. 
I am always so sad if I kill any bees. The hive seemed to bounce back well and by afternoon it was business as usual.  Lots of action at the entrance and loud drones zigzagging away.  We did note new on larva inspection so I think our new queen is doing her thing!  Your Highness. (they always say that on the Tudors so I thought it appropriate)


Here is a bar of honey comb we harvested.  There was too much commotion to take pics during the harvest.

Here it is in the strainer, waiting to be mashed up!  It is amazingly sweet and delicious.

I am hoping that now that my bars are straighter and we are rid of the crooked comb, maybe it will be easier to manage.  Hopefully no dead bees.

April swarm from top bar hive

They finally did it!  The bees from my top bar hive swarmed.  And what an amazing swarm it was.  They say a basketball sized swarm will do well. This was at least 3 basketballs in size!  Unfortunately they swarmed in the neighbors backyard.  She, for good reason, was freaked out but calmed down when we assured her that bees are the most docile when swarming.  My 9 year old son Fin demonstrated this by standing below the swarm and gently cupped the bottom-most bees.  He is fearless when it comes to bees and has read every beekeeping book we have, so he is a good bee advocate.  My younger son Asher's appreciation of the bees runs more towards their honey-making capabilities.

The neighbor was kind enough to allow a large group of on-lookers to congregate in her yard taking photos and running around wildly (my 2 boys).  She also didn't make a fuss when fellow beekeepers came by and sawed the large branch of her tree in order to catch the swarm.  Thanks so much!

Bees Galore

Welcome back Spring!
It is nice to get back to posting after a long break. The winter seemed especially cold to me since this was our first winter with bees, I fretted for them every cold snap but they seemed to get through it like champs! We winterized the hive as suggested by Backyard hive and I peeked with trepidation through the observation window every few weeks and wondered how an insect smaller than my thumb nail could survive weather I could barely manage with many layers of clothes, and probably not a small layer of fat.
In February we had some warm days and the bees started flying. By the last week in February they were actually returning to the hive with their pollen baskets full. I could not for the life of me find anything in bloom except a few daffodils, but the girls were very busy.
The hive was growing very rapidly and by the end of March, the hive was so full I had to take the last bar of comb. Their numbers were so great that they started bearding and stayed out every night despite the cold temperatures.
(some of the pictures above I photo shopped an accidentally stretched them out. Now the bees look like runway models, sorry girls!)
Then we noted drones. Lots of drones, and I knew that any day they would swarm. I have to keep reminding myself that the purpose of this hive is to increase genetic diversity and allow the bees to swarm. I just want to make sure that they don't end up swarming on a neighbor's eaves. I want them to be safe and successful