Ye’ll Be Votin’ Tory Then.

I passed this on my way to the apiary this afternoon; it looks the sort of house that would be owned by a Conservative voter - apart from that one wee sign . . . .
 
I’ve been spending a lot of time at the apiary this month, often travelling there several times a day; it’s not that I’ve been doing much beekeeping – but because the girls have been a tad naughty. For very nearly two years the Lost Gardeners have been under the impression that honey bees don’t sting, but on May Day, a bee bit the most bee-friendly individual imaginable and, since then, its colleagues have been making a habit of attacking any unsuspecting passer-by. I have the benefit of being able to see them coming and recognise the signs of intent, but on several occasions I have been seen to run away and not return until I am properly attired.
 
I have been at a loss to know either the cause or the cure for their behaviour; I have had a different theory for just about every day, but the applied remedy has not worked. I have spent a lot of time worrying about the problem and lost a few nights’ sleep over it - which are the reasons for the recent neglect of my journal – but I have come to the conclusion that the hives have to be re-sited. A hundred yards should be sufficient, but that does create problems. The mantra is, “move them less than three feet – or more than three miles"; anything in between and they won’t notice that they’ve moved and will return to the old site; their home may be clearly visible four feet away with a distinctive shape and colour, but they won’t recognise it. My plan is to move three of the four hives away leaving what is, I hope, the most innocuous colony behind for the lost bees to join. That remaining colony can then be moved a couple of feet a day until it has re-joined its friends.


It’s an untested process – wish me luck.