It's that time of year again. (Come to think about it, it's always "that time of year.") The time of year I'm referring to this time is bee season. Like the beginning of irrigation season, when I always wonder what's going to happen when I flip the switch on the irrigation pump for the first time, I never know what to expect when I open the hives for the first time after a hard winter. What condition are the bees in? And equally as important -- what condition am I in?
Every year is different. A couple of years ago, I had a lot of stress and anxiety around requeening -- I could never figure out why at the time. Last year, we received a bunch of lousy queens from our Northern California queen supplier, who had miserable cold, wet weather which meant the bees couldn't fly like they should, and a lot of the queens were poorly mated. (This year I'm hedging my bets by trying queens from two other breeders as well.) This year, I would rate the condition of my hives as "average." Which is a blessed state of affairs, all things considered. A lot of NM beekeepers lost colonies because of the extreme cold, but mine pulled through OK.
My condition this year is substantially better than a year ago. I'm looking forward to spending a lot of time with the bees (it's my trade, after all), and am thinking about adding some hives and hopefully a couple of new locations. A year ago I was tired, overweight, and blah. To combat this, I did a lot of things -- lost 15 pounds of unhealthy belly fat, started doing intervals 3x a week on my recumbent bike, worked out 3x a week on our weight machine, and drank a large green smoothie every day made from our garden veggies. As expected, my energy level went up and my blood pressure went down. Several years ago a friend told me that at our age, we are naturally declining, so we've got to work hard just to stay in one place. And she was right.
After a productive winter of homestead projects, I'm looking forward to spending several hours each day out with the bees. After 40 years as a beekeeper, I enjoy sort of knowing what I'm doing. But I scoff at the "master" label. As in Master Beekeeper or Master Gardener. Too much can always go wrong. At this point in my life I'm grateful not to fuck up too bad.
