Season’s Greetings

So, our school holidays went down like a lead balloon. As the term ended, the playground plague was activated with warlike precision. Reminds me of the previous holidays actually – a time to puke, a time to cry, I wish that cough had passed us by. Four spluttering, snotty weeks later, the 100-day cough has ripped through all but the youngest of my four kids.

Lemon and honey drinks have been the standard, and it means a lot to know the origin of the honey. Heck, my kids have been devouring it straight out of the frames, cull combs from the cleaning crew. Tastebuds differ. My six-year-old is keen to eat black wax, weirdly, along with the honey, pollen, and bee bread alike. The youngest is my honey muncher, all honeys, all the time, more than what would make anyone else sweet-sick, yet she has avoided the dreaded lurgy.

Surveying for new apiary sites, at the top of the world. 

As have I, but not just from scoffing honey. My dad firmly feels that everything bee related primes our immune system. At almost half his age, he thinks I have so much ‘get up n’ go’ that no flus can catch me, and anything else is left for dust. I believe him. Beekeeping keeps you on form, mentally and physically invigorated, and too pig-headed to let anything stop you from bee-ing where you need to bee.

Our rounds this month have seen a growth, the upside of the annual curve. In comparison to last year, many more hives went completely broodless for the winter period. Now that the shortest day has been and gone, early pollen and nectar sources are sparking up the bees, and frames of brood are multiplying. The flipside to condensing hives over winter, conserving resources, is that we are now adding back frames of honey and pollen to keep up with growth and boost expansion.

Acacia and five-finger blossoms are emerging, while gorse and Spanish heath have been at it for a while. Himalayan honeysuckle has disappeared with the frosts, and prolific flowering tree lucerne is drawing crowds of plump kereru. Still, some sites suffer a pollen dearth.

After our run-in with varroa earlier in the year, we quickly got levels under control using oxalic acid sublimation. Now, with a manageable mite load, all our hives have been stripped with oxalic acid staples. Sticky board results show we are on the right track, and we will never again be without ‘OA’ in our arsenal.

Next up, my dad is chomping at the bit to administer formic acid, to cleanse and refresh the colonies, and unapologetically murder any mites left on bees or under cappings. We will be able to apply this acid treatment when daytime ambient temperatures have risen, to allow sufficient vaporization of formic throughout the hives.

There has been beautiful weather for popping lids, and we even got to work with the boss this time around. I haven’t been intensively through hives with the old man since pollination last year, and I’m quick to pick his brain on any and all apiary matters. Sometimes tempers flare and did I mention anything about pig-headedness? I know better than to argue with the boss though, and as an inborn mediator, I hold space to becalm the storm.

I also know to stop while I’m ahead, so I’ll leave you with the miracle of the spring build up, and I’ll see you next month, hopefully up to my elbows in bees. 

Season’s greetings,

-Aimz

Aimz is a second-generation commercial beekeeper in the Bay of Plenty who took up the hive tool full time at the end of the 2024 honey season. Formerly a stay-at-home mum to four kids, she has now found her footing in the family business.