Archive for the ‘G & T’ Category

IMG_0390Flip to the Bee Side – Paul tells his tale about his bees

As I walked past my five hives of bees this evening, not paying much attention, I heard a deep buzzing noise coming from one of them. I bent my ear close to the hive entrance(there being no flying on this damp dusk) and the buzzing increased as if they were being disturbed. I glanced up and realised that I had failed to observe a medium sized swarm of about 5000 bees, clustered on the outside of the hive 6 inches from my face. Yikes! I thought, along with some other less Enid Blyton like curses!!

Have a Go Beeman.

My challenge, I decided, was to find a way of collecting, hiving and feeding the swarm, within the twenty minutes of daylight left to me. I had to think quick, and this is what I did.

Cakus Interuptus

Firstly, interrupt Pauline making Rhubarb cake in the kitchen to boil the kettle and make some sugar syrup. Then search for a suitable way of scanning the  bees off the flat wooden exterior of the hive. My eyes alighted on a box of 12 Schweppes tonic waters. The empty cardboard box, with it’s end cut off made a perfect scoop for bee collection. So I hoped.

Job Done!

I trotted off to the bees in the field, got my kit on, and slowly slid the tonic box, whilst holding it tight, flat against the hive, until all the bees slipped into the box. Amazingly, I collected all but three bees in a matter of seconds. Two minutes later they were in the new hive with a feeder full of syrup and a reduced entrance to discourage other bees from robbing.

Moral of the Tale 

a swarm in the hive is worth two in the bush !

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Bundi : town of wonder , town of delight, town of stepwells deep and mysterious .. almost as deep as the sewer the car drove into as we rolled into town…

down , down deeper and down

down,down, deeper and down

Arriving at the aptly named Paradise Hotel , mini havelli extraordinaire  ,the perfect Gin and Tonic in our hands we wondered at the strangely caged terrace bar and to the strains of Massive Attack  dj’ed by a crazy indian sounding like Guy Ritchie (Reservoir Dogs, Snatch movies learnt off by heart) we watched the blazing sunset over the walls of the stupendous palace and castle under whose shadow we cowered. But then the DJ leapt to his feet with more speed than befit a gentleman of his build  , pulled out an antique hand gun and fired off a shot across the bar at a large monkey which had crept down from the roof , opened the bar cage door and was about to nip in for a quick sharp half or at least the better part of a pizza he had his eye on… uproar , commotion and some consternation among bar guests ensued. Monkeys ! who’d have ’em ? Fortunately neither monkey sticks (to beat off the furry primates  )(as suggested by our jovial hotelier)  nor handguns, were required on our visit to the palace the following day ! And if you have ever tried to walk up a near vertical cliff face in flip flops forget it .. it’s like a lethal cousin of the cresta run ! On reflection , the monkey sticks would have come in handy as impromptu icepicks or grappling irons …

monkeying around

monkeying around

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