BeeAttitudes.buzz

Apiary update

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sun, 22 Jun 2025 16:06:05 GMT

Well the weather has been an issue this year. Most rainfall on record here in the Ozarks for April, May, and the first part of June. This has not allowed me to inspect the hives until this weekend. The gals are doing well but we’re in desperate need of the second brood boxes I put on top of the hives today.

Now that the rain has subsided, it is hot and humid. 100+ degrees with heat index today. The picture below shows what they do when it’s too hot in the hive. Bees cling to the outside of the boxes and flap their wings directing cool air I to the hive which rises in the hive and out the top vents… bee air conditioning

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First Inspection 5/10/25

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sat, 10 May 2025 20:59:50 GMT

April 27th we welcomed them—three swarms of fierce little workers and a queen in each, humming with instinct and memory, carrying something of Eden in their wings. And now, two weeks later, it was time to see how they’d settled into their new home.

The day broke just right. Sixty-seven degrees. Soft breeze. Sunlight gentle like a benediction. That kind of weather where everything feels possible again. Spring waking the bones of the world.

I began with the entrance reducers. A small thing, really. Just widening the doorway a little so the bees don’t pile up at the threshold. But even this felt like a kind of blessing—making space for life to come and go freely, unhindered, like God meant it to be. No more traffic jam at the front porch.

There’s a rhythm to inspection. You don’t just barge into a hive. It’s a relationship. You ask permission, in a way. A few puffs of smoke at the entrance. Then gently lifting the outer cover, slipping a little smoke beneath it. Letting them know I’m here. Letting them settle. Then the inner cover, same ritual. All of it slow, deliberate, respectful.

And then the hive is open.

Bees hum around my face, but they’re calm. The smoke works. They head down into the frames, clearing the way. I pull the outermost frame first, the one where the queen’s least likely to be. You move carefully. This is her kingdom, after all. One slip and you could crush her. You could crush so much more than her body.

Frame by frame, I check the signs of life. This is where wonder meets discipline. You’re looking for wax cells—they’ve started building them up nicely on the black foundation. You’re looking for eggs, smaller than rice, nestled like tiny white promises in the dark. You’re looking for larva, curled like commas of hope. Some still open, some capped in flat covers—those will be daughters. Others puffed out like bubbles—sons in the making.

The black foundation helps. It’s easier to spot what’s fragile, new, beginning. Kind of poetic, really.

And it’s not just eggs and larva. It’s pollen. Honey. Bee bread. The entire economy of the hive is on display. Order, purpose, abundance. It’s staggering, really. How something so small can carry so much glory.

I found all three queens. Young yet, but strong. Their laying patterns are dense, intentional, wide patches of life unfurling beneath them. As they mature, they’ll get easier to find. But they’re here. They’re doing what they were made to do.

And maybe that’s the real story here. Watching creation do what it was meant to do. There’s something in a beehive that speaks of the Kingdom. There’s a wisdom in their work, a fierceness in their unity, a glory in their order. The brood stays near the center, honey at the edges—warmth and provision working together to protect what’s growing.

When I put the frames back, I try to honor that design. Keep the rhythm. Keep the shape of things as they left them. Because they know something we’ve almost forgotten: life flourishes where order and love hold hands.

I walked away from the hives that day with the same feeling I get after a slow walk in the woods or a long, deep prayer. Centered. Humbled. Grateful.

There’s a gospel in the hive, if you know how to listen.

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Their here!!!

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sun, 27 Apr 2025 23:14:36 GMT

Today was the day! I picked up 30,000 bees, tucked into three nucs, and moved them into their new homes. A nuc is basically a starter colony, about 10,000 bees strong — mostly female workers, one queen, and maybe fifty drones mixed in. Each nuc comes packed into a crate with five frames: two filled with honey, and three loaded with eggs, larvae, and capped brood.

It was windy and a little on the cool side, so I had to move fast. There wasn’t much time for videos or photos, but I did grab a few. In one video, you can see some of the worker bees at the hive entrance, fanning their wings like crazy. They’re broadcasting the colony’s unique pheromones, signaling to the foragers in the air where to find their new home.

As I transferred the bees frame by frame from the nucs into their full-sized hives, I kept an eye out for the queens. I spotted the queens in two of the colonies, but the third slipped past me. I’ll give them some time to settle in and warm up before I go back in next weekend for a closer look.

The Telling of the Bees

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sun, 13 Apr 2025 16:00:29 GMT

As spring stretches her limbs and begins to warm the earth, something stirs in the apiary. In just a few short weeks, many of us will once again lean in close, draw a breath, and whisper to the bees.

"Telling the bees" is a centuries-old tradition, particularly observed in parts of England, Wales, and New England. The practice involves informing beehives of significant life events, especially deaths, marriages, and births. The origins of this custom are largely rural and date back to at least the 18th century, though it likely existed in some form long before that. American poet John Greenleaf Whittier beautifully captured this tradition in his 1858 poem Telling the Bees (below), where a mourner finds a young girl draping the hives in black and softly singing to them, announcing the death of a woman named Mary., and the historian Charles Fitzgerald Gambier Jenyns mentioned the tradition in his 1886 book, A Book About Bees: Their History, Habits, and Instincts.

In many parts of rural England and colonial America, it was believed that if the bees were not told of a death in the family, they would become distressed, stop producing honey, or even leave the hive altogether. The custom often involved draping the hives in black cloth and speaking directly to the bees in a calm and respectful tone. In some cases, a piece of funeral cake would be left near the hive as part of the ritual.

While modern science doesn’t support any biological reason for such practices, the tradition reflects the deep respect and attention beekeepers historically paid to their bees. Beekeeping was not only a livelihood but a way of life, and the bees were considered an integral part of the household. This practice reinforced the bond between the keeper and the colony, emphasizing the importance of observation, care, and consistency.

Today, the ritual of telling the bees survives mostly as a cultural and historical curiosity, though some beekeepers still honor it in quiet ways. It's less about superstition and more about preserving a connection to a way of life that valued the rhythms of nature and the creatures that serve it.

So as April gives way to May, and you catch the first warm buzz of a forager returning home, consider the old ways. Lean in. Tell the bees—not because they need to know, but because it reminds us of where we’ve come from.

Personally, after five years away from my hives, I find myself eager to return to this practice. There’s something grounding about standing at the edge of a buzzing colony and speaking softly into the hum. I’ve missed the rhythm, the quiet attentiveness, and the shared space with these remarkable creatures. This spring, I’m looking forward to telling the bees once again—of where I’ve been, what I’ve learned, and how good it is to be back.

Stay rooted in the craft,

—Dan

Telling the Bees

Here is the place; right over the hill

Runs the path I took;

You can see the gap in the old wall still,

And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook.

There is the house, with the gate red-barred,

And the poplars tall;

And the barn’s brown length, and the cattle-yard,

And the white horns tossing above the wall.

There are the beehives ranged in the sun;

And down by the brink

Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed-o’errun,

Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink.

A year has gone, as the tortoise goes,

Heavy and slow;

And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows,

And the same brook sings of a year ago.

There ’s the same sweet clover-smell in the breeze;

And the June sun warm

Tangles his wings of fire in the trees,

Setting, as then, over Fernside farm.

I mind me how with a lover’s care

From my Sunday coat

I brushed off the burrs, and smoothed my hair,

And cooled at the brookside my brow and throat.

Since we parted, a month had passed,—

To love, a year;

Down through the beeches I looked at last

On the little red gate and the well-sweep near.

I can see it all now,—the slantwise rain

Of light through the leaves,

The sundown’s blaze on her window-pane,

The bloom of her roses under the eaves.

Just the same as a month before,—

The house and the trees,

The barn’s brown gable, the vine by the door,—

Nothing changed but the hives of bees.

Before them, under the garden wall,

Forward and back,

Went drearily singing the chore-girl small,

Draping each hive with a shred of black.

Trembling, I listened: the summer sun

Had the chill of snow;

For I knew she was telling the bees of one

Gone on the journey we all must go!

Then I said to myself, “My Mary weeps

For the dead to-day:

Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps

The fret and the pain of his age away.”

But her dog whined low; on the doorway sill,

With his cane to his chin,

The old man sat; and the chore-girl still

Sung to the bees stealing out and in.

And the song she was singing ever since

In my ear sounds on:—

“Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence!

Mistress Mary is dead and gone!”

-By John Greenleaf Whittier

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Building the Foundation: A Day of Hive Assembly

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sat, 08 Mar 2025 22:11:21 GMT

Building the Foundation: A Day of Hive Assembly

Today marked a significant milestone in my return to beekeeping—I spent the entire day assembling three new hives, each one representing a promise of renewal after five years away from the apiary.

The morning air was crisp as I laid out all the components on my deck: bottom boards, brood boxes, honey supers, queen excluders, entrance reducers, inner covers, and telescopic covers. The scent of hot-dipped wax permeated the air, a familiar and comforting smell that brought back memories of seasons past.

Each hive would follow the same structure: a solid bottom board as the foundation, topped with two brood boxes where the queen would lay eggs and the colony would raise their young. Above that, a queen excluder to prevent Her Majesty from laying eggs in the honey stores, followed by two honey supers where the workers would deposit their sweet bounty. Finally, an inner cover and telescopic cover would protect the colony from the elements.

I chose hot-dipped waxed components for these hives rather than painted ones. There's something authentically beautiful about the natural wood finish, protected only by wax. These boxes will weather and age with character, developing a patina that tells the story of seasons passed. The hot-dipped wax offers sufficient protection while allowing the hives to breathe naturally and blend harmoniously into the landscape.

As I fitted each piece together, I couldn't help but reflect on how different things are now compared to five years ago. Each frame placed, each box stacked felt like another step toward reclaiming something I had lost—not just the physical practice of beekeeping, but the connection to the natural world it provides.

By late afternoon, three complete hives stood proudly on the deck, ready to welcome their new inhabitants. They stand as testament to resilience—both mine and nature's. These structures, simple as they may appear, represent new beginnings and the sweet promise of honey seasons to come.

Now all that remains is to welcome the bees to their new homes. The empty hives won't stay silent for long.

April can’t get here fast enough!

-Dan

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Want to support the bees?  Right now we are supporting our bees via selling beekeeping lessons and donations.  Check out the education hub for info on lessons or make a donation via:

Back to Beekeeping: A Fresh Start After Five Years Away

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sat, 01 Mar 2025 19:21:22 GMT

Five years. It’s been five long years since we last truly immersed ourselves in beekeeping. And now, as we prepare to return to the apiary, we do so with a mix of excitement, gratitude, and hard-earned resilience.

Like so many others, 2020 turned our world upside down. The winter of 2019-2020 was brutal, one of the coldest in recent memory, and we lost a significant number of our bees. We had planned to rebuild, to strengthen our colonies in the coming spring—but then COVID-19 struck. Lockdowns, uncertainty, and financial strain made it impossible to give our bees the time and resources they needed. Instead of expansion, we faced survival.

Later that year, the blows kept coming. Like millions of others, I was laid off due to the economic fallout of the pandemic. Finances tightened, and beekeeping—something that had once been our passion and livelihood—was forced onto the back burner. And then came the injury. A back injury that turned what should have been a temporary setback into a five-year struggle, keeping me from the physical labor necessary to properly manage an apiary.

Winter 2021 was devastating. The few colonies we had left were wiped out, leaving us with an empty bee yard and an aching sense of loss. We watched the seasons change, the flowers bloom, and the world begin to recover, but our hives remained silent.

But now, after years of healing and rebuilding, we’re ready to start fresh.

We recently ordered over 90,000 new bees, a tangible symbol of our return. We’re restructuring our bee yard, moving things around to create a more efficient, productive space. We’re planting wildflowers, ensuring that our new colonies will have abundant natural forage. And most importantly, we’re relaunching BeeAttitudes, our passion project, with renewed energy and a deeper appreciation for the resilience of both bees and beekeepers alike.

This time, we start with experience, with lessons learned through hardship, and with an unwavering commitment to nurturing both our bees and this community. If the past five years have taught us anything, it’s that setbacks don’t define us—our comebacks do.

So here’s to fresh starts, buzzing hives, and a season of growth ahead. We can’t wait to share this journey with you.

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Want to support the bees?  Right now we are supporting our bees via selling beekeeping lessons and donations.  Check out the education hub for info on lessons or make a donation via:

Buy the bees some food

Essential Beekeeping Equipment & Supplies Checklist

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sun, 23 Feb 2025 22:44:10 GMT

Starting and maintaining a beehive requires the right tools and supplies to ensure a healthy and productive colony. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced beekeeper, having the essential equipment on hand will make hive management easier and more efficient. Use this checklist to make sure you're fully prepared!

1. Protective Gear

Bee Suit or Jacket –…

Welcome to the Education Hub

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sun, 23 Feb 2025 22:21:20 GMT

Education at BeeAttitudes

Welcome to the Education hub at BeeAttitudes.buzz! We're excited to share our knowledge and passion for beekeeping with you through a variety of online courses, personalized tutoring, and hands-on instruction designed for beekeepers of all levels.

Upcoming Online Courses Our online courses will cover everything from beginner basics to advanced techniques. Whether you're just starting or looking to refine your skills, you'll find courses tailored to your needs, including:

Beekeeping 101 – Learn the fundamentals of hive setup, bee biology, and seasonal management.
Advanced Apiary Management – Explore topics like queen rearing, disease prevention, and sustainable expansion.
Harvesting & Processing – Master the art of extracting and processing honey, wax, and other bee products.

Personalized Tutoring & Instruction We understand that every beekeeper has unique challenges and goals. That's why we're offering one-on-one tutoring sessions to provide customized guidance and support. Whether you need help troubleshooting hive issues or developing a long-term beekeeping strategy, we're here to help.

Join Our Community Education is more than just learning—it’s about connection. By joining our courses and tutorials, you’ll become part of a thriving community of beekeepers eager to share experiences, insights, and support. Stay tuned for updates on course launches, schedules, and exclusive content available to our subscribers.

The Biggest Threats to Honeybees

Dan Blincoe ☦︎ — Sun, 23 Feb 2025 21:52:08 GMT

The Biggest Threats to Honeybees & How Subscribing to BeeAttitudes.buzz Can Help

Honeybees are essential pollinators, playing a critical role in our food systems and ecosystems. Unfortunately, these hardworking insects face numerous threats that jeopardize their populations. Understanding these challenges is the first step toward helping them thrive. Here are some of the biggest dangers honeybees encounter and how subscribing to BeeAttitudes.buzz and using our resources can help protect your bees.

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1. Varroa Mites: The Silent Killer

Varroa destructor mites are one of the leading causes of honeybee colony losses. These external parasites attach to bees, feeding on their bodily fluids and transmitting deadly viruses. Left untreated, Varroa infestations can decimate entire hives.