Honeybees are in peril. You probably already know this from the many news reports over the last few years about mites and Colony Collapse Disorder.

This past Saturday, many local beekeepers got more bad news. A truckload of honeybees bound for Minnesota from California encountered difficulties that led to all the thousands upon thousands of bees dying en route.

Many beekeepers, myself included, replenish their honeybee populations each spring by buying “packages” of bees from suppliers in the south or California. Packages include two or three pounds of worker bees and a queen that establish a new colony. We often use packages to replace colonies that didn’t make it through the winter.

We need these packages to arrive in the spring in so there’s time to rear enough worker bees to gather nectar when lots of plants are blooming. If there are not yet enough bees when the most nectar flows, nectar will be left ungathered. That means less honey, and perhaps more importantly, incomplete pollination of crops such as apples, berries, melons, cucumbers, pumpkins and so on.

I feel badly for beekeepers, some of whom are fresh from the University of Minnesota’s beekeeping class and eager to put their new knowledge to work. We need all the beekeepers we can get. Others affected are people who depend on honeybees for part of their income. Some, like me, just enjoy working bees because it grounds us to the changing seasons and we appreciate the magic of making honey.

I also feel badly for the local distributor who has to answer lots of questions from those of us who are trying to figure out what to do now. He’s been great. And I know it has to be a very painful experience for him. If his customers don’t have bees, they won’t need bee supplies, which he sells, either. I want him to stay in business. I feel, too, for the bee supplier in California. And the truck driver. And farmers. And, of course, bees. As if they didn’t have enough challenges.

And I feel a little frightened that an accident in a storm two states away can impact so many people here. I can’t help but think about how tenuous our food supply chain can be. It’s mighty easy to take for granted that what’s in my refrigerator now will always be available. I might complain that it costs more to restock it, but at least it’s available.

I don’t want to over react to this accident. After all, we’ve got two hives that did make it through the winter, so even if we don’t get the four packages we ordered, we are still likely to have enough honey for baking and tea. But I’m keenly aware that others might not be so fortunate. Then again, I might not always be, either.

So, what did you learn in your garden this year? Here’s my list:

1. Red plastic mulch is alright, but it’s a pain to put down. Entertain the neighbors and decide to do it on a windy day.

2. Green plastic tomato supports were great in May, but burly ‘maters popped off their arms and made them look like weaklings by August.

3. If you plant several kinds of sauce tomatoes and they all grow, you’ll be standing in the kitchen at midnight making tomato sauce several nights a week in September.

4. Potato beetles suck.

5. If you want cucumbers, you actually have to get around to planting them, not just buying seeds and saying “I should get the cukes planted today” until fall.

6. Oregano is wonderful on homemade pizza. I need to grow much more of it.

7. You can grow peaches in Minnesota. At least this year.

8. Planting beans and peas is a nice way to feed the local wildlife.

9. Pollinators like honeybees need all they help they can get.

10. One of the most satisfying things I can think of is sitting down to dinner and counting up the ingredients that came from your garden.

On Labor Day, our labors churned out sweet success. The bees produced some bee-autiful wildflower honey.

The bees store the honey in cells on frames. To get the honey, Jaime uses a hot knife to remove the wax caps on the cells, while Robyn (left) and Nikie offer a hand.

Any cells that are still intact after the hot knife get scratched by Deidre, wielding the funky yellow fork.

Then the frames go into the extractor, a stainless steel drum that is cranked by hand. Centrifugal force pulls the honey out of the open cells. It collects at the bottom of the extractor.

Cranking the extractor provides a great upper body workout!

Honey (with bits of wax) pour out the bottom of the extractor into a filtering bucket.

Once the honey has had a chance to settle through two filters, it’s time to bottle!

From IvanaMarzipan:

It’s not a bad movie (well, ok, it is that, too). It was my weekend.

We inspected our honeybee hives on Saturday morning and were startled to see that two of our newer hives had no brood in them. No baby bees means no queen bee is laying eggs. That’s bad. We called Jim Kloek at Nature’s Nectar, our bee expert. He said it was too late in the season to introduce new queens, and told us how to add the bees from the queenless hives to our other hives.

“But you have to make sure they haven’t swarmed,” he said.

I turned to Deidre, my partner in beekeeping and life, and shook my head.

“Nah, I don’t think they swarmed,” I said.

“Me neither,” she said. “They have plenty of room.”

Just 15 minutes later, Deidre was mowing the yard when she stopped abruptly in front of an apple tree and shouted for me. There was a swarm of honeybees clustered on a branch. We looked at each other. We were stupid. And lucky to have happened upon the swarm. But, now what do we do? Time to call Jim again.

Following his instructions, we got out an empty box and positioned it below the swarm. Then fully clad in my white coveralls beesuit, sweating profusely, I climbed the apple tree and layed out on the branch. I was very aware that if my neighbors didn’t already think I was strange, this would provide ample evidence. Then I vigorously shook the branch.

A good clump of bees fell right in the box and Deidre covered it. After letting the bees settle down, we took them to the beeyard. In a few days, we’ll see if there’s a queen in the box. Then, we’ll have to call Jim again to plot our next move. In the meantime, I’ve got to do some homework and see if I can figure out why the bees swarmed in the first place. I just love a good mystery, don’t you?