All's Well That Ends Well

The bees are gone, and they don't have to move again. Hurrah!

Two lovely septuagenarian blokes from my local beekeeping association came late last night and helped me move the hives to an out-apiary (a place you keep your bees that's away from home) a few miles away. I'd met one of them briefly at a meeting, but the other I hadn't seen before. Yet both of them seemed positively delighted to help me out, and kept offering me advice and encouragement and bits of extra equipment until I felt quite overwhelmed with all the beekeeping love. Then one of them gave me a big hug (both of us in head-to-toe beekeeping suits) and said "We're all in this together, love". Ahhh.

So I feel happy and confident again about keeping my bees. It's a shame they're not at home because I liked looking out of the window and watching them going about their business. They're supposed to really improve gardens with all the pollinating they do, and I was looking forward to extra fruit on my trees and extra flowers in my flowerbeds. But they had to go. At least they're still mine, I still get to work them, and I get the honey and beeswax and so on. Also I've made two new friends, and I don't even think I've lost any.

That reminds me, I must try to speak to the postman.