How to Assemble a Bee Hive Frame

I bought the frames and wax foundation to replace what the mice damaged. It came to £70. Two mouseguards would have cost £1.08. That's an expensive lesson. Not to mention the honey I will lose whilst my bees expend energy replacing the eaten wax and stores. On the other hand, my bee guru, Arnie, has given me some old frames and hive floors that used to belong to another beekeeper who passed away. I'll clean those up and repair them. The mice would have cost me even more without Arnie's generosity. I know I'll never neglect to fit mouseguards again.

Today I've been busy assembling lots of brand new frames and fitting them with wax foundation. They come flat packed - lots of odd-shaped bits of wood, sheets of beeswax stamped with a hexagon pattern and reinforced with wire, and 19mm gimp pins. You'll also need a hammer and/or pin punch, your hive tool, and probably a pair of pliers for removing any nails that go in wrong.

The first thing to do is to identify a top bar and snap off the foundation-retaining slat using your hive tool. Clean off any slivers of wood that remain stuck to the top bar and the slat.

Then lie the top bar on your work surface flat face down, and find two side bars. Orient them so the foundation grooves face inwards, then gently push them onto the top bar. They should fit snugly. If they are too snug to push into place by hand, tap them into place with a hammer using a waste piece of wood to avoid hitting the slotted ends and damaging them. Pin the top bar to the side bar through the side, not through the top. When the frame is laden with honey a nail through the top may not take the weight, with sticky consequences.

Now take a sheet of wax foundation and figure out which way up it goes. You should have three long loops of wire at the top. If you have two short loops it's upside down. Bend the three loops at right angles and gently slot the foundation into the grooves. If all is well it will fit snugly, but if necessary trim a little wax off the side.

Find the slat you separated from the top bar earlier, and put it back in place. Pin it with three gimp pins through the loops in the wire. Take care not to lose concentration and put your hammer through the beeswax. It's really annoying.

Nearly done. Now find two bottombars and gently fit them into the slots in the sidebar. Be careful not to bend the foundation at this stage. Pin the bottombars through the bottom, not the side. At some point you will want to partly disassemble the frame and remove the wax. If you nail through the sides it will be almost impossible to avoid damaging the frame if the pin goes through the side.

And that's it. I now have one complete bee hive frame. Only 39 more to go. Sigh.

Greenhouse

It's the time of year to make plans and dream big. Inspired by an Alternative Kitchen Garden podcast, I've fallen in love with these geodesic greenhouses. Geodesic structures are extremely cool, and it would be perfect in our north-facing garden because it catches solar energy from whichever direction it comes, not just from one long wall like a rectangular greenhouse. But I'm pretty sure I can make one myself without paying over a thousand pounds for a kit. I have some grand plans involving bamboo canes and polytunnel sheeting. Watch this space.

Pink Dresser

Steph has gone home. Dad is still here for another week and a half. We had loads of fun whilst she was here - yesterday we all went bowling with our other sister Lindsey and her husband Andrew. Then we all had dinner at a pub and had a whale of a time playing the "yes no" game. Then after we put the kids to bed, Steph and I headed out again to a Twelfth Night party thrown by some friends of mine (Hi to Sylvia and Ted if you're reading this!).

Here is a photo of the dresser Ed made to Steph's design, using mostly materials we had in the shed. We had to buy a sheet of hardboard for the back, and some cuphooks (not yet installed) so the whole piece cost us just over £3. I love it enormously and it makes me smile whenever it catches my eye. I needed some shelves to store a few items that tend to clutter up the kitchen. And I knew I wanted it to be a "funky" colour, rather than a "tasteful" colour. It had to be painted rather than woodstained, to hide the fact that some of the shelves are pine, and some are MDF whilst the back is made of hardboard.

Ed's Shelf

Ed made a shelf above the kitchen window, to store preserves and bottles of sloe gin etc. He did a great job, as always, and the end result is practical and really attractive. Every time I look at it I admire his handiwork, and mine, and get that wonderful smug feeling that comes from having lots of home-made preserves.

From left to right - blackberry vodka, lemon gin, 4 jars of chutney, 2 jars of cherry jam, 1 jar of mincemeat, 2 bottles of damson gin, 1 bottle of lime rum, 7 jars of damson jam and a really dreadful teapot in the shape of a bride and groom, which was a wedding present from an uncle with a mischievous sense of humour.

Smells Like A Brewery In Here...

Steph's here (I know she was just here a fortnight ago but she liked it so much she came back), so we've been busy as usual. Steph instructed Ed to make a shelf to store preserves and things, which he did (I'll show you pictures another time). We made five gallons of tea wine, five gallons of beer (from a kit, I don't know how to make beer from scratch yet but I'd love to learn). We sorted all the stored potatoes out and removed those which had become rotten. Let me tell you, rotten potatoes smell really foul. And we picked about ten pounds of mixed hedgerow fruit - damsons, elderberries, blackberries, sloes, haws and apples - to make 5 gallons of hedgerow wine.

We met our new neighbours, who told us to help ourselves to all the apples, pears, damsons and greengages we want from their garden. Another neighbour provided some empty beer and wine bottles from her recycling bin (we had to do some fancy footwork to explain why we were eyeing up her bin - she initially thought we were accusing her of crimes against recycling, or perhaps of having a drink problem). And we had a gorgeous lamb casserole with our own pink fir apple potatoes and roasted mystery summer squash, and drank lots of beer - well we'll need the bottles to bottle our own beer when it's ready!


Cartoon from climatecartoons.org. Click on the picture to enlarge.

Neighbourhood Recycling

Ed, my husband, is naturally reserved. He wouldn't dream of asking the neighbours if we could scavenge through their rubbish. My sister, Steph, on the other hand is blessed with no reservations whatever. So it was she who knocked next door and asked if we could have their old paving slabs when she saw theywere laying new paving in their garden. So now we have a heap of used paving slabs which we can either use in our garden to create new stepping stones in the lawn, or use on the allotment to define permanent paths between the cultivated beds.

I'm glad she did, because very soon afterwards the same neighbour knocked here to ask if we also wanted their old picnic table instead of throwing it on the skip. We have a couple of small-scale construction projects in mind and the table is made of good seasoned planks which would be great for the purpose.

In future I'll be more bold about asking for things I need which others are throwing away. As well as sometimes being told "Yes, help yourself", you also sometimes get offered other things you didn't know about.

World Exclusive Interview

Stonehead is a good friend of Bean-Sprouts, and a regular commenter. He has an active blog of his own where he talks about life on a croft in North-East Scotland, environmental and political issues. I'm fascinated because he has gone much further along the road we are travelling, buying a smallholding and living off the land. I interviewed him exclusively for Bean-Sprouts.

Bean-sprouts: Describe a typical day for you.
Stonehead: Hmm, no such thing as a typical day! I get up between 5.30 and 6am. I have a shower every second day to conserve water, then it's straight into getting all the breakfast things ready before making packed lunches. I then head out to do the morning chores, feeding and mucking out the chickens and pigs.

With the chores done, I head inside for breakfast with the rest of the family. The other half heads off for work, the Big Lad gets the school bus, and I take the Wee 'Un to playgroup. If it's playgroup duty day, then I'm out until noon or so helping keep an eye on the children with lots of making stuff and story telling. If it's not playgroup duty, then I have from 9.30 until 11.30 to get jobs done. This can be building chicken houses, working in the vegetable patch, working with the soft fruit and fruit trees, mowing grass, planting, topping, baking, cider making, brewing, preserving.

After collecting the Wee 'Un I either finish off the morning's work or play outside games with the Wee 'Un. If working, we turn it into a play session as well so he can help with parts of the job. The Wee 'Un helps me make lunch, we then do some quick baking before having a quiet play and do some reading while we wait for the Big Lad to get home and for the bakes to cook. With the Big Lad home, we feed the chickens then the boys play together outside while I do more jobs.

From around 4.30pm until 5.30/6pm it's a repeat of the morning chores, the other half usually gets home just as we finish. We eat between 7.15 and 8pm, so that the boys can chill out for a while, then off to bed. Then it's tidy up and relax time. I try to fit in a bit of blogging around then, but usually it's more like 10pm until 11pm as it's nice to spend a bit of time with the other half! Weekends are even busier.

Bean-sprouts: What made you decide to pursue this lifestyle?
Stonehead: We don't regard it as a lifestyle. It's our way of life. I've always wanted either a small farm of my own or a yacht. I like working with animals, I like working the land, I like tinkering, and I like working hard for myself and my family.

I'm a pragmatic green - I don't buy the spiritual, hippy, pagan thing at all. I think we have one world, we have to tread lightly, we have to use resources sparingly and we have to be responsible for our actions. I do get a lot out of being outside in all weathers and enjoy being part of the natural world, but I'm not the communing with nature sort.

One thing I definitely am is an anti-consumer. I have a pathological hatred of being sold stuff that I don't want or need. I accept that I and my family have certain needs that can only be met by shopping, but I try to do so as little as possible. I'm a huge fan of bartering, trading and giving, I love making things and I like being minimalist. This can cause friction with the other half and the boys, but as we're generally in accord most of the time I can fudge on certain things (like TV!).

While I was very good at my career, I was always conscious that I was mainly generating money for people for whom I had little time but I persisted until we had sufficient money to be able to just afford the croft. However, I regarded the whole wage-slave thing as total BS, so once we were in a position to escape to the hills, I grasped it with both hands and got out of there. So why do I pursue this life? Because it's "my" life, just as it's also the other half's. We both choose to share it with each other. (The poor lads haven't much choice at this point!)

Test (Chicken) Run

It's been raining a lot lately, so the improvements Ed and Steph made to the chicken run have been thoroughly tested. I'm pleased to say they seem to be working very well so far. The run no longer gets muddy and wet whenever it rains.

Chicken Run

I cleaned out the henhouse and the run at the weekend. It's a dirty job certainly, but it is very satisfying. I also cleaned out my 6-year-old daughter's bedroom at the weekend and believe it or not shoveling shit was more enjoyable than sorting out bits of pink plastic junk.

My husband Ed and my sister Steph fixed the drainage problem in the chicken run by building a small retaining wall to stop the mud washing onto the paving. They also laid crazy paving slabs on top of existing paving to keep the chickens' feet out of the water. We'll have to wait for the next rainstorm to see if it really works. I don't think we'll be waiting long.

Washing day

I used to just fling all the laundry in the tumble drier, no matter if there was a lot or a little, even if it was sunny or breezy outside. I never ever dried on the line. I didn't even have a line. As soon as I started thinking about living more sustainably, cutting down on the tumble drier was a high priority.

But let's face it, not every day is a good drying day. June and July were beautifully dry and sunny, but August has been a bit of a wash-out. So I went shopping for an indoor washing line that wouldn't be an eyesore when not in use. We used to have one a bit like this, but it had got tangled and snapped so we threw it out when we redecorated. However I couldn't find one anywhere, so I decided to rig one up myself with a few wall hooks, an eyelet, a cleat-hook and some clothes line. It takes a full load of washing and dries it overnight whatever the weather. And when I don't need it, I can wind up the line so all you see is a row of hooks screwed into the wall.

I've got an A-rated (i.e. energy efficient) tumble drier, but I'm going to see if I can get by without using it much. That should cut my electricity bill, and of course do my bit to reduce global warming (not to mention sweater-shrinkage).

Click on the cartoon to enlarge it if you can't read the text. If I make it any bigger it messes up the sidebar.

Cold frame

Today is our 13th wedding anniversary. Traditionally one gives lace, but we agreed on our own rules for gifts this year, in keeping with our goals of self-sufficient living.

• Maximum spend of £20
• Gifts to be second-hand, recycled, or hand-made
• Gifts to be thoughtful, personal and appropriate

I gave Ed some second-hand books I bought on eBay, by one of his favourite authors. He made me a cold frame out of recycled materials, for the allotment.

I am delighted with it and couldn't wait to find the right spot for it. I'll soon be filling it up with seedlings of winter veg, like winter cabbage. Already the weather is cold enough that little seedlings will benefit from the shelter.

I love my hand-made, recycled, thoughtful cold frame. Much better than any silly old lace knickers.

Compost heaps

The kids helped me make two compost bins out of the pallets we picked up yesterday. I've already cut down a bunch of comfrey to put in the first one, and trained the boys to pee on the heap. Eleanor will have to pee in the toilet shed, but perhaps I can give her a bucket and she can carry it back to our plot and pour it on the heap. I've also emphasised to the boys the "pee only" rule. No other toilet products are allowed on the heap. Not human products anyway. The chicken manure will certainly go on the heap.

We made a small bonfire out of the scraps of leftover wood, which kept the kids fascinated for a couple of hours. Next time I'll bring some spuds or sweetcorn or marshmallows. The kids ended up roaming around the plot looking for stuff to burn, and I had to chase around after them asking people "Did you give that to them or have they just pinched it?".

Peas and beans are starting to grow - too small to pick just yet, but it's a matter of days.

For you, Tommy, ze war is over

Spent the day putting the final touches to the chicken run. I reckon it's now totally chicken-proof, cat-proof fox-proof (although I'm aware those are famous last words).

My favourite thing about it is that it didn't cost a penny. We built it entirely out of materials we already had, and hadn't even paid for in the first place. For example, the chicken-flap has a hinge made out of the woven nylon handle of an Ikea carrier bag, cunningly removed in such a way that the bag is still useable.

Went round to the neighbour who helped us round them up twice. I reassured them that the chickens were now securely contained, and gave them four eggs as a thankyou.

So hopefully that's the end of the chicken dramas. They're still free-range, just not quite as free-range as they had been, but that was altogether too free-range for my liking.

This means war

The bloody chickens escaped again yesterday. We all came home from the library to find 3 neighbours rounding them up from various gardens in the street. We can't figure out where they're getting out. Everything from ground level up to 3 feet is surrounded with chicken wire, and I've never seen either of them fly unless they're being chased.

Ed has a theory that cats are getting in and spooking them, causing them to fly over the fence. We don't want to clip their wings because then they wouldn't be able to get away from the cats, so the only solution is to keep the cats away from the chickens. That means building a pen.

So today we've been making a cat-proof chicken run using the timber we saved when we took out a stud wall in the kitchen, and the chicken wire that we found in the garage when we moved here. I always like making something for nothing. Especially when the resource we are penning in is only providing 50pence worth of eggs per day, I don't want to spend £200 on timber to protect it.

The chickens haven't laid today. Maybe it's all the people in the garden all day long hammering and sawing which has upset them. Or maybe it's because they know their days of complete freedom are numbered.

Oh, and Pippa (the scarecrow http://bean-sprouts.blogspot.com/2006/06/meet-pippa.html) is dead. She was there last night at about half past eight but this morning she was thoroughly dismembered and most of her is missing. So near to the fence I suppose she was always going to be a vandal magnet, so I don't think we'll replace her. Rest In Pieces, Pippa. You may rise again on the smallholding, but you never stood a chance on the allotment.