The tangle of dirty frames peep out of the binbags, evidence of procrastination. Frames that I should have cleaned in September. The wax would be more brittle in November, was my excuse then when I put them behind the old wooden shed. Out of sight, out of mind. Forgotten. Now it’s February. I look at the sad mess, pulled out only because the small wooden shed is on its last knees and is to be demolished. “I think I should give up.” thinks my guilty brain. if I didn’t keep bees then there would be no need to clean frames, there would be no need for a new shed. Yeah. Like that’s going to happen. Give up beekeeping. Nah! I step around the frames for now before pulling them into a pile in another part of the garden…not quite out of sight this time.
Your possessions process you. It’s amazing how Zen and philosophical I get when up a ladder handling corrugated sheeting. Would I even need the shed if I didn’t have all the accoutrements and paraphernalia of beekeeping? Probably not. Assembling the new shed, required a myriad of parts, many discussions, instructions read over and over, assembling videos watched, a few arguments, much praising and a few moments of pure of genius. 586 screws later it’s finished. All in a weekend. Not bad. That’s not including the week prep and the week after of.. um landscaping.
A week later I finally tackle the frames. It took only 2 hours to scrape the wax off, not so bad at all and very satisfying. I wondered why I took so long to get around to them. But it wasn’t me who spent 4 hours the next day boiling and sterilising them! That’s true support. I often wonder who the real beekeeper is although I’ve done my fair share of cleaning frames as in Double, double toil and trouble. Here’s a link if you want of find out about the why and how of cleaning beehive frames and equipment.
It seemed apt that the frames made their way into the new shed, as we stacked them in neatly staggered piles so the air would flow through to dry them.