The firewood situation is looking a bit dire, and our 'wood guy,' who was supposed to show up yesterday with the remainder of our order, didn't. Apparently he has laryngitis - at least according to his wife's cryptic phone message. We may be better off not getting another delivery from him, but for all I know, he may just show up anyway. I'm glad I only paid him half.
We got our initial delivery stacked - the front of three rows (the back 2 being the majority of our first 2 cords) - and it is sorely lacking in size for the amount paid....maybe 2/3 of a cord, if we're being generous.
We're also going through our wood faster than I had expected. It's probably not helping that we're new to woodstove management and aren't damping it to slow down the burn as well as we ought.
The new wood splits very nicely. It is indeed good quality - just not the quantity that we agreed on.
Today, while doing a mid-day check on the rabbits, I found that the smallest of the 11-week-old male kits had labored breathing, and looked to be exhausted and in distress. I brought him in by the fire, and could definitely hear crackling in his lungs when I held him to my ear. The nights have just turned quite cold, and I hoped that he might improve in the sheltered warmth. I called a rabbit friend, who agreed that it was probably pneumonia, and we would be needing a round of antibiotics if we hoped to save him. The reality of the situation sank in - butchering day is Saturday. I held him for a short while, and he seemed calm, and then slowly stopped breathing while I cradled him. It was fast. His 2 cage mates have always been bigger and more vital than him, though I did note they seemed to be protecting him this morning when I went out with breakfast and the eagerly awaited morning treat of grain. Goodbye little guy. I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier that you were in trouble.
While I was futzing about with hauling feed and grass out to the rabbits, I took advantage of the clear weather to have a very quick peek into our primary hive.
In the summer, you can hear the buzz of the colony from several feet away - if you know what you're listening for. We had closed up the floor and checked for stores 3 weeks ago, identified the queen and some new brood, and I felt quite confident that this hive was set for the winter. A couple of nights ago, I noticed that there was limited sound coming from the hive, and last night I tapped the wall purposely, which usually results in an increase of volume from the disturbed bees.
And I heard nothing.
A flashlight shone in through the entrance holes showed no bees guarding the entrance, and none visible beyond that.
Today, with a sense of dread, I opened the hive to find maybe 200 bees - as opposed to the literally thousands there might be on a warm summer day. No brood. No sign of a queen, and what looked to be a bunch of bees gorging on honey as they chewed the wax cappings off the finished stores.
A quick look into the secondary hive, the one that I had my doubts about, showed a considerably larger colony and some brood just emerging. No sign of newly laid worker cells. That indicates to me that those emerging workers may be the last of the brood we saw when we tried to transfer some new eggs over (it's 21 days to emergence for a worker). I was moving fast, since it was only 10 degrees at the height of the afternoon. I closed the hive up, and left well enough alone.
As the darkness and temperature fell, I donned my beekeeping veil and gloves, and went out to my formerly strong colony - and pulled most of the frames from the hive. There are still bees inside and I didn't have the heart to leave them without food for however many days they have left, but I'm also not willing to risk robbers stealing the honey that they worked so hard for. The remaining girls won't likely last long in the cold with their numbers too few to regulate the inside temperature. There is no large pile of bodies on the bottom screen, no sign of damage from rodents, or broken comb that might identify robbing activities. The colony is simply gone.
Not the harvest I wanted.
This definitely came as a surprise. I will continue to monitor our remaining hive, but I fear that they too will be gone within weeks as they age. For now, I will examine my bottom board and the hive body for more information in full light, and carefully examine the comb as I salvage the honey that was supposed to see the colony through the winter. In spring, we will have to start again.
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