Rainy Days And Marmalade

We've come into a patch of what's called 'winter weather' here on the Wet Coast, meaning that it's been raining - most days, all day, for several weeks.  Can't complain too much - we don't have to shovel it! We were lucky to have a few scattered dry days spread out over the month - the New Year's bonfire at the neighbors' house would have been considerably less comfortable while sitting in the wet.  As it was, we merely had to stand up occasionally to switch from burning our shins to thawing our backsides.....

It also meant that it was high time to find some organic citrus, settle in for a few hours, and get back to a family tradition that began some years ago.  While my dad's favorite preserve was Black Currant jam, for which fruit I searched the Farmers Markets and eventually began an annual pilgrimage to a local U-Pick (and which we eventually began to grow for ourselves), my mother settled firmly into an appreciation of a 3-Citrus Marmalade that I made once, on a whim.  Not the Apple Butter, gently spiced and cooked down from our own apples, or chunky Strawberry Jam, bright with the taste of summer in our back yard. Nope - a recipe that most marmalade makers would call cheating (you used boxed pectin - gasp!), from imported, tropical fruit.  Oh well, after all, we've made Durian Jam for the Malaysian side of the family from frozen fruit shipped across the planet. I'm sure the neighbors wondered what the heck that smell was, but it tasted quite good.

So, with a fire in the woodstove, armed with vegetable peelers, a sharp knife, some grapefruit, lemons, oranges, and TV shows on the iPad, I set about peeling and dicing the rind.

While I had all of that citrus on hand, I sliced up some organic Meyer lemons and covered them with a few spoonfuls of our honey - for a Vitamin C boost to add to my morning tea.

I like to use red grapefruit in the mixed marmalade with lemons and oranges, because the added color makes for a prettier finished product.

Of course, while I was buying all of that citrus, I may have overestimated what I needed - so I waded through my preserving books, and  saddled myself with the extra work of making a Grapefruit Marmalade....

and a Lemon Lime Marmalade. Both were more traditionally steeped overnight, the Lemon Lime including the seeds (in the tea ball) and the whole fruits, thinly sliced, making for a sharp, bitter tang in the finished preserve.

The finished product: 3-Citrus, Ruby Grapefruit, and Lemon Lime Marmalade. 

Bittersweet

I was out examining our remaining colony of bees today, since the clouds ran out of rain and the weather changed to cold and misty. There are still a significant number of cranky girls in residence, so I again left them alone for a clearer day with better light, and a chance to do an inspection in my veil with another set of hands. There is still the possibility that I missed a queen in residence, so I will make very certain I know what's going on in the hive before I decide what to do next.

The comb that had been accumulating in the kitchen was partially dealt with over the holiday slowdown, and I cut out just the parts of comb that were completely capped - signifying finished honey that won't spoil or ferment in storage. I then broke that comb down to put through my very basic honey extractor.  The usual method for honey extraction when you're keeping a top bar hive is called 'crush and strain,' which is a very apt term.

In the kitchen, I separated out only the comb that contained capped honey - the remainder of the wax, and the top bars were put to the side.

With some patience and my large potato masher, I made sure that I broke up the capped cells, reducing the wax and honey to a mixture that could be strained through the three grades of mesh that came with my handy-dandy crush and strain contraption. 

Yep, a food-grade bucket with a 'honey gate.' Don't worry - it wasn't expensive!

With the help of the heat from the woodstove, and lots of towels and newspaper to catch any spills, I slowly added the mashed mixture to the first of three sieves, scooping out the spent wax that remained between additions, and we patiently waited.

In the end, things got quite sticky, but it smelled wonderful while I was working, and after a couple of days we were able to cover more surfaces with towels and gather our small harvest of honey.  

The wax itself will be rinsed outside to make sure we don't add wax debris to our plumbing, then melted several times in water, to allow me to remove as much debris as possible. Finally, I'll strain it through cheesecloth or an old t-shirt into the waxed milk cartons we've been collecting. The cartons can simply be torn off the cubes of pure, cooled, solid beeswax in the end, and the wax can be used to make candles and salves in the future.

Orchard Work

We've been slowly continuing our work in the orchard, as the rain allows, and as leaf collection and rabbitry cleaning provide us with mulching material. Around the large Bing cherry tree, we've filled in the branches and garden debris with topsoil, planted black currant and gooseberry bushes we propagated in preparation for the move, and scattered snowdrop and daffodil bulbs where they'll get early spring light. Everything was covered with a good helping of bark mulch. Wayward deer, whose path goes clearly through and beyond the orchard trees, have been exploring and making a bit of a mess around the edges.....

The fruit bushes were spaced out in their pots before planting, to make sure they wouldn't be in deep shade, or close enough to encourage pests to congregate.

Some of the newly planted trees are now surrounded with their own hugels of compost, branches, soil, and mulch.  I'm  intending to plant divisions of horseradish under the 2 new cherry trees. which is supposed to be a good permaculture guild match. 

We'll finish up around the trees as the yard and animal clean up continues, taking things one day at a time.  In the background, you can see we've built another compost area, to allow us to collect debris from the orchard.  In the future, I plan to plant some comfrey in my composting areas, to encourage cutting of leaves to add to the layering process.

 The piles are still impressive, but we're working our way through our soil and mulch. Adrian was on wheelbarrow duty today, while I was laying down the last of the cardboard and tidying up the fallen leaves.

Expanding The Orchard

We had our first bulk delivery of 11 yards of soil delivered to the new property this week, and in a few days, that pile will be joined by 12 yards of alder chips from a local sawmill.  The majority of these piles will be used for the hugelkultur in the orchard and under our berry bushes, though some soil will hopefully form the base of a growing area for tomatoes next year. There's no budget right now to buy more amendments, and the trees need more TLC because we will hope to benefit from them for the next 20 or 30 years.  Case closed.

The delivery truck's arrival took me back to our last property, where the neighbors must certainly have thought we were odd - every year the sound of beeping would accompany the arrival of loads of mulch or gravel or soil delivered to our driveway - depending on the given project.  I'm sure they wondered where it all went. Days would pass while we loaded endless wheelbarrow loads in the evenings, to haul our materials around the back and into the garden. Sometimes we were lucky enough to have volunteers who actually wanted to move gravel and dirt - they were special people! I posted a picture of our load of soil on Facebook, and my former neighbor - a fellow gardener who harvested our garlic for us as we loaded the last moving truck - gave it a thumbs up. She certainly remembers.

Our current orchard includes both plums and cherries. The Italian plums are somewhat self-fertile, but would benefit from the addition of another European Plum variety for fruit set (European and Japanese plums do not cross pollinate). I verified that the nearby small nursery was bringing in bare root Peach Plum trees (a European Plum), and told them I needed 2. Oddly enough, the Bing and Queen Anne cherries that are planted here are not known to cross pollinate, and I believe wild cherry trees and a couple of tiny sour cherry trees in the orchard were the only thing ensuring a crop. We decided to add a Lapin and a Stella Cherry, both of which will essentially cross with every cherry we have. 

Knowing the bare root plants were due to arrive in late November, we had planned ahead and dug 4 holes (3x3x2) with adequate spacing in the area of the original orchard several weekends ago. When the nursery called to say the plants had arrived during the freeze this weekend, we drove over and picked them up, ready to get the tender roots protected in the soil. We wanted to mix some of the newly delivered garden soil and a bit of rabbit manure in with the original soil from the hole to give them a good start, but still encourage the roots to expand outward seeking nutrients in the future. 

I was patting myself on the back for planning ahead, glad we didn't have to try and break frozen ground - and then we came to the realization that those piles of dirt beside our nicely dug holes were quite frozen.  Adrian and I managed to chip apart the hard shell of dirt and ice to mix some of the underlying old dirt together with the new, and we hammered in rebar salvaged from around the property (those that weren't essential to holding up the crazily canted fence posts), so that we have a support to tie the tree to once we have finished tamping and settling the trees in their holes over the next few days. In our area, planting at this time of year generally assures that nature will water in the new tree over the rainy season while it is dormant (and rain is due later this week).  Planting in the spring or summer would require careful watering several times a week to keep a new tree safe from damage from exposure.

The stick across the hole shows us the level of the soil, allowing us to position the fruit tree graft above the soil line, to discourage the root stock from trying to grow.

Planting trees in sub-zero weather? Metal.

Varroa Destructor

My investigation into what happened to our strong, 'ready-for-the-winter' hive is still rather circumstantial. I intend to do more research this winter, and to become involved in the beekeeping community on Vancouver Island. There are local monthly meets after the rush of Christmas is over. It disturbs me greatly, but we may need to start chemically treating hives while we adjust to the reality of keeping bees in our new location and to the current threats to their safety. Hopefully I will find some beekeeping hobbyists who can share their experience and advice on the least invasive, least poisonous ways to help our future colonies remain strong and healthy.

The fact remains that there are not enough bodies, and no visible damage to explain what really happened. That is, after all, the confusing situation with honey bees the world over. I tend to lean towards the idea that a combination of stressors is causing the decline in bee populations. Was the move too much for them? Did someone nearby spray chemicals? Was there some form of infection or spore?  The only obvious answer to our loss that I could find was the ominous presence of varroa mites in the hive.

As we started out in this hobby, and after significant study, I opted to keep bees in a top bar hive - specifically because it was believed the bees were more likely able to exclude varroa in the building of their own comb, and that the open screen bottom which is part of the hive's design means that mites which fall off of bees will fall completely outside the hive. My intent had been to give my colonies the best chance to live naturally with the least amount of interference necessary. My last hive inspection of the small, remaining colony still in short-term residence showed a significant population of varroa mites - which I had not seen at all in our first year on the Mainland in our thorough (every bar out and examined) once or twice-monthly inspections.

The varroa mite is considered one of the biggest dangers to honey bee populations, and its presence in a hive can result in the transmission of disease. Deformed Wing Virus is one of the major concerns for infection, causing wing and abdomen malformation, pupa death, and lifespans of less than 48 hours for those bees affected. Over the summer, I viewed less than a dozen bees with malformed wings, which may even have been a result of the virus being carried by foraging bees returning to the hive. Now, in the remaining comb, I can see the remains of several bees that never completed their emergence, likely indicating the varroa mite population had outnumbered the brood being laid to the point of killing their hosts.

The winter bottom board - taken off to examine the debris which fell through the bottom screen in the time it took for the bees to disappear.  The concentration is below where the brood chamber was located when we prepped the hive for winter.

Up close - the shiny brown ovals are dead mites that have fallen to the bottom of the hive.

You can see the varroa mite latched onto the worker bee in the middle of this picture.

I don't know if the presence of mites in the hive is the cause of our loss, or the result of an otherwise already-weakened colony.  The prior owner of the property was a commercial beekeeper for many years, so that may have contributed to a high mite population in the area. When we arrived on the property, I noted populations of several types of bumble bees and wasps, which traditionally are not affected by the varroa (whose lifecycle is unfortunately so well-synchronized with honey bee brood development). Apparently though, varroa are quite happy to hitch a ride on these local insects and can therefore move about the landscape to areas where they can hope to find a foraging honey bee. 

It Warms You Twice?

The saying goes that heating with wood warms you twice - once when you chop it, and again when you burn it to warm your home.  I might argue that it has been warming us even more than that - say, again when you move it and then when you stack it - I think that makes for 4 warmings at least.

Our questionable firewood odyssey is hopefully over for the year. Perhaps I will regret that statement as we carefully ration the last logs in March or April, or if we finally have to give in and turn on the baseboard heaters when getting up every 3 hours in the night to load the stove no longer seems romantic to me.  We had a final visit from our firewood contact, and politely but firmly told him we would not be needing any more of his services. (Especially easy after we had to cancel plans for the evening because he didn't show up during the day as he had promised.) And no, we would not need him for building a fence. Or identifying mushrooms on our property. Or building us a proper woodshed. Seriously, if you can't show up on time to make a wood delivery, or deliver the amount of wood you've promised, why would you think I would want to hire you for anything else?  Ahem. Anyway.....

Our final load dropped on Friday, and we have had to put a small amount of that apart for immediate and careful burning due to a termite infestation. We took care to examine the wood, and have chucked the questionable pieces to one side to avoid introducing the bugs to our piles or to the nice warm environment of the house. Termite larva is not pretty.

Hauling 1 or 2 loads into the house from the pile each day was staring to become a bit time consuming, not to mention messy. Then, I remembered the brackets we had brought with us from our last home. They hadn't served us properly there, but something in my packrat brain had told me to keep them.

So, with the purchase of a few 2x4s, a few cuts, and a little shove to the outdoor furniture, we found space at the back door, under cover of the roof, and with room for airflow between the house and a nice 5-foot high pile of wood.

Then I hauled a full wheelbarrow load of wood from the pile beside the driveway, around the house, and transferred it back and forth up the stairs while Adrian continued to split the larger pieces...

And Adrian came up with a timely suggestion... 

Two trips with the truck, and both of us managing the transfer meant having a ready supply of wood at the back door for those days when we don't have time to go out to the main pile.

Here's to feeling warm and cozy, and itchy from splinters...and maybe slightly burnt (we're still learning!)

Disappointments

Well, the saying goes that bad things happen in threes, and we've had a few whoppers here in the past few days.

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.