Chapter Two: Too Much a Dreamer?
With such a connection to nature some might say it was inevitable I’d end up working with it in some way. It didn’t feel that way, most of my adult life had been quite different to my childhood- focused on a career, in an office. Five days a week inside a box with air conditioning and sometimes no windows close by; evenings and weekends making a home, seeing friends and family and watching films and TV. The occasional jog or walk in the countryside perhaps.
I believe I must have been about eight years old when my dad and I had a chat. I don’t recall what led to this discussion, but I do remember that we were sat in the car somewhere near the river (my dad loves the water so we were often to driven to the water’s edge to look at the boats or taken out on the boat to sail down the river). “Remember that you can be whatever you want to be in life, if you want to be the Prime Minister you can, just like Mrs Thatcher” it was the 1980’s of course… “you can be whoever you choose and do whatever you want, as long as you work hard”. Perhaps this talk had been prompted because I wasn’t doing well at school or had been caught daydreaming again – something that was a particularly regular occurrence – but that talk has stuck with me my entire life. However…. I never quite found the thing that I wanted to do.
When I was in my first year of secondary school our English teacher tasked the class with a piece of creative writing about our plans and ambitions for the future and our careers. I wrote about wanting to be a farmer, that I really wanted to work with animals but was concerned about having to take them to slaughter so probably would have to be an arable farmer. I wanted to have several houses on the land so that my mum and dad could live close by. I drew a picture of the farmhouse (Georgian in design) with flowers around the front door and a few animals in the yard. The class laughed at me; teacher included. I didn’t fully understand why and I can only surmise now that it was because my writing was a dream, an ideal and something that didn’t fit the blonde, shy GIRL that stood at the front of the room.
A year or so later I reached the finals of the school public speaking competition with a talk on different breeds of pig, something which had become a bit of a passion with knowledge of all the different breeds and a bedroom covered in pig themed paraphernalia. Speaking in front of a classroom was scary but to stand up in front of the school was a massive achievement for an incredibly shy, introverted teen. My talk was not well received by my peers with bullying ensuing after the presentation and plenty of name calling… you can guess at the cleverly put together puns, yep, Miss Piggy was a favourite!
Looking back it was clear I should have found my way into some sort of career based around the outdoors and animals but the negativity surrounding those ideals led me down a (few) different paths and on a few adventures first.
Initially it was off to the USA as an au-pair at the age of 18, where I lived mostly in the Illinois suburbs caring for a 5 and 7 year old whilst also attending a college night school studying business. Then after returning home and a spell working in a supermarket, I attended a full time stage school in London but soon discovered my insecurities were too much so headed back to retail and then to an office job as a secretary, working my way up to a personal assistant, before eventually moving into marketing and then finding food and drink brand marketing where I had a very successful career for over a decade, However, none of it ever quite felt right, all of it was an effort and there were always too many people and not enough willingness to have animals in the office – I did manage to get agreement to some fish once but that was the limit!
I met my husband, Mark, when I was 20 so he’s seen me start and finish many a different job and have many a different idea. We’d been together almost 2 years when I acquired two kittens, we moved in together not long after that and he had no choice but to welcome them. As I write this in 2024 this is our 26th year together and in that time we’ve had 7 cats and a few years ago I convinced him we should get a dog…. we now have two dogs….. and six chickens!
When Mark and I bought our first home in a small North Essex village, the slim 2 up-2 down terraced house had a little garden which I filled with plants and trees and more plants in pots, an insect hotel, a bird house and a bird feeder. I don’t recall there being a conscious decision to build the garden for nature to enjoy; I created a garden that I’d been taught too, one that instinctually was right. The house was a small 1890’s house with a little strip of a back garden, big enough for some friends to enjoy a bbq in or for a picnic on a sunny day. We often saw birds and hedgehogs but living in a town came with its limitations.
After 9 years of living in our little terrace we had outgrown it and looked to find something with a little more space, little did we know this would be the first step towards a brand-new career!
The house we found was located at the end of a lane with open fields to the front and back, on our first viewing we stood in the garden (which was over 100ft long) and I turned to Mark with tears in my eyes and proclaimed “I want it”! After spending my adult years to this point in a flat and a house that came with neighbours virtually living with you and views of walls, other people’s homes and the road, being back in the countryside with space was heaven.
We moved in at the end of August 2015 and I immediately set to; digging up the lawn and creating flower beds, buying more insect houses, bird boxes, butterfly houses, bird feeders, designating areas to be neat and areas to be left undisturbed. Lavender, Salvia and Comfrey are particular favourites of mine and of the bugs so we added plenty of that to the garden. I also like Buddlea, even if it does have a bad rep’, it really does encourage the butterflies into the garden. We added a few roses of course, mostly David Austin roses that have a heady scent that reminds me of family. The colour of the garden was punctuated by purples, maroons and pinks so of course we added the alien-like Alliums which pop up like a firework amongst the green foliage of their next door neighbours, foxgloves which are perfect for bumblebees and some areas were left to wild with buttercups and daisies taking centre stage.
The joy of living in the countryside again and the abundance of nature was accompanied with a sense of grounding and occasional calm, my love of the natural world returning I started to consider keeping bees.
My initial inkling of beekeeping came when I read a novel – The Beekeeper’s Daughter by Santa Montefiore, if you haven’t read it, I highly recommend you do. Swept away by the notion that you can convene with bees and have an understanding with them was intriguing and my romantic nature wanted a part of that! I haven’t read it since that first time, having handed it to a friend with a hearty recommendation I’ve not got round to getting hold of another copy. I wonder if it would have such an impact now that I understand what it’s really like to keep bees? After reading this book Mum and I visited Gardeners World Live, and on the same day as meeting Monty Don I also visited the beekeeping stand and got to ask how I should get started or explore the subject further. Leaflets in hand I headed home to research.
It wasn’t long before a serendipitous moment occurred whilst Mark and I were stood in our bathroom chatting about changes we wanted to make. Without warning a black cloud swept past the window and down our garden, settling in our neighbour’s orchard. There was frantic discussion about what it could be agreeing it was a swarm of bees; all bathroom conversation halted I spent the rest of the day in the garden listening and watching for further activity, it wasn’t long until I heard an older gentleman proclaiming it was indeed a swarm of bees and that he could take them away.
I wish I had a picture of this moment, me crouched behind a hedge in the garden listening to broken conversation and trying to imagine what was happening with the bees behind the bush. My innate shyness stopped me from gathering up the courage to pop my head round and ask what was going on. It’s possible that I’m became friends with that beekeeper but as he was just a voice behind a hedge I may never know!
Fast forward 3 months and I’m sat in a room at Cressing Temple Barns, a medieval site that was given to the Knights Templar in 1137 and which fortunately was only 15 minutes from my home. I had taken the leap and signed up to a workshop on beekeeping hosted by a lovely lady called Jan who was soon to be another key person of inspiration and encouragement in my life.
There were about 8 of us on the course which lasted all day with most of it inside viewing a presentation and videos, with the promise of meeting the bees at the end of the day if the weather held out. We started with a quiz – pictures of different types of bees and a wasp thrown in for good measure, with the task of identifying them… What!? … there are different types of bees! Okay, it wasn’t so astounding that there was more than one type as I knew there were bumblebees and solitary bees, the revelation came that only one species of bee makes the honey that we eat, and it looked a solitary bee, not a bumblebee. I’m not sure how this had eluded me but this moment of embarrassment has since been surpassed as I realised I’m not the only naïve person when it comes to our bees.
Before we ventured outside to see the honey bees we were given the opportunity to taste different types of honey. I wasn’t a big fan of honey, only using it as an added ingredient in recipes or for a sore throat when I was struck down with a cold. Buying it as runny golden syrup in a squirty plastic bottle, I much preferred maple or golden syrup on my pancakes or porridge! Making my way through the miniature jars of honey I was surprised at how different they all tasted. We’d learned that the bees foraged on different flowers but now tasting how that changed the flavour profile and viscosity of the honey was wonderful. We also tasted honey mixed with Whisky; now that would be great in a hot toddy! I bought a jar of honey from Jan before we left and haven’t looked back.
My first experience standing at an open beehive was very special and also a blur! Jan took us out to her truck which was filled with bee suits (the protective ones not costumes to make us look like bees, now that would have been a sight!), we’d been asked to bring some gloves and wellies too. Kitted out we made our way across the field toward the hives, as I walked with the hives slowly coming into view my nerves increased and my imagination went wild- I changed from regular human in a funny suit to a CSI agent approaching a crime scene, to Astronaut taking first steps on a new planet, finally landing on a Ghostbuster!! I mean, come on, protective they may be but flattering they are not! I’ve since had the opportunity to talk at some primary schools and I always take along my suit to wear and a hat with veil for the kids to try on, all I can say is I’m not the only one that comes up with silly ideas for how the outfit could be used.
A photographer from the local paper documented this moment so I am one of the lucky few to have a picture of me on my first day as a beekeeper (ish). I do look funny but I treasure the image that was the start of my exciting adventure.
We arrived at the apiary which was part of the Cressing Temple Barns site. The hives managed by volunteers and previously having been within the Tudor Walled Garden were located in the field near the carpark as had terrorised a few paying customers and made themselves unwelcome. There were two hives set up and Jan opened the first, demonstrating and identifying things we’d been through that morning. I remember being nervous but also enjoying a strange sense of calm, apart from that though it was all a bit of a blur.
My next bee encounter came the following month where I was welcomed into the eccentric world of beekeeping by my local beekeeping group. Jan had mentioned that if we wanted to learn more we could attend the next meeting for free to see if we liked it. During the summer months our group – the Braintree Beekeepers – hold outside, apiary meetings at a different member’s apiary each month from April through to September. It’s a great idea as each set up is different, whether it’s the hives used, the bee temperament, issues being experienced, number of hives etc. Throughout the season it’s a great way to catch up once a month, ask questions, support and encourage one another and have a nose around which climaxes with tea and cake in the sunshine. The September meeting was held in a field where we got to say good afternoon to some sheep before encountering the hives. I had encouraged my husband to go with me, the thought of turning up alone was particularly scary but I also wanted him to see what being around a hive was like as I thought I might need his help from time to time and needed him onboard!
You know when you meet people sometimes and there’s an immediate feeling of either comfort or familiarity? This is what I felt like on meeting the Braintree Beekeepers. Jan was there and seemed very pleased to see us, I introduced her to Mark and we were in turn introduced to Antony who rushed us over to his car and kitted us out with suits. There was a gentle buzz (excuse the pun) in the air as all of the beekeepers parked up, suited up and gathered together for the announcements and instruction. We were asked to split into smaller groups, who would each be led by one of the more experienced beekeepers, and to make our way to the hives for the inspections.
Our group lead was ‘Johnny Bee’, who I later discovered was a commercial beekeeper- who knew you could be a professional beekeeper!
The beehive is a funny thing. Every beekeeper you talk to will have a preferred style of hive and reasons for and against theirs and others. When you think of a beehive you may initially think of a white, tallish stack of tapered wood panels, topped with a pointy roof and sat on four legs with grass growing underneath. The sort you see in cottage gardens and on birthday cards. That’s a WBC hive, a very traditional style of English beehive. Then there are variations on that theme, with boxes stacked on boxes and inside them, neat rectangular frames of wax and bees. Dependant on where you are in the world you would know these as Commercial, Dadant, Langstroth, National… each box set up has a slightly different set of dimensions and has been tweaked (usually by its namesake) in an attempt to make the beekeeping easier or the bees happier (of both!). At this apiary (aka location of beehives), the bees were housed in square boxes which were Commercial hives, brown and red boxes, four to a pallet lifting them off the ground.
Johnny Bee dismantled the hive with ease and set about pulling frames from the hive and observing the activity on each, taking the group through what he could see. To my surprise I was invited to remove a frame or two and talk through what I could see. What now is a very natural behaviour and one carried out hundreds and thousands of times each season, then was very alien. I was given a metal tool, a couple of inches wide and maybe 8 inches long and bent at one end; like a mini, light-weight crowbar in my mind! I was told to hold it in my dominant hand and to then use it as a lever to move the next two frames apart, with a gentle crack the frames became unstuck from one another and I was then asked to lift the frame out of the hive, keeping it as even as possible as I lifted it, trying not to knock it on the hive or other frames. Once above the hive I was able to witness the comb and the bees up close. I can’t remember if I took a breath at any point! The other beekeepers asked questions of me and helped me to understand what I was looking at, me thinking at one point a worker bee with a varroa mite attached to her was a queen and instead of being laughed at I was commended on my excellent eyesight for seeing the mite. What a different world to that of abuse and laughter in my school days.
I was able to keep up enough courage to look through 2 frames before placing them back down and moving back to observe – not before one of the workers decided she’d had enough of me first and stung me on my finger, ouch! After a check from Johnny Bee that I could still breathe ok and didn’t feel faint we all continued.
Standing back from hives Mark pulled me to one side and pointed out the bees around us. We stood at the edge of the field, hives running along next to us, thirty people dressed uniquely in unusual attire with netted hats, sheep at the other side of the field, us in an enormous cloud of buzzing activity. In every direction there were bees, disturbed from their work within the hive, circling us as well as heading out to find food. It was like nothing either of us had ever experienced, it was exhilarating and inspiring.
I learnt so much on that one afternoon, not just about the bees but about myself too. I learnt I was a weakling as couldn’t lift a heavy box of honey! I learnt that wasps could take over a weak hive and joined by their friends the wax moth leave it decimated, and I learnt that clearly beekeepers were a bit of an eccentric bunch but they were all very nice with it and I felt like I’d found home.
