Grumpy Queens

I confess it is not I who am learning about beekeeping - or only indirectly. L has joined the local 'Environment Group', which as well as organising litter picks around the village, looks after the lovely old graveyard of the local Baptist Chapel, now deconsecrated, which is used for music events, and whose Sunday school is home to several artists' studios and Thingamujig Theatre. In an area beyond the gravestones, they are planning a pond, and a beehive. L threw herself into things, as she does, and undertook to apply to the Co-operative Bank for a grant to fund said beehive, and successfully landed around £400. On Saturday she went on a morning's course at the Community Centre, given by the chair of the group, who is attending an ongoing training in nearby Halifax. She is still not sure if she will become a 'bee handler', but there are other ways to get involved, she tells me. Potting up and selling honey, for instance.

I expect some of the things she told me about bees are well-known, but I was in awe. A few examples. The drones, the males, have only one function - to mate with the queen (apparently one member of the course - male - had many jokey remarks to make on this topic...) The females, the workers, do all the work. The queen, once she has mated with a number of drones, lays thousands of eggs a day. Bees communicate using pheromones, and the 'waggle dance', informing each other of the whereabouts of food sources. There is just one spot in each area, where mating takes place, to which queens and drones gravitate. In the book on the table it says

GRUMPY QUEENS
If you have a grumpy queen you will have an aggressive colony. Replacing your old queen with a young one from a docile strain will change the personality of your hive within hours.

The sophistication of bee society prompted L to remark that perhaps they should be keeping us.