Peaks and tarts

I’m a relative newcomer to the world of e-bay. I don’t understand how people can spend hours and hours on the site looking for things. I agree that if you want something specific, then it’s a good way to start, but just trawling what there is for the sake of it… no thanks. I'm reminded of the poem about the tinker's wife, by Patrick Kavanagh: 'I saw her on the dunghill debris / Looking for things.'

I have, however, been watching it avidly over the last few weeks in the hope of picking up some bargains for a second, or even a third, hive. This has meant trying to gauge how good a piece of kit is and then decide how much I am prepared to pay for it, all from – often blurred – photographs. The first couple of bits I bid on went for way over what I was prepared to pay, so I lost them. The same thing happened on a full hive I was bidding on, that went for quite a lot too. I think one problem is that there isn’t that much available and when it appears, a lot of people – and most with more disposable income than me – are after it.

Still, I did finally bid on two hives and upped my bid in the last five minutes to get the lot. I was happy with the price and it meant I would have at least one extra hive of decent quality (I hoped) with a few spare bits too. As the following day was Good Friday and I was off, we decided to jump in the car to collect them and make a day of it. Unfortunately, the weather was still cold and very windy so the plan of a nice walk on the hills was scuppered.

The hives were down in Birchover, not far from Matlock. We allowed two hours for the journey and made it with a minute to spare. We were not helped by the slowly snaking line of traffic along the A6 through Stockport, Bramhall, New Mills and along, nor by the closure of the road after Buxton, which led to a detour and a heated discussion about maps and their reading. But we got there in one piece, eventually. Birchover is a small village with two pubs and a shop. A few stone-built houses lined the narrow, car-filled, main street. The guy I bought the hives from was only young and had changed type of hive because the new ones have a bigger brood body and this helps to over-winter bees, giving them more room to build up in the summer. This meant he was selling his old hives, which he had bought from someone else, and I was to benefit.

The two hives look ok, but do need a good clean

My two hives looked ok on first appearances. Slightly tatty, but serviceable. It’s only since I got them home that I’ve discovered the roof of one and a super have damp and rotted parts to them, but even so I still have enough to build a complete hive as a second, back-up one, plus I should be able to use what’s left as an ‘emergency’ hive. For swarms or something similar. I’m now spending my evenings sanding and cleaning, in readiness for scorching and treating with wood preservative before painting. I think they’ll be ok after that for a few years at least.

The new hive, assembled and waiting for bees

After this, with the car full, we decided to head into Bakewell and have a look around. It was very busy but not as busy as it could have been, had the weather been better. We went to a ‘craft fair’ and were talked into a bar of soap which the woman said could be used as air freshener as the aroma was so pungent. This is nonsense. It doesn’t smell unless you stick it almost up a nostril and I’m glad we didn’t listen to her claims about the other crappy products she had on sale. We dodged into the old scout hut to avoid some hail, and the remainder of our trip to Bakewell was spent popping into shops to get out of the rain. Not something we normally do, but nice to do now and again.

This week, the MEN reported that at least half a dozen people have had to be rescued off Kinder Scout because they lost their way, going up without maps or good boots. Maybe next time we venture out to the Peak District it’ll be fit for walking. For now we finished off in traditional style. Before leaving, to plod back up the A6, we bought a Bakewell pudding. Half got eaten in the car, half when we got back. Very tasty.