Extracting in the comfort of the Dower House...

One of the problems of a cold house is that honey doesn’t flow once summer is over. As extraction time is generally in the autumn it means I either have to be quick or leave the supers on the hive until spring. This year I was late taking the supers off and ended up with them in the house. A problem with my manual extractor meant it was taking half an hour to extract four frames and even then a fair bit of honey was still in the cells. It seems the basket needs to be lifted slightly so the cogs connect but until I can get it taken apart and checked, I have had to stop extracting.

Record breaking cold weather in December didn’t help either, so the honey has sat in the front room since it came off the hive. Thankfully, as a member of Manchester & District Beekeepers Association I have access to a pretty good set of equipment in a good-sized, purpose-built room in Heaton Park. They have everything there: a warming room, uncapping tank, electric extractor, various filters, and big sinks. So last week we popped down and left our four remaining supers in the warming room so when we went back this week they’d be easier to extract.

Two hours sounds like plenty of time but when you have to cut the cappings off each frame, a total of twenty, then load the extractor, spin for ten minutes, empty and repeat, then time disappears. Cleaning everything afterwards took over an hour so we were over time by the time we’d finished. But it was worth the sweating to get it all done. Due to a memory lapse, where I didn’t record how much was extracted from the first super of the year, the official amount of honey we recorded from last year is probably a few pounds lower than the actual amount, but at 170lbs (that’s 78kgs in new money) I think that’s not a bad season’s harvest for only two hives.

I am glad now I bought a gross and a half of jars, so at least we have somewhere to put it. All I have to do now is jar it up before it sets, otherwise we’ll be eating it out of a bucket.

Brotformen...

For some time now I have been baking my own bread, getting the fresh (free) supermarket yeast and doing a batch of half a dozen loaves. They don’t always come out as I had planned but the experience is good and the more I do it, the more I am producing similar loaves. But the perfect loaf is still a way off I think.

While we were down in Dorset we visited the Town Mill Bakery in Lyme Regis and I spoke to one of the people working there about bread. I can get the mix of flour right, but the seedy taste and chewy crust is still beyond me, and I wondered if they had any tips. She said they used proving baskets to give the loaf the shape, so for Christmas Agnieszka got me a couple to play with. They are made of cane and quite hard, and you line them with flour and allow the bread to rise in them before flopping it out onto a tray and baking it like that. My wife always manages to get me something really useful and wanted for my Christmas box, proof if any were needed that she’s the right one for me.

As for the bread, well it didn’t turn out too bad the first time. The crust could have been a little thicker, but our oven only goes up to 220 degrees, any more and the cupboards would go on fire. So I will keep on practicing and altering the flour mix, adding different seeds (this one is with linseeds which gives it a lovely nutty flavour), baking for longer, experimenting, learning.

Early beans look unlikely...

With all the snow and ice it hasn’t been possible to go to the plot for several weeks. The bees are usually alright over winter, so not too much to worry about but I do like to go and check everything is ok. So on Sunday, on the way to Hebden Bridge, we popped in to see if all was fine.

The bees were very quiet, a few dead ones by the entrance, but that wasn’t surprising as it has turned chilly again and they keep inside when it’s like that. The big disaster, though, is the broad beans that were sown in October, ready for an early spring harvest. They were the right variety, but it seems the snow has burnt them beyond saving as the stems were black up to where the snow had been, the top leaves looking sad and green against the brown of the soil.

Everything else seems to be doing ok, the onions and garlic spritting and starting to grow, which is encouraging. The Savoy cabbages are fine, but the kohl rabi have flopped in the cold and will probably be dug in to boost the soil. The rye and clover is patchy but still alive and should put a spurt on when it warms up, more roughage for the soil.

Until it warms up there’s very little to do, so it’s back inside to peruse the seed catalogues and make some choices for the year ahead.

All is quiet on New Year's Day...

Well, maybe for the rest of the street it is, but not here. While everyone else was sleeping off a hangover, I was out drilling, sawing, cementing, bolting and nailing together my first shed. Made from remnants of the chicken run, some Freecycle cladding and some timber scrounged from my dad, and constructed over two days, all it needs now is a narrow door and then I can transfer the pile of bee boxes and plastic crates that have been cluttering up the front room. Won't somebody other than me be pleased?