Free From A to Bee by James Dearsley

too far from the truth, but he was relieved to hear that I had done a course and was obviously serious about it all. I suppose if a local beekeeper is inexperienced or doesn't tend his or her bees well it affects everyone locally so I can understand his reaction. After the initial awkwardness and inquisition, it was quite enlightening to speak to a beekeeper that had thirty hives, and it once again makes it all feel a little bit more real. He invited me to see his hives when he checks them in April – how exciting.

    FEBRUARY 21

    I have become used to sitting in front of a roaring fire, drinking either red wine or home-made cider, to write my diary. Tonight, however, it is being rudely interrupted by an airport lounge in Newcastle. Corporate life has taken me away up north where it is very very cold.
    Â Â Having been stuck here for a couple of hours now, this post is being written while I wait in a lovely, colourful, inspiring departure lounge, not a drop of alcohol in sight, full of happy people filled with smiles from ear to ear – can you tell the hint of sarcasm here? We have just been told by a rather large man in a fluorescent jacket that they 'are currently assessing the runway to see if it is safe to fly due to the snowy conditions'! Everyone has their heads stuck firmly into books or devices which look suspiciously like iPhones (wish I had one), or devices that wish they were iPhones.
    Â Â Due to my current situation, I thought I would just reflect on something that happened yesterday and today.
    Â Â (Just been told we can board – hurray!!)
    Â Â Yesterday was the day to finish the final 10 per cent of the willow haircut (or massacre). Bob, the man mountain, joined me in the afternoon and we got on with the job at hand. My God, I had forgotten how hard it is to keep on bending over and picking up willow.
    Â Â (OK, well, I have boarded, am sitting on a seat which, being 6 foot 5 inches, means my knees are by my ears and the computer is somewhere under my nose, and have just been told that with the snow coming down we may not be able to fly… Ho hum.)
    Â Â Anyway, so the man mountain and I finished the job of cutting the willow. I have to say it is lovely to end up with some fantastic willow poles which I shall make use of this year. But it was also a reminder that the gardening year hasn't really started yet. This is where it all started to go wrong and I found it quite tough. I haven't had time to tidy anything up; last year's geraniums are still looking dead in their pots – I must remember to bring them in next year to overwinter; the grass is all a little bit uneven, wanting a cut and needing to be rolled flat once more. I can't tell you how sad it is to walk on waterlogged grass.
    Â Â Then, while I was in Gatwick Airport this cold, damp, typical February morning milling around WH Smith, I looked in the garden magazine section and in amongst them all was the friendly face of Alan Titchmarsh advertising an exclusive magazine, The Gardener's Year . I had a quick thumb through it, looking at some lovely pictures and my good mood was restored. They had some appealing photos of what gardens will be looking like in just a month or so, plus step-by-step plans to reassure you that the waterlogged grass, messy-looking pots and weed-filled beds are all normal, and instructions for what you should do about them. I felt the day had taken an abrupt turn for the better, knowing that it wouldn't be too long until the daffodils started to open, and after them the tulips, and after them God only knows.
    Â Â If spring is coming, it must mean the bees will be too. It's getting closer – but I must now work out where to get my bees from.

    FEBRUARY 22

    I feel a little strange: I have just ordered my first hive. It feels a little bit unreal, perhaps because it was so simple. I had a good look around and felt from the information and pictures supplied by Nicholas at