Clover Cottage Bee Farm

Clover Cottage Bee Farm Just an old retired dude selling HONEY BEES and LOCAL HONEY.

05/26/2026

Anybody ever tried this?

We’re at the Savannah Farmers Mkt today, Saturday the 23rd. It’s cloudy but it’s dry under the pavilion. Come visit with...
05/23/2026

We’re at the Savannah Farmers Mkt today,
Saturday the 23rd. It’s cloudy but it’s dry under the pavilion. Come visit with some great local vendors and take home some goodies.

05/20/2026
I’ve been peeking in my hives and I THINK I MIGHT be able to have honey available at the market on 05/09/26. Fingers cro...
04/28/2026

I’ve been peeking in my hives and I THINK I MIGHT be able to have honey available at the market on 05/09/26. Fingers crossed. I’m just as ready as y’all are for some good, raw, local honey. I can’t wait to see everyone again!!!

03/28/2026

The Beekeeper of the Texas Hill Country
The German Immigrant Widow Who Kept 200 Hives and Never Lost Her Sweetness
On a warm April morning in 1936, sixty-three-year-old Mathilde Bremer walked through her orchard outside Fredericksburg, Texas, wearing no gloves and no veil — she had stopped wearing them fifteen years earlier when she decided that the bees had accepted her completely and that protective gear was an insult to a relationship built on mutual trust — moving between 200 wooden hive boxes arranged in long rows beneath the peach and plum trees, listening to the sound of each hive the way a doctor listens to a heartbeat.
She had been keeping bees since 1895, when her husband Werner had bought their first two hives from an old German beekeeper in Fredericksburg who was retiring and had spent forty years establishing what he called the best bee yard in the Hill Country, which he sold to Werner for $12 and three days of fence repair. Werner had kept those two hives for eight years, expanding to twelve, learning the work with the methodical patience that he brought to everything. When Werner died of a heart attack in 1918, leaving Mathilde with the farm, three grown children, and 47 hives, she had taken over the bees with the same methodical patience and expanded them to 200.
The Texas Hill Country was extraordinary bee country — a landscape of wildflowers and wild herbs that the German immigrants who had settled it in the 1840s had found reminiscent of their Rhine valley home and that produced honey with a complexity of flavor that reflected every bloom in sequence through the season. Mathilde's spring honey tasted of mountain laurel and wild plum. Her summer honey carried the particular sweetness of white brush and huajillo. Her fall honey was dark and strong from the late-blooming wildflowers that came after the August heat broke.
She sold her honey at the Fredericksburg Saturday market, where she had occupied the same spot under the same oak tree for thirty-one years, her honey jars arranged by season and color from pale gold to deep amber, her scale accurate to the quarter ounce, her prices consistent since 1920 because she saw no reason to charge more for what the bees made freely and generously.
She was known in Fredericksburg as the woman you went to when something was wrong that you didn't know how to name. This reputation had developed slowly and was not something Mathilde had sought. It arose from the particular combination of her beekeeping practice — standing quietly among the hives, reading them, responding to what they needed — and her temperament, which was patient and non-judgmental and capable of the specific listening that occurs when a person is genuinely interested in what you have to say without any agenda about what you should say next.
People sat with her at the market and talked. Farmers worried about their land. Young women worried about marriages. Men who had come back from the first war with something wrong that they couldn't explain sat at her market table with their hands around a jar of honey they weren't going to buy and talked for an hour and left lighter than they had arrived.
She didn't give advice. She asked questions and listened to the answers and occasionally said something very simple that was, somehow, exactly what was needed. Her pastor at Zion Lutheran Church said once that Mathilde Bremer had done more pastoral work at her Saturday market table than he had done from the pulpit in twenty years, and he was not entirely joking.
In 1936 the Texas Hill Country was in the grip of the same drought that was turning Oklahoma and Kansas to dust. The wildflowers bloomed thinner and the nectar flows were weak and Mathilde's honey yield was half what it had been in the good years. She reduced her market prices by thirty percent — because her customers were struggling the same as she was and because honey at a price that struggling people couldn't pay was honey that didn't do what honey was for.
That summer a young family from Oklahoma arrived in Fredericksburg with everything they owned in a Ford truck — drought refugees, Dust Bowl escapees, the husband looking for farm work, the wife five months pregnant, two small children in the truck bed among the furniture. They stopped at Mathilde's market table because the wife had seen the honey and it reminded her of something from her childhood.
Mathilde gave them a jar of honey. She also told the husband about a farm three miles outside Fredericksburg that she knew was looking for workers. She gave the wife the name of the midwife in town. She gave the children each a small piece of honeycomb and watched their faces change when the sweetness hit.
The family stayed in Fredericksburg. The father found work. The baby was born that October — a girl, healthy, delivered by the midwife Mathilde had recommended. They named her Mathilde.
The original Mathilde died in 1951 at 78, in the farmhouse she and Werner had built in 1893, surrounded by her children and grandchildren and the sound — just barely audible through the open April window — of 200 hives in full spring production, the bees beginning their day in the orchard with the same purposeful collective hum they had brought to every morning of her adult life.
Her daughter kept the bees. Her granddaughter keeps them now. The hives are still under the peach and plum trees. The honey still goes to the Fredericksburg Saturday market.
The woman who was named after Mathilde is 85 years old and lives in San Antonio and comes to Fredericksburg every spring to buy a jar of the Hill Country honey that her parents were given for free when they had nothing, which has tasted, every spring of her life, exactly like the specific moment when things turned from impossible to possible.

"She understood that sweetness is not a luxury. She understood it is the thing that reminds people they are alive and that life has something to offer. She kept 200 hives of it and gave it away freely and the whole county was better for it." — Pastor Heinrich Schumann, Zion Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg Texas, eulogy 1951

03/15/2026

March Beekeeping with Mac Blount at Clover Cottage Bee Farm

I know, I know — it’s already the middle of March and I’m late getting this post out. I’ve got a whole list of excuses, none of which are interesting, so let’s skip all that and get to the bees.
Everything here is simply my opinion based on my experience in Tennessee. Your bees, your climate, and your management style may be different, so always do your own research and trust what you see in your own hives. And if you’ve got thoughts or tips of your own, drop them in the comments — I love hearing what other beekeepers are seeing.

Why March Matters
March is what I call the “starving month.” Winter stores are running low, natural forage is still limited, and just as the first pollen and nectar start coming in, the queen ramps up her laying. Suddenly the colony has a lot of hungry mouths to feed. One cold or rainy week can push a hive into starvation.
One of the questions I get most often is:
“Do I need to feed my bees?”
My answer is always the same:
“I don’t know — have you looked?”
Most of the time, the answer is no. So let’s fix that. Do your research, inspect, decide and act.

Your First Light Inspection of the Year
Pick a day above 60°F with light wind and do a quick, gentle inspection. You’re not tearing the hive apart — just gathering information.
Here’s what you’re looking for:
• Are they queen‑right? You don’t have to find her; brood or eggs are enough.
• How much brood is there?
• Any drone brood or drones walking around?
• Do they have enough food to get through the next two weeks?
• How many frames are covered with bees? Too much space? Not enough?
Close the hive and make a plan based on what you saw.

What Your Findings Mean
Queen Status
• If you see no brood and only a small cluster, wait a week and check again.
• Still no brood? Decide whether to:
• introduce a queen,
• let them raise one,
• or combine with a stronger hive if the population is too low.
Brood Levels
• If all your hives have similar brood patterns, great.
• If one hive is behind but the brood looks healthy, you can boost it later by adding a frame of capped brood from a stronger hive.
• If a hive has more brood than average, consider donating a frame to a weaker colony.

Drone Brood Tells a Story
Drone brood is a great indicator of colony strength and timing:
• Lots of drone brood → strong hive, plenty of resources, likely planning to swarm.
• Less drone brood than other hives → could mean stress or food shortage.
• Purple‑eyed drone brood → drones will emerge soon, which means you’re getting close to the window for splits or queen rearing.
For most beekeepers, it’s best to wait until drones are fully mature and flying before making splits.

Feeding in March
March weather is unpredictable, so when in doubt, err on the side of giving them food.
But feed smart:
• Use 1:1 sugar syrup for spring.
• Too much syrup can clog the brood nest and limit the queen.
• Internal feeders with reduced entrances work better than community feeders when only some hives need food.
• As for pollen patties:
In Tennessee, natural pollen is usually enough.
Save your money unless you’re grafting queens.

Should You Reverse Boxes?
If you run a two‑box brood chamber, the bottom box may be empty right now. Many books say to reverse the boxes in spring.
I don’t.
Here’s why: in nature, bees build from the top down. They store honey above and raise brood below. Through winter they move upward with the food, and in spring they naturally move the brood nest back down.
I prefer to let them follow their own rhythm.

Varroa in March
Some beekeepers treat in spring. I don’t use synthetic treatments, so I won’t tell you to use them or not — do your own research and decide what fits your philosophy.
Oxalic acid can be used now, but it only kills exposed mites, so it’s less effective than other times of year. It won’t eliminate mites, but it can slow population growth.

Wrapping Up
If you’ve made it this far, thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to read and follow along. If you’ve got questions, comments, or advice, drop them below and I’ll get back to you.

Happy beekeeping,
Mac B

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01/31/2026

February Beekeeping
with Mac Blount at Clover Cottage Bee Farm

I realize it’s COLD as we head into February, but there are still things beekeepers can do to help our girls survive and get ready for the 2026 spring and summer season. Like us here in Tennessee, they’ve had it rough the last week or so. Several people have asked whether the single digit temperatures and ice hurt the bees. The plain truth is—maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. As I’ve told folks, right now it’s a wait and see situation. Bees can handle cold weather IF the colony was large enough to generate heat, IF there wasn’t excessive moisture in the hive, and IF they stayed in contact with food. Unfortunately, beekeeping—like all agriculture—can be heartbreaking. You can do everything right and still lose bees. For now, keep your fingers crossed and stay optimistic for a good year.

This post is simply my opinion. If you have other suggestions for February beekeeping, feel free to share them in the comments. Also feel free to share this post with anyone you think might be interested.
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Varroa Treatments
As temperatures moderate during the month, oxalic acid v***r or sublimation can be applied. Ideally, treat three times at seven day intervals, but a single treatment is better than none. You should target temperatures around 40–45°F, with a loose cluster and all bees at home.

As for other chemical treatments, rely on your own research and experience, but I’d personally wait for more stable weather. You’ll never hear me condemn anyone for being treatment free or for using harsher chemicals. They’re your bees—be informed and do what you think is best.
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Inspections
We’ve had a lot of tree damage here in Tennessee, so visit your apiary as soon as possible to clear branches from the hives and the area in general. Repair or replace any damaged equipment promptly.
Straighten hives and replace lids as needed, but avoid opening the hive unless temperatures reach 50–60°F. Tennessee rarely stays cold for long, so on a sunny 50 degree day, stroll through your apiary and watch the entrances.
• Bees flying? Good sign.
• No activity? A quick peek inside may be necessary to confirm whether the colony is alive.
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Feeding
While checking entrances, lift the back of the hive to gauge remaining food. If you’re feeding dry sugar or fondant, take a quick look under the lid to see if they need more. I try to check mine once a month and replenish as needed.
In our area, Red Maples bloom near the end of February, and that’s when the queen begins ramping up her laying in anticipation of spring.
If—and only if—you plan to stimulate the queen for early buildup (for example, to make splits), you can begin feeding 1:1 sugar syrup. Remember the rule:
WHEN YOU START FEEDING, YOU MUST CONTINUE AS LONG AS THE BEES ARE TAKING IT.
Feeding stimulates brood production, and the expanding colony must have enough food. Otherwise, they can starve. Feeding bees is like riding a bicycle on a tightrope while juggling—there are rewards for a good performance and consequences for a bad one.
________________________________________
Remember, these thoughts are just my opinion based on my experiences and studies. You do you. Good luck with your bees, and have a great February.
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01/07/2026

January Beekeeping with
Mac Blount at Clover Cottage Bee Farm

Some beekeepers will say that there’s not much to do in beekeeping during the month of January. “It’s too cold to open the hives and it’s better to sit beside a warm fire, dream about beekeeping and just rest”, they might say. So is that true? Is there anything you need to do for your bees? In my opinion January is nothing like that and there’s plenty that you can be doing for your bees. If you’re a commercial or sideline beekeeper you probably have lots on your “to do” list already. If you’re a new or a hobby beekeeper with only a few hives you should never waste this time either. In this post I’m going to list some things that I think you should be doing and some things that you could do to help out your bees in 2026. I’m going to list the tasks in categories but not necessarily list them in order of importance. As always what I’m about to write is my opinion and certainly not the only way to do things. Please use the “comments” to add anything you want or to disagree with me. Feel free to share with others that might be interested.

Inspections
• Take a walk through your apiary and check for limbs that have fallen on your hives, blocked entrances, tops or boxes askew, and tall dead grass close to your hives that will burn your hives if your neighbor lets their trash fire get out of hand. While you’re walking through observe the entrances for activity (the bees should be flying some if the temps are around 50 or above) and if there are any piles of dead bees in front of a hive. Lift the back of each hive slightly and see how heavy it is. Make note of light hives or anything else you see that you’re not sure of so that you can check on it when the temperatures will allow an inside look.
• IF the temps are around 50 and the wind is not blowing strongly you can look into your questionable hives. When I say “look into your hive” I don’t mean pull frames out looking for a queen or brood. Simply lift the top to check to see if bees are present, if the hive smells right, and if they have food. If you’re using fondant, some other form of dry sugar or candy, see if that needs replenishing. If all is well close the hive and place a brick or something to keep the wind from blowing the lid off until the bees can reseal it with propolis.

Varroa Treatments
• If you use chemicals for varroa treatments, some commercial beekeepers will give a treatment in late January. That’s something you might want to research and decide if and when you want to do a “pre-spring” treatment. Oxalic acid v***rization can be done safely when the temps are around 50, but just remember the queen will have already started laying more as the month progresses and the OA is only going to be effective on exposed mites. It won’t hurt anything and MIGHT help some. As always, treatment is the beekeeper’s choice.

Feeding
• I’ve seen people on YouTube and FaceBook feeding syrup and pollen on warm days. I don’t recommend this at all except in certain situations. If your bees are starving feed them, but it’s better to put some form of sugar in the top of the hive. My reasoning is this. Liquid food and especially pollen will stimulate the queen to start laying more. This time of year the hive population is low and, if she starts laying a bigger pattern, and there are not enough bees to keep the brood warm you might get chill brood. If the brood isn’t killed by the cold then the population of the hive will get bigger during the time of the year when the food is limited. You might even get into a starving situation if you’re not watching the food levels in the hive closely. It only takes about 3 days to have a hive die from starvation. A week of no food and bad weather… let’s just say not a good outcome. The rule of thumb is, when you start liquid feeding in spring you have to keep feeding until they stop taking the syrup.

Planning and Equipment
• January is the month that you can sit by the fire some, but there are things that you can be doing while you warm your toes. Bee supply companies are generous with their catalogs, both paper and online. Take advantage, peruse their offerings and decide what you’re going to need this year, order it as soon as possible and get it assembled and ready for spring. Opening a hive in late march and finding it full of swarm cells isn’t the time to start looking for extra equipment to make a split or two. ALWAYS be ready before hand. The bees or gonna be ahead of you and aren’t going to wait on you.

Educate Yourself
• As I’ve heard people say, “Beekeeping is 50% science and 50% art”. The art part comes with experience, but the science part is something you can learn quickly. The old master beekeepers wrote books many, many years ago that are still pertinent today. Yes, science has come up some new things over the years and varroa mites are now a thang, but good basic knowledge of bees hasn’t changed. Read works by Doolittle, Brother Adam, Manley, Root and others. (They’re still available on Amazon) Then read some more modern books from authors like Dr. Seeley who wrote “Honeybee Democracy”. Heck, read “Beekeeping for Dummies”. I guarantee even experienced beekeepers will learn something from that pretty good book with the terrible name. Understand that THERE IS NO INSTRUCTION BOOK for beekeeping that will give you the end all information on how to keep bees. However, there’s lots of invaluable knowledge out there, just go find it and use it. Don’t just sit by the fire this January learn to be a better beekeeper. Thousands of little lives are depending on you!

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12/06/2025

Lessons from the Beehive
The Secret Immune System of Honey Bees 🐝🧬🛡️
Why a colony fights disease as ONE body — not 60,000 individuals.

Most animals fight infection with individual immunity — white blood cells, antibodies, fevers.

But honey bees?
They’re different.
They’ve evolved something scientists call:

🌐 SOCIAL IMMUNITY
A hive doesn’t just defend itself bee-by-bee…
It defends itself as a group, like one giant organism with a single immune system.

And the way they do it is wild:

🛡️ 1. Propolis: The Hive’s Antimicrobial Armor
Bees gather tree resins to make propolis — sticky, dark, antiseptic glue.

Inside the hive, propolis is:
• antibacterial
• antiviral
• antifungal
• anti-inflammatory

It lines cracks, coats walls, and reduces pathogens by up to 50–90%.
It’s the hive’s version of sanitizing a hospital.

❄️ 2. Fever Response (Yes… a colony can “run a fever”)
When brood is infected with chalkbrood or other pathogens, bees will:

🔥 cluster tightly
🔥 vibrate thoracic muscles
🔥 raise local temperature several degrees

They can literally cook pathogens without harming the brood.
It’s a collective fever — a behavior almost unheard-of in insects.

🧹 3. Hygienic Bees: The Hive’s Surgeons
Some workers have a genetic trait called hygienic behavior.

These bees:
• sniff out sick brood
• uncap the cells
• remove infected larvae
• drag them far from the hive

It’s the colony’s version of emergency surgery and infection control.

🧪 4. Antimicrobial Royal Jelly & Brood Food
The gland secretions fed to larvae contain powerful immune molecules:

• defensins (a small family of cationic peptides that play a crucial role in the immune system fighting bacteria, viruses and fungi)
• enzymes
• peptides
• antioxidants

These boost young bees’ immunity long before they ever leave the cell.

Royal jelly is so antimicrobial that lab cultures struggle to grow bacteria in it.

🦠 5. Social Distancing (Yes… bees invented it first)
In times of infection:
• sick bees self-isolate
• foragers stay out of the brood nest
• guards limit entrance traffic
• nurses reduce feeding contact

It’s instinctive, ancient disease prevention.

💀 6. Social Apoptosis: The Hardest Lesson of All
When a bee knows she is sick — especially with viruses carried by mites, she often flies away from the hive to die alone.

It is nature’s most selfless act.

A single life sacrificed…
to save tens of thousands.

💛🐝 Beekeeper Wisdom:
The hive reminds us that community health is built on small, consistent, caring actions —
a little cleaning, a little sacrifice, a little awareness of each other.

They don’t fight alone.
They fight together.

🍯 LESSON:
Strength isn’t just about endurance — it’s about protecting one another, noticing the subtle signs of struggle, and choosing actions that keep the whole community thriving.

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90 Bessie Way
Savannah, TN
38372

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