May 24, 2015 |
Coaching high school football is a year-round endeavor, but usually the spring is a time for coaches to take a little bit of a breather. Try telling that to Dwayne Savage, the head football coach at Camden. This spring, Savage has been busier than ever, and he's not complaining. After high school seniors sign letters of intent during the first week in February, college recruiters relentlessly pursue the next class. So during the spring, college coaches often come to high schools, meet with the coaches, watch film of the prospects and get as much information as possible about the players they are recruiting.
May 5, 2015 |
William A. Slimm Jr., 82, of Riverside, owner of the Busy Bee Apiary in Riverside, died of complications from dementia on Sunday, April 26, at the Cinnaminson Center for Genesis HealthCare. Mr. Slimm ran the honey-making business from his home but kept his hives on farms in Cinnaminson, Cherry Hill and Delran, his wife, Laura, said. In his best years, she said, he had more than 200 hives, but because of a widespread mite infestation of recent years, he was down to 55 or 60 at the time of his death.
September 23, 2014
M ELISSA ALAM, 26, of Drexel Hill, is founder of the women-focused website Femme & Fortune and a branding/consulting business. Next month, the 2010 Temple grad is opening the Hive, a co-working space for female entrepreneurs, on Race Street near 2nd, in Old City. Q: How'd you come up with the idea for the Hive? A: I'd been working at Impact Hub, in Kensington, and realized that sitting in one spot is more productive, and the community helped me reach out to a programmer or designer if needed.
September 19, 2014 |
Back-to-school energy pervades September - even decades past graduation. For Jews around the world, this sense is heightened by the overlapping of the Jewish New Year. Rosh Hashanah, literally "head of the year," celebrates ending and beginning again. As part of the annual High Holiday rituals of taking stock, making amends, and looking forward there are opportunities for feasting and fasting, and always there are wishes for a "sweet new year. " That translates at the table to a widespread tradition of eating apples and honey, and other treats at the holiday table.
September 19, 2014 |
Local bee people tout Philadelphia as "the cradle of American beekeeping," since Lorenzo L. Langstroth patented the removable-frame hive here in 1852. It's still used today. Langstroth would likely be thrilled by the new local wave of urban beekeeping, as the Philadelphia Beekeepers Guild, founded just five years ago, now counts nearly 150 members. Only a handful, though, are pros. Among them is Don Shump, owner of the Philadelphia Bee Co., who manages up to 100 hives at 15 apiaries across the city - when he's not mesmerizing audiences with a buzzing beard of swarming bees.
September 8, 2014 |
The cute part was the kids running around with fake antennae on their heads and yellow and black striped vests with wings on the back. The serious part was the discourse on how hives work and what's new with colony collapse disorder. For the eating part, visitors could sample the differences among Roxborough honey, Manayunk honey, West Philly honey, and Blue Bell honey. There was a drinking part, too. Mead, anyone? There were honeybees. And wannabees. For five years, the Philadelphia Beekeepers Guild has thrown an annual fest to celebrate bees and educate the community about the peril they're in. Saturday, the event landed at Germantown's Wyck historic house, garden, and farm, a 2.5-acre oasis of green that just happens to have 15 hives.
August 10, 2014 |
NORTHWEST PHILLY is buzzing - in a very literal sense. Just ask Anaiis Salles, the Germantown beekeeper who has built the better beehive at her base of operations at the Awbury Arboretum, on Awbury Road near Chew Avenue in East Germantown. "Philly itself is such a green city," Salles said, "but in Germantown and Mount Airy, we have lots of gardeners, and it creates a very good place for bees, with plenty of foraging. " Last June, Salles, the founder and operator of Awbury's Green Sanctuary Community Apiary, won a $15,000 federal research grant through the University of Vermont.
May 23, 2014 |
NEWARK, Del. - A lone honeybee, its wings wet and its mind likely muddled, crawled across a porch on Old Cooches Bridge Road yesterday, a seemingly safe haven amid the bee-pocalypse all around. Just 100 yards away, across the busy lanes of Interstate 95 near the University of Delaware, the scene along a northbound on-ramp resembled a tiny battlefield after a major conflict. Bees clung to a gnarled guardrail, barely moving, while others tried to fly between the raindrops, in and out of the many smashed, wooden hives spilled all over the small strip of grass.
August 14, 2012 |
First came a bumblebee. Then, a honeybee settled onto the purple coneflower in Cynthia Cronin-Kardon's garden Sunday. She checked her watch and logged the sighting. Cronin-Kardon was counting bees. She was doing her part to contribute data to what has become one of the nation's most pressing entomological questions: What's happening to its bees? In 2007, commercial beekeepers began to document huge losses among their managed honeybee hives, in what later became known as colony collapse disorder, or CCD. It was a huge concern for agriculture, given that humans owe roughly one bite of food in three to the pollination work of honeybees.
July 20, 2012 |
The last time the Whole Foods Market in Wynnewood was buzzing like this was three summers ago when movie star Reese Witherspoon and then-flame Jake Gyllenhaal shopped for groceries on a Sunday afternoon. This time, the buzz is literal. Last week, store manager Adam Squire lugged a bee hive — about 20,000 bees encased in a wooden box slightly larger than a cat carrier — up a narrow staircase to a spot on the roof. About 30 feet above ground, it overlooks the Amtrak and SEPTA train tracks and the store's chronically congested parking lot. Squire, whose hobby is beekeeping, is taking Whole Foods' holistic approach to the food chain to heart — and to work.