‘Terrible, just terrible,’ Dad tut-tutted over his farming newspaper. He turned the page, shaking his head and mumbling random phrases under his breath. ‘Total disaster.’ ‘Shocking.’ ‘What are we to do?’

Kate was also reading at the breakfast table. Animal Monthly was her favourite magazine. It had pictures and facts about animals in Ireland and all over the world. Kate was already knowledgeable about the sleeping habits of badgers, baboons and brown bears, but lately there was something else that had caught her attention and was making her feel quite cross.

‘Is that really true?’ she asked no one in particular. ‘How awful!’ She eagerly turned the pages, shaking her head in disbelief as her eyes scanned the words and pictures.

Peter was too busy ‘eating’ his porridge to pay much attention to the grumblings of his dad and sister. He hated porridge but had come up with a cunning plan to avoid eating it. He brought each spoonful up to his lips and then quickly moved it under the table to where Blue, his border collie, was waiting patiently for yet another delicious mouthful. Having a dog who eats everything you hate is pretty useful.

‘Mmmmmm, great porridge, Mam,’ Peter would occasionally say to deflect his mother’s suspicions.

It was late August, which was always a quiet time on the farm. Most of the spring lambs had been sold by now, although Dad had held a few back this year. The market for sheep was so poor, he hoped that if he waited for the later sales the prices would be better. But time was running out, and they had to be sold soon. It was nearly time to put the ram out with the ewes again and get ready for another busy lambing season in the spring.

However, one of the lambs, a young Texel ram, would not be sold and instead would stay at Hazel Tree for breeding. Larry had been the runt of the litter and his mother had rejected him. Dad took him home, and the children helped to bottle-feed him in his early days. He was successfully adopted and had thrived under the care of his new mum. Now Larry was maturing into a fine ram, his emerging physical strength only matched by his strong character and personality.

The future lambs of such a fine purebred Texel ram would no doubt be of high quality and worth a lot of money. The question was … would it be enough to keep Hazel Tree going over the winter months?

On this morning, Dad’s early yard work was done and he was finishing his ‘second breakfast’. He got up so early that a cup of tea and a slice of bread would hold him until the animals had been tended to, then it was home for some eggs, toast and a slice (or two) of bacon.

Mam topped up their tea as Dad continued to read, grunting over the words as he did so. ‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled. ‘What are people supposed to do?’

‘It’s just so unfair,’ Kate whimpered from the opposite chair. ‘Why isn’t someone doing something?’

Mam stood up, holding the teapot in one hand and placing the other squarely on her hip. ‘Are you two going to tell me what you’re reading, or do I have to guess? Oh, and Peter,’ she added, turning his way, ‘if I see you giving Blue one more spoonful, you will have porridge for lunch and dinner.’

The gig was up. Peter brought his hand back to the table. Blue, her nose covered with porridge, followed his hand. She hadn’t finished that spoonful and a big dollop of porridge fell to the floor.

‘I’ll just clean that up,’ Peter said, moving from his chair to the sink in one quick motion.

‘Sheep prices,’ said Dad, oblivious to the porridge chaos. ‘Things have never been so bad.’

He spun his paper around so Mam could read the headline: Sheep Prices at an All-Time Low. A Market in Crisis!

‘There’s no market at all for us,’ Dad said sadly. ‘People aren’t buying wool, and some supermarkets are stocking imported meat. It’s not even local.’

Mam tut-tutted and shook her head. ‘Those supermarkets need to remember that without farmers, they would have very little on their shelves.’

‘Ahem.’ Kate cleared her throat in a bid to get some attention of her own. ‘Farmers aren’t the only food producers in trouble.’

She looked around to make sure everyone was listening. ‘Our bees! Did you know their population is in decline?’

‘Good,’ said Peter. ‘I got stung by a bee once and it hurt.’

Kate glared at him, her eyes growing large. ‘First of all, not all bees sting, and if they do it’s because they feel threatened. And second, it’s the girl bees that have the stinger, so watch out when girls are about.’

‘What does deline mean, anyway?’ Peter asked through a mouthful of horrid porridge.

‘Decline, Peter,’ Kate said again, this time louder. ‘Decline means their population is falling. As in … nearly gone. Like FOREVERRRRRRR.’

Her dramatic tone made Peter’s forehead crinkle.

‘If we don’t start protecting bees and their homes, there will be no bees left,’ she added, her voice wobbling.

‘Ok,’ said Peter, wanting to get this conversation over with but not wanting his sister to feel sad. ‘What is the big deal if we have no bees?’

‘Pollination, of course. They pollinate our plants,’ said Kate, rubbing her eyes.

‘Eurrrrgh, gross,’ said Peter. ‘That’s what makes all the rivers and lakes dirty.’

Dad chuckled.

‘That’s pollution, Peter,’ said Mam with a smile.

‘I’m talking about POLLINATION.’ Kate was exasperated now. ‘Bees carry pollen from one flowering plant to another and pollinate them. Then fruit and berries can grow on our trees and hedges, and our countryside is green and more beautiful. Isn’t that right, Dad?’

Kate looked over at her father, who was once more engrossed in his newspaper.

He looked up, baffled by the sudden silence and the three sets of eyes that were on him. ‘Eh, yes?’ he both asked and answered.

Mam went to the fruit bowl and picked up an apple and a pear. ‘Catch!’ she shouted, throwing a piece of fruit to Dad and Peter. ‘These were flowers before the bees and other pollinators came along. You’re right, Kate, it is a problem and I promise we will do something about it.’

Kate beamed. Nobody knew it yet, but she was already planning what she was going to do about it. She had been working on a plan that was so brilliant it made her head spin.

Kate had been stuffing as much bee knowledge into her head as she possibly could, watching documentaries and reading books and magazine articles. She never knew how important bees were – not just for helping us grow fruit and other food, but they also helped habitats to develop which created homes for other animals. Now that Mam was on her side, it was time to put her plan into action. ‘Operation Plan Bee’ was a go!

Outside the kitchen window, the late-summer sun shone and the melody of farm life played on. Along with the sounds of sheep baa’ing, the new calves bellowed in their low tones. Kate’s hens were also part of this special choir, their clucking and scratching becoming so loud that they drowned out the music of the other animals.

Kate’s favourite hen, Hettie (aka ‘the Boss’), was fussing around the brood that at one point had been her tiny, fluffy chicks. These chicks were now fully grown and laying eggs of their own, which were sold in Maggie and Kate’s honesty boxes at the gate of Cooper’s Cottage. Fluffing her feathers to show she meant business, Hettie scurried around the group, making sure they stayed together and only pecked at the best worms and bugs.

Once she was happy that they could be left to their own devices, Hettie made her way to the back door. Her familiar peck, peck, peck announced that she was ready to be brought indoors to be with her favourite human.

‘Morning, Hettie!’ the family chorused, as she hopped into the kitchen. Kate made her way over, enveloping the little hen in a warm embrace.

After the arrival of Hettie’s chicks, Maggie and Kate’s honesty box empire had grown. They were now known as the ‘eggpreneurs’, and their one honesty box had become three. People from all over the area came for their eggs, and a queue of cars could often be seen outside Maggie and Eamon’s cottage. At one stage, a photographer from the local newspaper had even come to take their photo.

‘Right, everyone,’ Mam announced as she cleared away the plates from breakfast. ‘We have a busy day ahead of us.’

The children looked at each...