If you’ve been following my bee adventures, you’ll notice that I’ve been quiet about the bees for a long time. As you might have read, my last hive opening was less than successful. The ending wasn’t happy for me. I was stung across the thighs more than a dozen times. I was also stung on my foot, through my sock, once. My foot was so swollen that I couldn’t wear shoes for several days, and I made another trip to the doctor. (While not systemically allergic, I suffer from a Large Localized Reaction from bee stings, just as I always have from mosquitoes and spiders.)

I thought the bees’ temper would subside, but each time I changed the feeder, now on the front of the hive, they were still pissed with me. I was finding that I could no longer refill the feeder without full body armor. I started approaching the hive stealthily from the rear, and they still buzzed around me before I touched a thing. To make matters worse, the bees seemed to be getting hungrier, and the feeder needed filling every other day. Needless to say, my trauma was more lasting than I anticipated.

The hive continued to buzz away busily, seemingly healthy and strong. I was hesitant to open things up and confirm. In mid-June, just as I arrived home from work, Howard and Bella were playing in the yard, no where near the feeder, and some bees were buzzing them. As I was helping Howard get Bella into the house with the briefest of door openings, I was stung again on the bare skin of my foot. Another several days without shoes.

Even as a novice beekeeper, from everything I’ve read about bees, this aggressive behavior is just not normal. Howard gently suggested that beekeeping might not be the right hobby for me. As disappointed as it made me, I was starting to agree.

Since then, my friend Laury and I attended a meeting of the Middlesex County Beekeepers’ Association. There, we met other beekeepers, both novices like us and more experienced ones. When I shared my tale of woe, they gave two suggestions. The first, was to change the feeder location from the front, back to the top, or to stop feeding altogether. Feeding from the front can attract robber bees which will make a hive’s bees very protective.

The second idea, which is more involved, is to requeen the hive. If the behavior is genetic, all the eggs from my current queen could have the same nasty disposition. By changing the queen, in about a month, new bees with different genetics will start to populate the hive. Option #2 is more intimidating because I have to find a new queen (which I can buy, it’s not like I have to search the wild). Then I have to locate my existing queen in the hive and kill her. Finally, I introduce the new queen into the hive as I did when I first set up the hive.

My immediate course of action was the easier one. The bees emptied the feeder, so I just took it away. Now, a bit of “wait and see” to find out whether they will mellow.

Along with the time to stop feeding is the time to add another box of frames that, once filled, will be “honey for me”. If I wanted to add the box, there was no avoiding at least opening the hive up because I had to move the inner cover above the new honey super.

I was home alone, so it’s debatable whether it was a wise decision to proceed, but I wanted to face my fears and move on to the next phase of beekeeping. I suited up: the hooded jacket, the gloves, two pairs of socks, and rubber bands around my jeans. My cell phone was stashed in my jacket pocket, though now that I think about it, I wouldn’t be able to dial without removing my gloves. (Note to self: next time, use the cordless house phone.)

I’m happy to report that it was a small victory for me! I creeped though the bushes to the back of the hive, and the bees ignored me. I smoked the entrance and under the lid. I lifted the lid, no reaction. I even pried off the inner cover, and the bees were mellow. I peeked at a few of the frames. All were built out with wax. There were bees, capped brood, eggs, and honey. I was nervous to linger and didn’t spend any more time looking than that. I slid the new box on top, replaced the inner cover and lid, and walked away. The bees didn’t seem to even notice I was there. What a relief! Maybe the bees were getting robbed or maybe it was the time of day, but I feel much better about whatever’s next.

Alone, with the anxiety I had, it was impossible to photograph what I saw inside the hive. You’re just getting a shot of the (now) three-story hive. Maybe next time, Howard will be able to take pictures of the activity. Until then…

Yesterday marked the end of my first month as a beekeeper. It could be the end of a short-lived stint as beekeeper.

After last week’s inspection when I saw that the frames were filling up with beeswax, pollen, eggs, and capped brood, I was anticipating a big step forward by adding frames to the upper deep box. These frames will give the bees even more room for new brood and for making honey for their own winter stores.

Success on that front, the top box is filled with frames. That might have been the only success of the day. On a scale from one to ten (ten is highest), this week I’d give the beekeeper (that’s me) a two, at best, even though it started out reasonably well.

I gave the bees a few puffs through the entrance and the inner cover. Then, I gently started to inspect each frame. The bees had been busy since last week. Nine frames were covered with drawn wax and a lot of the wax cells were filled with things: eggs, larvae, capped brood, pollen, and honey. I even saw the queen hard at work.

Some of the cells in the middle of the hive, where I remember seeing capped brood last week, were empty. I assume that that my first round of baby bees has hatched, cleaning out their cells which now await another round of eggs.

To my novice eyes, everything looked fine. No new supercedure cells either, so Nancy was right, they were just practicing.

I added the second box on top, without the inner cover between the boxes this time. Then, I added ten new frames and covered everything up with the inner then outer covers. All was still going well.

With the upper box filled with frames, I now have to change how the bees are fed their sugar syrup. The feeder I have is known as a Boardman feeder. So far, the feeder has rested on top of the inner cover, sitting inside the empty upper box, but that won’t work anymore. The feeder can protrude from the front of the hive, so that was the goal.

Easier said then done. The first issue was that the smoker was out, again. Feeling I was almost done, I underestimated how much I was annoying the bees and just continued along. To place the feeder at the entrance, I had to remove the entrance reducer that was sitting there. Boy, did that piss off the bees. Of course, I’d feel the same way if a stranger came by and unexpected burst open my front door.

Last photo before all hell broke loose

They weren’t shy about letting me know how they felt. The top half of me was well-covered, but the bees starting landing on my pants and stinging through. I was trying hard to brush them off, but they kept on coming. I didn’t really want to take my pants off right in the backyard, and I didn’t want to run into the house either. Howard got stung on his arm and Bella (the dog) did too (the trifecta). No one got it like me though. I was stung by 10-15 bees. Once on my foot (through my sock), and the rest on my thighs (through my pants).

It really hurt (and still does). I have always had strong reactions to insect bites, like mosquitoes and spiders. It turns out that bees fall into the same category. On the positive side, I didn’t have a whole-body reaction and didn’t go into anaphylactic shock, so I’m not truly allergic. I’ve been mildly concerned about that, never having been stung by a bee before I took up this hobby. However, over 24 hours later, my thighs are still covered with red circles the size of oranges, and they are hot and swollen. And my foot is swollen as if I sprained it. Being me right now isn’t the most comfortable way to be. (I won’t be sharing any photos of my battle scars as they are just too gross.)

My biggest problem seems to be the smoker. I haven’t mastered making a fire that puts out smoke for the length of my inspection. I’m OK at the beginning, but then the smoke peters out, before I’m done needing it. I am going to have to figure out how to do this step right or I’ll have to stop this hobby.

Fortunately, I can let the bees be for the next week while we all recover this week’s visit. I think the major issue (other than wearing the wrong pants) is my lack of skill with the smoker. I’ll see what I can do about that (with Howard’s help) for my next inspection. My confidence is somewhat shaken, but I’m not quite ready to thrown in the towel. Obviously, I still have a lot to learn.