Stung Into the Club – A New Chapter in My Bee Adventure

With training sessions buzzing along at the Bee Society site (and me not allowed to join in for the next four weeks!), I wasn’t ready to press pause on my bee learning journey — not during one of the busiest times of the year! So, rather than hang up my bee suit and twiddle my thumbs, I reached out to a lovely friend and fellow beekeeper to see if I could tag along with her for some bee time. Thankfully, she said yes. Bee people are good like that.

Off we went to her second site, where she keeps three hives. Two seemed lively, busy little bee cities, while one was oddly quiet — or so we thought. Naturally, we headed to the “quiet” hive first. Turns out, it was anything but. Once inside, the bees were whirring away like a busy underground party. I was handed the reins (or, well, the hive tool), and took my turn going through the frames. At first, I was a little too quick with the whole take-frame-out-put-it-back routine. Apparently, bees don’t love that. They started to buzz a little more aggressively, and I could feel the mood shift — like I’d walked into a café and said something controversial about honey.

And then it happened.

A small drama unfolded in the crook of my arm. One poor bee got trapped in a fold of my bee suit sleeve and, after a brief struggle, let me know she was not okay with the situation. Sting! Right through the sleeve! It was a surprise — like someone poking you with a hot needle for no clear reason — but I soldiered on.

Then, just as I was mentally processing that first sting (and very heroically not crying), I felt a sharper, more determined pain on my waist. Another bee, another message: “Slow down, human!” That one stung quite a bit more. I mean, if the first one was a polite warning, this one was more of a “you're not listening!”

So, two stings within minutes. My very first ever.

Now, I know some beekeepers go ages without a sting, and others wear theirs like badges of honour. For me, it felt… a bit like failure. Like I hadn’t listened closely enough to what the hive was trying to tell me — or I was just too fumbly and fast. But as the initial pain dulled, a strange sense of pride crept in. I’d been initiated! Baptised by sting! Maybe a little clumsy, definitely a little ouchy — but undeniably, more of a beekeeper than I was the day before.

Also, let’s be honest, now I can tell people I got stung through a bee suit — twice. It gives me a bit of street credibility  in bee circles, maybe?

Looking back, the hive definitely felt more intense than usual. Maybe I imagined the angry atmosphere, or maybe bees really can project their mood. Either way, it was a moment that reminded me how alive, reactive, and full of personality each hive can be.

Lesson learned: slow down, listen more, and always double-check for sneaky suit folds.

Until next time — hopefully less stingy, but just as exciting.

• What’s the hobby or passion you’ve taken up since retirement (or plan to one day)?

• Do you have any bee-related tales, stings, or sweet successes to share?

• or other stories about interests you have taken up since your retirement?

• or interests you want to take up?