The Clumsy Beekeeper
There are so many reasons that I shouldn’t be a beekeeper, not least the fact that I’m known to be rather clumsy, something honey bees aren’t that fond of. Don’t go off reporting me to the authorities just yet though as it seems my clumsiness is more of a concern for myself than the bees!
I hadn’t been a beekeeper long when my first foray into clumsy beekeeping took place. I was (and still am) determined to be the best beekeeper I could be. I pick up things quickly and had read lots of books so, although nervous, stepped into the world of beekeeping with my two hives still fresh and new and my two swarms with reasonable confidence. It was on one of my “I’ve got this” days that I got into a spot of bother. You see a bee landed on the front of my hood, right in front of my right eye - the conversation I had with myself went something like:
There’s a bee by my face, it’s not moving
Stay calm, it will fly away in a second.
It’s still there, why isn’t it leaving?
It can’t reach your face, don’t worry, just carry on
But it’s just looking at me and not moving, why isn’t it moving?
Stay calm, it’s fine.
Don’t flick it, that will make it, and them, angry.
Ok, let me think, what if I blow it, nope that’s not worked
and that’s when my brain became a dumb ass and decided that if smoke works to move them in the hive then - yep, that’s right - I smoked it: and my face.
As the smoked cleared, tears streaming down my face, unable to see properly and unable to wipe my face without exposing myself to more risk, there she was, still hanging to my hood, oblivious.
They say you learn by your mistakes, I’ve never smoked myself in the face on purpose again. Although it does seem par for the course to smell like a sweaty bonfire after spending time at the apiary and I often get smoked just because I’ve not checked the wind direction before putting the smoker down, or puffed a newly lit smoker with the exit spout pointing right at my face, oh and my niece also thought it would be funny to smoke me on her first visit to the hives age 10. But I haven’t purposely pointed the smoker at myself again.
