About 25 years ago, our family moved to the rural idyl of West Brookfield in Massachusetts. A few years before we had answered a newspaper real estate ad (remember those?) that said “Firewood forever.” the land on offer had that, but also was sloped such that Edmund Hilary would have found it a challenge.
I wouldn’t say it was bait and switch, but more level upgrade was a tad more expensive, but not horribly so.
So we built a house on our small acreage and started gardening and keeping poultry and a family cow. We learned a lot, but made lots of mistakes.
As soon as we could we went to the Worcester County Beekeepers Association bee school. It was one of the best academic experiences ever.
Spring arrived and I had purchased and assembled a hive and a “nuc.” that is essentially a nucleus hive with a queen and a few pounds of worker bees and some frames. The contents of the nuc had to be installed in the hive. I assembled the tools and put on my beekeepers gear.
As I worked with the bees, I realized that there were several tens of thousands of the young ladies, all with stingers and if they got upset and I did not have the equipment on, could kill me. A sobering thought to say the least.
Somehow, despite the terror, I did not panic. The bees were installed and summer was beautiful.
I have stayed with beekeeping and learned that one never learns everything about bees.