It did not take long, and it happened just as I was about to leave the bee yard. But my passing thoughts about whether I needed to wear boots with my bee suit now could easily be answered.

Three unhappy bees found their way to my unprotected ankles and did what they were supposed to do – they stung me. My first three stings of the season. As I always have said, the only reason I get stung is when I have not been careful – by wearing the wrong clothes, cutting a corner, or unnecessarily pissing off the bees.

Today I decided not to wear foot protection. I knew I would need my suit: a cloudy day, cranky bees that were probably hungry and maybe a little bit cold all told me to get my beesuit out of the box in the garden house. I guess I had forgotten how much the bees crawl around whenever I disturb them in the hive. They fly at my hood, explore every zipper and opening in my beesuit, and cling to my gloves.

The task at hand would no doubt please the bees: we were adding fresh winter patties, a mixture of sugar and protein in a solid form that the bees could eat. At this time of year, I suspected they had used up all their honey stores from last summer. Until something starts to bloom in the spring, my bees rely on me to provide that supplemental food. We fed them sugar syrup last fall until cold weather set in, and we will resume that practice as soon as nights stay a bit warmer.

But I ended the afternoon with three stings on the tops of my feet. Right now they just itch, thanks to the poultice of Vitamin C and meat tenderizer that I put on them, and ice (more about those home remedies later).

I never fault my bees when I get stung. They are just doing what they have to do, being bees.