Only I could manage to get stung by a bee on the bottom of my foot while walking out to the coop in the middle of a sudden snow storm in November.
Let me back up a bit.
A few weeks ago I discovered that we had a substantial bee problem in our attic. Large ones that were prone to dive bombing anyone coming into the attic and the whole place smelled like honey. This past weekend it was cold and I wanted to get into the attic. There were lots of dead bees all over the floor and a few that were walking around on bits of furniture acting very lethargic. I was able to get a great deal of the attic cleaned out and organized and the whole time I was looking for a hive or honey combs or anything resembling a home-for-bees. Nothing, until I started cleaning up the area dedicated to gift wrapping supplies. I started getting harassed by a few bees who were having no trouble getting around despite the lethargy of their siblings. At this point, it was dark outside and the few attic lights were not giving me enough to poke around in the dark corner with the Christmas gift bags.
As of today, the attic is mostly cleaned up and on the next bright and sunny weekend day we will be up there to find where they were living, how they were getting in and making sure it doesn't happen again.
There have been a few wayward bees that have made there way down into the house and one apparently decided to take a nap in my work boot. I returned from martial arts class tonight, after driving through the first snow squall of the season, only to put my boots on and get stung on the bottom of my foot while I was half way to the coop.
The chickens didn't really care that I was limping around - they just wanted their kitchen scraps.