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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/911749
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #2017254
My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum.
#911749 added May 25, 2017 at 9:39pm
Restrictions: None
Lots Of Little Things = Blackflies
Prompt: The Wildcard Round! One big thing versus lots of little things... take that in any direction you'd like.
         As many of you fellow bloggers may not be aware, camping has officially begun in my area of Canadian paradise. Whatever the weather, hardy fools such as myself endeavour to enjoy the out of doors. Yes, it is May, and yes, so far, I have experienced extremes ranging from snow, frost, torrential rain, and strong gale-force winds to muggy, sunny, heat waves. It does make the being prepared part of outdoor life difficult. Parkas, hats, and mitts must share space with flip flops, shorts, and t-shirts. The mercurial nature of our local weather is a big thing. Am I bundling up today, or stripping to only the barest of essential clothing?
          The real problem though is that the biting insects thrive upon dampness. They breed in water, and the more of it that exists, the millions more of them that live to pillage and maraud. They are the "lots of little things", the hundreds of gazillion little things. Ideally, they procreate in cool to warm conditions, which describe our Springtime. Voracious and insatiable are these buggers' defining traits. Far worst than mosquitos are the dervishes known as blackflies. They are tiny and relentlessly quick. Their single purpose seems to be to extract as much blood and skin as possible from each squirming victim. The welts they inflict upon our winter white and tender skin itch and swell to a far greater degree of torture than the nibbles of mosquitos.
         Somehow they are able to breech the defenses of our clothing. They hide under our caps, lurk in our hair, and shimmy up sleeves and pant legs. Unlike the distinctive whine/whirr of a prowling mosquito, the blackfly hunts in stealth silence. Actually, I believe they stalk their victims in a pack. Like carnivores, they prefer the fresh blood pulsing in an exposed neck.
         Years of battle have not brought me any relief, or a solution. So called bug sprays are useless. Blackflies consider Deet to be a skin marinade. Lemon balms simply add flavouring. I've tried stuffing a dryer sheet into my hat, or hood, or pocket.... Yes, I smelled wonderful and fresh, but it acted as an aphrodisiac to the blood-suckers, an alluring perfume. Last Spring, I was desperate enough to attempt anything, and so, I dabbed Vicks Vaporub on my pulse points. Whooee, my eyes teared from the mentholatum, and my sinuses were kept surprisingly clear. Did it repel the bloodthirsty blackflies? NO. Now, I wander outside in a hooded bug jacket made of a screened material. ( Think of a walking window screen with a zipper.) It's unnerving to see the swarming blackflies hovering within mere centimetres of my perspiring face. They are sneaky, and quite skilled in the art of the hunt. Those critters I can see are the decoys. They serve to distract me while others penetrate my pitiful screen.
         SIGH! All I can do is pray for hotter temperatures, consistently hot weather. Blackflies find summer'ish times make them sluggish. Perhaps they do not find the necessary summer sunscreens to be delicious, or are they deflected by the lotions' slipperiness?

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