THE ITCHENING
SO. MANY. MOSQUITOS.
I am getting crazy-good at the 3 a.m. deranged turn-on-lights, put-on-bathrobe, grab-shirt-to-swat-with swoop, followed by freezing sharply and scanning the pale walls for signs of bloodsuckers. It's easier when they've already fed, because they fly slower, lower and with fewer evasive tactics -- I've even popped a couple with the flats of my fingers, leaving a bright red smear of blood on my hand. MY BLOOD. BASTARDS. I got two last night, two in the living room and two in the bedroom. I am starting to keep my windows closed. I hate it, but my arms are a constellation of bites and oh god, the ITCHING. Knuckle? Sole of foot? Face? I've had all of the worst of them, all in the last couple weeks.
I've already trawled the yard looking for standing water and emptied out a couple small buckets, but I worry that the locked, untended side yard being used for storage is where the bastards are coming from.
Interestingly, the whine of a mosquito and the whine of a two-stroke engine on the elevated freeway two blocks to the west are, from my bed, NEARLY IDENTICAL.
I am getting crazy-good at the 3 a.m. deranged turn-on-lights, put-on-bathrobe, grab-shirt-to-swat-with swoop, followed by freezing sharply and scanning the pale walls for signs of bloodsuckers. It's easier when they've already fed, because they fly slower, lower and with fewer evasive tactics -- I've even popped a couple with the flats of my fingers, leaving a bright red smear of blood on my hand. MY BLOOD. BASTARDS. I got two last night, two in the living room and two in the bedroom. I am starting to keep my windows closed. I hate it, but my arms are a constellation of bites and oh god, the ITCHING. Knuckle? Sole of foot? Face? I've had all of the worst of them, all in the last couple weeks.
I've already trawled the yard looking for standing water and emptied out a couple small buckets, but I worry that the locked, untended side yard being used for storage is where the bastards are coming from.
Interestingly, the whine of a mosquito and the whine of a two-stroke engine on the elevated freeway two blocks to the west are, from my bed, NEARLY IDENTICAL.