Insects
The cicadas are so loud its like sleeping with my head in a waterfall. Some kind of giant brown beetle keeps hurling itself against the window and falling on its back on the air conditioner. It struggles it right itself, only to throw itself against the window and land on its back again.
I'm covered in chigger bites. They look like chicken pox. The clear nail polish I cover them with peels up and flakes off.
Chiggers are everywhere. I tried to stop Mikey from playing in the brush yesterday. "Chiggers can be taken care of later," he said. Smart boy. He's right. Chigger bites heal, but you can never repeat a missed adventure.
I hear all kinds of sensational stories about chiggers. That they burrow into the skin to lay eggs, and can actually move around under your skin to different parts of your body. The nail polish supposedly blocks their air holes and suffocates them. Enough bites can cause "Chigger Fever," something like the flu. I'm not sure how many of these stories are true. (Note: after returning to Oregon, I did suffer from Chigger Fever. I developed a rash over my belly and a low fever. The chigger bites were everywhere over my skin, especially damp places like the backs of my knees, the insides of my elbows, between my asscheeks, and inside my thighs. They itch like crazy. I kept applying nail polish until they all healed, which took nearly a month.)
I found a tick on my scalp, running my hands through my hair. It pulled off cleanly and we dropped it in some rubbing alcohol. It struggled to escape for several minutes, then rolled over on its back to die. Why do bugs always die on their backs?
Larry showed me a red wasp. Huge, bright red, with a nasty stinger. Luckily, they're relatively uncommon. (I saw two the whole time I was in Arkansas, including one in Chris' kitchen. We evacuated and had Larry kill it.)
He also showed me a cow ant. Big furry bright-colored ant with a stinger strong enough to poke through fingernails. Also blissfully loners.
Turn off the lights, hope the flies settle down, and go to sleep.
I'm covered in chigger bites. They look like chicken pox. The clear nail polish I cover them with peels up and flakes off.
Chiggers are everywhere. I tried to stop Mikey from playing in the brush yesterday. "Chiggers can be taken care of later," he said. Smart boy. He's right. Chigger bites heal, but you can never repeat a missed adventure.
I hear all kinds of sensational stories about chiggers. That they burrow into the skin to lay eggs, and can actually move around under your skin to different parts of your body. The nail polish supposedly blocks their air holes and suffocates them. Enough bites can cause "Chigger Fever," something like the flu. I'm not sure how many of these stories are true. (Note: after returning to Oregon, I did suffer from Chigger Fever. I developed a rash over my belly and a low fever. The chigger bites were everywhere over my skin, especially damp places like the backs of my knees, the insides of my elbows, between my asscheeks, and inside my thighs. They itch like crazy. I kept applying nail polish until they all healed, which took nearly a month.)
I found a tick on my scalp, running my hands through my hair. It pulled off cleanly and we dropped it in some rubbing alcohol. It struggled to escape for several minutes, then rolled over on its back to die. Why do bugs always die on their backs?
Larry showed me a red wasp. Huge, bright red, with a nasty stinger. Luckily, they're relatively uncommon. (I saw two the whole time I was in Arkansas, including one in Chris' kitchen. We evacuated and had Larry kill it.)
He also showed me a cow ant. Big furry bright-colored ant with a stinger strong enough to poke through fingernails. Also blissfully loners.
Turn off the lights, hope the flies settle down, and go to sleep.