Saturday, September 24, 2011


I am, in no way, bug-phobic. I'm used to bugs. I mean, come ON, I live in the soggy, humid Pacific Northwest. I expect to deal with slugs and yellow jackets and mosquitos. I even expect to deal with the clouds of fruit flies that always appear toward the end of August and seem to multiply and multiply and multiply...and then suddenly vanish in September. And, being the mother of two young boys, I've had to learn to appreciate all of the roly poly bugs, assorted beetles, spiders, and ants they bring to my attention (or occasionally put right into my hand, when I'm least expecting it) in a whole new way...

But this Fall, there's something new in town...

What is it? Well, I've never actually seen one up close enough to really identify it, but my neck, scalp, face, feet, fingers, arms, elbows, and even my earlobes, are covered with tiny, red, incredibly itchy bites. I mean the kind of itch you wouldn't wish on the girl who stole your boyfriend right out from under you in college. (Well, to be honest, you might wish it on HER.) The kind of itch that keeps you up at night, as you toss and turn, trying everything to resist scratching. The kind of itch that must be scratched, resulting in unattractive scabs all over your face and body, because everyone knows you can't stop once you start... Are you getting the picture? And, these tiny terrorists are FAST! They swoop in, attack, and swoop out again, before you can squish them the way they deserve to be squished. Now, if your mind went to fleas or bedbugs or some other sort of disgusting household infestation, it's not either of those. These particular mutants are some sort of microscopic flying bugs-from-HELL that live outside and attack relentlessly just before sunset.

How do I know this?

I know this, because my husband and I are still trying to rebuild the back deck we had to rip out three months ago because of wood rot. (Thank you, once again, to the morons who originally built the deck, but didn't bother to attach flashing to the side of the house, resulting in the afore-mentioned wood rot running all along the wall, into the siding, and even into the floorboards. We really appreciated having to rip out a huge section of our wall, paying a contractor to fix the rot we couldn't do ourselves, and then rebuilding the deck. Thank you very friggin' much.)  Anyhoo...Because of this never-ending project, hubby and I are frequently out in the backyard after work around sunset, digging trenches, burying concrete blocks, attaching joist hangers, laying down planks...AND, NOW, BEING EATEN ALIVE BY TINY, HORRIBLE, BLOOD-SUCKING FLYING PARASITES!!!

Where did they come from?

Why do they love the taste of our flesh so much?


Here's hoping you have managed to avoid these mutants. Unless you're the girl who stole my boyfriend in college...



  1. Oh no sounds horrible. My son woke up this am with his arms covered in bug bites. You both must just be too sweet!

  2. Well, aren't you sweet to say so!