DH and I were adjusting pretty well to living in the woods in a 26 foot RV. We found most of the stuff we stashed in all the cubby holes. We
figured out how to light the gas stove without blowing ourselves into the next
county. And we invented a dance that
allowed us to move through our routines in the crowed quarters.
We
were even growing accustomed to doing without our queen-sized bed and to waking
up to the songbird choir. But we weren’t
happy about the vampires. Millions of
blood sucking mosquitoes waited to attack the moment we left the safety of our
tin tent. If they managed to slip inside,
they mocked us with their whine as they floated about.
The
most wicked would wait in a dark corner and then hum in our ears after we went
to bed, telling us how they’d drink our blood as we slept.
We
got pretty good at hunting them down and mashing their little bodies against
the walls. Our reflexes quickened so we
could snatch them out of the air and crush them with our fingers. We developed a routine of soaking ourselves
in repellent before we went about our outdoor tasks.
The
zombies were another story. Right after we arrived at camp, an infestation of tent caterpillars
filled the trees and shrubs with slowly marching fuzzy stripped maggots. We stepped on them by accident and on
purpose. Dozens of them walked to the
edge of the pool and fell in both when it was empty and when it was full of
water. We even painted a few of them sky
blue along with the pool. They were so plentiful that they became a scourge
that stripped acres of aspen trees of their leaves. The birds gorged themselves and fed them to their
babies until they cried, “No! Not caterpillars AGAIN!”
We
suspected and even expected the thief. If we happened to be awake in the night
we thought we could hear something moving around in the dark. Then we brought home an especially delicious
purchase of fresh, sweet cherries from the only grocery store in town. We ate our fill and left the rest in a bowl
on the table. The next morning we found
a couple of the cherries had been sampled by tiny teeth. There were also itty bitty black poo lumps
left behind by the cherry crook. We’d
been careful to store most food in hard containers or in the fridge but our
negligence had caused a breach in security.
We broke out the mouse traps we’d brought along for just such an
occasion. We baited them up with cheese and
waited. The traps were robbed but
unsprung. So we went to the campers’
cooks and begged a spoonful of peanut butter.
We set the traps again and joined everyone at evening campfire.
When
we returned we found a fat little white-footed deer mouse in a trap, still
twitching and not quite dead.
It wasn’t pretty.
Using the boot heel method we made certain it was deceased and tossed it way out into the forest to warn others who might have the same idea.
It wasn’t pretty.
Using the boot heel method we made certain it was deceased and tossed it way out into the forest to warn others who might have the same idea.
4 comments:
I dread hearing even one mosquito, they always torment me - I've realised I must be allergic to them.
The heel method...I don't think I can do that. But it is necessary!
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
https://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/sherlock-boomer
Nature is so untidy.
Mosquitoes are the worst! Oddly, you'll either come to love or hate the scent of DEET. As a child I would go mushroom hunting with my dad in the spring after good rain events. Great for mushroom growing but for mosquito growth as well. I have a lovely scent memory of Deep Woods Off because mushroom hunting with my dad was magic. :)
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