If you don’t live in the north, it’s hard to understand how severe the Minnesota “bug season” can be. To begin, people who hail from gentler climes have a hard time comprehending our cold weather.
We Northerners like to think of ourselves as tough. When people from gentler climates ask, “How can you stand forty below?” I answer “Pfft. No problem. I just dress for it.”
Ignoring the disbelieving look I receive, I muster on. “When it’s been forty below for a week, twelve below seems tropical.”
Apparently, it’s difficult to understand how anyone willingly lives in an area where winter temps can go as low as the minus 40s, the conversation dwindles, and we change the topic.
However, if the conversation continues, the next question I usually get is about bugs. The fact that some of us deliberately live in a world where nasty biting mosquitoes fill the air for weeks and months also seems impossible to comprehend. When I travel south and people ask if Minnesota mosquitoes are as bad as the stories they hear, I tell them the mosquito is our state bird.
I don’t even mention the black fly swarms.
Occasionally, I meet someone who’s unaware that I’m from the north. The encounter usually goes something like this. “Aren’t the bugs terrible?” a gal from Dixie might complain swatting at a few wimpy mosquitoes unworthy of being called a swarm.
“Where?” I don’t count a handful of mosquitoes as worthy of my attention.
“Right around your head!” She might point as I swat one away with a practiced right hand and splat another with my left.
“Have you any bug spray on you?” she might ask.
“For these few mosquitoes?” I never can quite believe my ears.
“Yea, look at them all?”
I do and usually see a few more circulating in the early evening air. They are puny and undeserving of any attention. “You might not want to visit Minnesota in the summer… or spring… for that matter,” I suggest.
Dealing with these pesky insects takes energy and sometimes ingenuity. My usual tactic for dealing with hordes of mosquitoes is to slather insect repellent on every uncovered piece of my skin. It works pretty well if I ignore the precautionary warnings about toxicity on the bottle labels.
However, I have a new weapon in my arsenal— an electric fly swatter that a friend gave me for my birthday. Battery operated and shaped like a tennis racket, its sole purpose is to zap bugs. It makes the bug season just a little more interesting.
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