Bitey things
I hate this time of year.
Actually, that's not fair. This time of year's great. The days are long, the sun shines and all's well with the world.
Except for one small thing. Or, more accurately, one billion small things.
Around these parts we have a midge problem (and I don't mean Bob's diminutive Scots partner in crime). The little buggers are everywhere, biting, crawling, buzzing and generally making life miserable for anyone who would go outside in the morning or evening.
It was ten o'clock this morning before it was safe to hang out the washing, and it all had to be brought in again at half past six. Before and after these times, when it's light, the garden is a no go area. This is immensely frustrating when the daylight begins before five and is still going strong as I type these words a ten to ten. I'd like to be out there doing things, but without a hazmat suit, stepping outside is inadvisable. As is opening the window when there's a light on in the room.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, this is the common or garden midge. A very small, bloodthirsty insect that likes to hang out in groups of a hundred million or more. It likes to get in your ears. It likes to get up your nose. It's very keen on getting into your mouth. And if it can manage it, dying in your eyes is a particular pleasure. The midges around here are biting types, so as well as pestering, they also like to feed. Wiping them off your arm makes you look like an extra from a Boris Karloff movie. It's not pleasant.
We don't barbecue much here, and that's got nothing to do with the rain.
Actually, that's not fair. This time of year's great. The days are long, the sun shines and all's well with the world.
Except for one small thing. Or, more accurately, one billion small things.
Around these parts we have a midge problem (and I don't mean Bob's diminutive Scots partner in crime). The little buggers are everywhere, biting, crawling, buzzing and generally making life miserable for anyone who would go outside in the morning or evening.
It was ten o'clock this morning before it was safe to hang out the washing, and it all had to be brought in again at half past six. Before and after these times, when it's light, the garden is a no go area. This is immensely frustrating when the daylight begins before five and is still going strong as I type these words a ten to ten. I'd like to be out there doing things, but without a hazmat suit, stepping outside is inadvisable. As is opening the window when there's a light on in the room.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, this is the common or garden midge. A very small, bloodthirsty insect that likes to hang out in groups of a hundred million or more. It likes to get in your ears. It likes to get up your nose. It's very keen on getting into your mouth. And if it can manage it, dying in your eyes is a particular pleasure. The midges around here are biting types, so as well as pestering, they also like to feed. Wiping them off your arm makes you look like an extra from a Boris Karloff movie. It's not pleasant.
We don't barbecue much here, and that's got nothing to do with the rain.
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