Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CAMP (08/18/22)
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TITLE: Feeding the Mosquitoes | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
08/22/22 -
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Mosquitoes create special anticipation and conversation for camping and they boost the economy. Take the conversation my daughter-in-law and daughters had in preparation for the onslaught.
“Did you see the app showing us the level of mosquito threat?” my oldest daughter asked.
“Yes,” my youngest answered, “with all the rain, it’s high again and I’m not going to suffer this year like last year. I’ve got mosquito coils, zap rackets to fry them, netting, spray, afterbite and three other things to fight back.”
“How are you going to pack all that?” my daughter-in-law asks.
“I’m thinking of farming out the children with the dog at the kennel. It’s either them or the food.”
I’m sure that the miniature flying blood bank is abuzz with excitement every year we book – now running for 50 years straight through 7 generations. We are professional campers who have spread our life-giving plasma on four continents. We bring between 30 and 40 of us to snuggle into the bush so that there is a fresh supply of gourmet platelets available. Slapping ourselves and each other has become a tradition we hardly notice anymore. Newcomers don’t always understand how close our family is. Take this conversation for example between a grandson’s girlfriend and my other grandkids.
“What are you doing?” the newcomer says as she recoils from a whack on the back of the head.
“Mosquito,” my grandson says in explanation without thought.
A granddaughter slaps him firmly across the jaw and then examines her hand while ignoring the blood smear on her cousin’s cheek. “Thirteen,” she says. He continues on with a story about some bear he saw while the girlfriend glares at her boyfriend’s assailant. No one seems to notice.
Two zap rackets wave in the space next to the fire as a pair of young cousins wield their weapons like ancient Egyptian slaves waving fans over a Pharaoh. One of them sparks off near the girlfriend’s face. “What are you doing?” she says again.
“Getting ready to check out the space station and the big dipper,” the child says as she dances in delight at vanquishing another little varmint.
“I think you got a moth that time,” the competitor comments.
“Did not.”
“Did too.” And on it goes as the newcomer slips on a hoodie and sweats.
Now, the mosquitoes were much bigger in Africa – they have to be to drain an elephant while navigating the intense force winds created by those giant ears flapping in self-protection. Only female mosquitoes have the necessary mouth parts to form a long needle-like sucking proboscis. The males distract you with an annoying drone while the silent females move in for the strike. Malaria-carrying mosquitoes are especially heinous – saving their silent business for between two and four in the morning when victims are likely to be blind and comatose.
Males live off flower nectar like bees and butterflies. We’ve come a long way since the fall. 2500 different species somehow escaped the flood’s destruction although we’ll hardly encounter more than a couple of hundred of them.
You can tell a professional camper when the mosquito gets in their drink. Take this conversation for example on my dad’s last trip with us.
“Grandpa, there’s a fly in your coffee,” my young son noted.
“What’s he doing in there?” my wife asked.
After a long hard stare, my father answered, “I think he’s doing the backstroke.” He swigs his coffee. “He drinks me and I drink him. Do you know the difference between a rookie camper and a veteran?” he asks.
“What?” my son asks.
“The rookies see a mosquito in their coffee and throws it away. The regulars take a spoon, fish it out and then drink the coffee. Us veterans just take it as a little extra protein.”
“But grandpa, the mosquito might have blood in it.”
“Don’t worry,” my father says, “I strained it out with my teeth. He wipes his finger across his teeth and breathes deep. “Don’t you love creation? It’s time for family devotions.”
We huddle around the fire, slapping, smacking and waving while singing, sharing and laughing – hungry again for Eden.
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Thanks for a great story.