“I mean,” she said, “all I wanted to do was to water the hanging baskets under the eaves when I was attacked by a squadron of mosquitos…” Then, while rolling up the sleeve of her shirt, she said, “Look at those bites.”
Another voice joined in, “I was in the hot tub up to my chin, when the mosquitos came after me- yikes!” This gal showed the bites on her face. And, of course, being the hypochondriac that I am, I chimed in with my attempt to weed my very-overgrown yard while battling battalions of mosquitos.
So, I guess it’s mosquito time in Central New York, completing the horror cycle of plague and pestilence attributed to the summer of 2021. First there is COVID-19, the big troll under the bridge, then there is the ever-present flu that circulates and comes home around the beginning of fall and, of course, EEE, or Easter Equine Encephalitis. Add the particularly hot and wet summer and an explosion of ticks and the barrage of illnesses they carry, along with burgeoning mildew and mold, and we are scrambling to modify our behaviors to accommodate these quagmires of destruction.
For COVID-19 and the flu there are vaccinations, masks and social distancing. What do you do about EEE and ticks? Yes, I know, wear long sleeves, long pants, spray yourself with DEET and hope for the best.
Personally, I will take all of the vaccinations, wear the masks and socially distance myself appropriately, but I have qualms, whatever a qualm is, about the precautions that require us to don clothing appropriate for artic climes when this has been one of the hottest summers on record. Has anyone heard about heat prostration and its cousins? And then there is DEET and its detractors. It acts on the nervous systems of insects, but nerves are nerves, and I have nerves, so I did some google research and found out that DEET is either fine or it is not fine. Geesh…I do have friends who use combinations of essential oils, about which I am also “qualming.” if that is a word, to ward of mosquitos and ticks.
Everyone has their own suggestions. Lavender is supposed to repel moths … at least that is what the gentleman who cleans rugs has told me. If I rub crushed lavender buds over my exposed skin, will that help repel the enemy insects or just attract homesick Frenchmen from Provence?
Surprisingly, on the hottest days in July and August, the floor in our family room, once the floor of the ballroom at the Hotel Onondaga, was actually wet – a perfect example of condensation on cold ceramic tile. Our six cats left us a series of unexpected footprint patterns on the dampened floors.
Mold and mildew have become the best-growing flora around my house. Even the mint …yes, the mint, has been infected with some kind of fungus. The front steps are green, as is the first row of cement siding along the north side of the house. Even the driveway has green patches. But the patio! My gosh, it is covered with moss. It’s lovely, but quite dangerous for those of us who need a cane to perambulate.
Yesterday, while in our downstairs powder room, I noticed that there was a gray fuzzy substance creeping up the wooden wainscot next to the commode as well as on the bottom of the door to the room. Oh, my gosh. What to do? Yet another form of fungi? What to do? Attack with bleach?
Google had the answer. Not bleach, but something else was called for. Ah, yes … a spray bottle of plain old white vinegar in hand, I attacked this fungi factory, wiped down the infected areas again and brought in a small fan to recirculate the air. Is this what the Brits call “rising damp?”
How did I survive summers in the past? When I was a child, I was outside all the time, bitten by mosquitos and vicious yellow jackets, and we used this stuff called Saymon’s Salve to stop the itch and, if we were stung, my grandmother would mix up some mud to put on the bite. She would also use vinegar on a sunburn.
I remember fairy rings of toadstools after it rained heavily, but not much else. If there was mold, the adults kept it a secret. Yes, there was polio, but if that was a worry, it was my parents’ and grandparents’ worry. We did get the vaccine on several occasions, none of which was traumatic or had political implications.
While the important people are contemplating the fallout of climate change and rising sea levels, fire storms, stronger hurricanes, droughts and mass migrations, I have my own constellation of environmental Hoodoo, armed with lavender buds, masks, social distance and the cure-all – vinegar. We all do our part.
I wonder, if you rubbed vinegar on your skin, would that deter the mosquitos and ticks?
