Today I’m grateful that last year I heeded the advice of Rodolfo,
the guy who cuts my hair, and bought a bug zapper. Before I got it, every time
I went out on my patio between mid-May and mid-September, I suffered multiple
mosquito bites. Every. Single. Time.
Even in the time it took to dash out, grab the bird feeder and run
back into the house to refill it—a matter of seconds—I was chewed on.
The first year I resorted to long sleeves and insect repellant,
but that required washing it off again when I got back. Not a really elegant
solution.
But the bug zapper—man, that’s Nobel-worthy technological
advancement. This year I put it out before Memorial Day and it’s been working
like a Trojan ever since. So much that I spent quite some time this weekend
messing about in the garden (including scrupulously overturning every container
that might catch and retain water), and returned indoors unscathed.
Trust me—this is huge. And I’m truly grateful for it.
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