The great outdoors and I

Ah. The great outdoors. Wondrous. Green, lush, vibrant.

Nature. We love each other. The grass and plants and trees. The insects and wildlife.... They all love me and want to get closer to me.

The wonderful plants. Of which I am allergic: birch trees. Why. You are so pretty damnit. Of someone burns you anywhere near me, I turn into an itchy, burning, omg I can't see or breathe kind of mess.

Poison ivy, sumac and oak. Yes, the clue is in the name. But really? Like this? I had a violent reaction early this year, it was just vines. Not even any leaves yet. I wore long sleeves and pants. Soaked straight through. Someone asked me if I had been in a fire. No. Just doing yard work. My husband told me not to anymore. I was banned as a child too.

Mosquitoes. Ah. You. Slimy little bloodsucking bastards. The one part of nature I could do very much without. One night out of doors this past Saturday. Yes, just one.  I sprayed down with a deet containing spray. Are we sure it wasn't pheremones? 89 bites. Itchy, swollen, horrible. On the tips of my toes, my instep. My arms, back and neck. I wear jeans all summer for a reason. And they bite through them. My thighs. 89 bites.

But the good one for last. Bees and wasps. We actually like each other. Really do. Bees tolerate me well. I let them be, they don't sting me or pay me much mind. Wasps? We play. I catch them gently when they fly too near someone who does not love them. I feed them sugar water applied directly onto my skin. I let them swarm me. I have held up to 10 without problem. Seeing something like that does something to otherwise rational people though. They look at me like I am the devil. I fed a wasp once, from my soda can, a big fat drop on my palm. I watched him drink it all. He turned to face me, dropped his stinger to my palm, lightly touched down and flew away. It felt like a thanksgiving.

Good and bad all over. But mosquitoes? Urgh.