On the menu

It's mossie season again, and everywhere I go I seem to run into a cloud of the hungry little bleeders, going "Mmmm, O rhesus positive, my favourite and such a ripe vintage. Yum." If I have to pass through any woodland or swamp areas I find myself swatting at my wrists and ankles like some comedy German in Lederhosen doing the thigh slapping dance.

I've tried all sorts of repellents, creams, antihistamines and antiseptics and hiding in a hermetically sealed box after nine pm in the evening wearing long trousers but my legs still look like they've been hit by a megaton range acne bomb. A visit to a new local sports store had brought some relief with some heavy duty anti mosquito coils and a little pen gizmo that does give some relief from the maddening itching sensation that keeps me awake at night.

Mrs S, who knows about these things tells me; "It's because you're so hot blooded love." Well, she should know. Now if only I could stop these bloody insect bites itching. There must be at least two dozen on either leg.