Speaking of feet…

…last week we went camping with our church family near Bend only to discover that the mosquitoes in this particular Federal Campground are much worse than anything I’ve experienced on the equator in Africa. I wore socks to dinner one night and forgot to spray them with DEET. Big mistake. My feet have 32 bites between the two of them. And I can’t fit my itching feet into my new tennis shoes! I will spare you pictures of this!

One VERY MINOR advantage to this whole exercise in patience is that we discovered that James now holds the title for ‘Mosquito Magnet’. He comes from a long line of ‘sweet ones’, which surely must date back further than my mother and I. From head to toe, James and I achieved well over 100 bites together. It’s a long and not-so-glorious tradition!

One second minor advantage, to play the Pollyanna here, is how much of an adventure Kent and I had trying to get them out of our tent by flashlight after a child (who shall remain nameless) left the door unzipped. With blood on our hands, we danced over our sleeping children for over an hour catching over 70 mosquitoes INSIDE our tent. We awoke to at least 30 more, packed up and went home! =) Really… I don’t have anything against camping.

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