So Do I Owe Blind Melon Money?

I've found myself complaining about the lack of rain these days, and I guess if Blind Melon doesn't like it, they can come speak to me about it.   I whine about our recent dry spell often, and I am sure that my friends and family and random strangers are sick of it, but it is what it is.   I know that whining about such things is generally associated with elderly people with canes, but once I became a homeowner, I started worrying about such things.  Too little rain and the foundation can crack due to the house settling!!! That thought keeps me up nights. But the worst?  The dust.  Almost constantly the wind is whipping up dust devils, and the air is saturated with dust, and we breathe that stuff in.  I'm 93.67% sure that that is why Zane and I have had this persistent cough for the past few months.  The only reason that I'm not sucking on my inhaler every hour is the thought that I should not be opening up my lungs so more dust can be sucked in.

Our back yard was green last year only because of the weeds, but even those died, and now we have a ton of dirt patches.  The dog loves those dirt patches because she is at that annoying puppy stage where she wants to dig a hole in every surface out there.  She'd dig a hole in the carpet if we left her alone!  The cats seem to survive on less water than the dog, but they spend most days sleeping, while Maisy is always running all over the back yard just to feel the wind as her ears flap in the breeze.  Cats are natural conservationists, living only in the moment, working only hard enough to survive.  No wonder those two species have so much trouble getting along.

I always put out water in the back yard for the birds and random critters.   I'm a sucker for animals.  But I have to be careful--standing water is where mosquitoes lay their eggs.  There can't be too many mosquitoes, it upsets the balance of the Force, and the world would tilt on its axis.  Except that the birds around here love them some mosquitoes, so maybe mosquitoes are good eating on some odd plane of existence.  Maybe somewhere mosquitoes are a delicacy. Maybe the special there is mosquito soup, mosquito rollups, mosquito salad sandwiches.  Maybe in this place mosquitoes are considered better than bacon.   

Nah.  Nothing is better than bacon.

So anyway, what does a woman have to do to get some rain around here?  Should I do a rain dance?  I could totally do that, as long as no nudity is involved.  Okay maybe a little nudity, if that will get me some rain.

The All-You-Can-Eat Mosquito Buffet

Mosquitoes don't like me.  I'm not bragging here, but mosquitoes just don't seem eager to bite me.  There may be tons of the insects outside, but they leave me alone.  I can remember having mosquito bites as a child.  I seem to be persona non grata to them nowadays.  Occasionally I will get a couple of bites, but it is likely just a couple of young mosquitoes playing the mosquito version of "Chicken".   I don't even get the raised bump of a mosquito bite, just a red spot, as if the insect immediately died and fell away before even a sip of blood was tasted.     

My husband on the other hand, is viewed locally as an All-You-Can-Eat Buffet for mosquitoes.  If he sets foot outside, he is immediately surrounded by a floating black cloud of bloodsuckers.  It looks like a scene from a bad horror movie, and when it is over, my husband has to take benedryl to recover from the itchy bites.  I secretly call them his groupies, since I read that only female mosquitoes bite.  To mow the lawn, Larry has to first slather himself in insect repellent, and then roll around in a different insect repellent, and then put on two layers of clothing.  He also wears dark sunglasses so the mosquitoes don't recognize him, but it does no good.  They are waiting for him when he opens the garage door, not disturbed in the least by the sound of the lawnmower.  When we  travel to different places, the mosquitoes around here wire their friends, who usually meet us as soon as we get out of the car, wherever we happen to be.  Picture any scene in The Birds, only with mosquitoes.

I'm starting to get a little jealous, as stupid as that sounds.  What does he have that I don't have?  There has to be some reason!  Does my blood taste bad or something?  Do the mosquitoes know something that I don't know?  Was I exposed to random chemicals as a child that have made my blood toxic to mosquitoes? Was I bitten by a radioactive mosquito?  Shouldn't I have a superpower, if that is the case?  Is that my superpower--my ability to repel mosquitoes? Because that is pretty lame, as superpowers go. Superman at least gets to leap tall buildings!