Blood Bath and Beyond
The city of Nauvoo was built on the banks of the Mississippi River, and originally it was a swamp. The early pioneers became very sick with Malaria before the swamp was drained. There are still billions of mosquitoes in the area. I think most of them came to visit while we were in the town.
Sunday night the mosquitoes had passed the word that there were members of our family who were very tasty. That night, Hannah wisely decided to sleep in the car. The rest of us weren't that smart.
Tired from the many activities of the day, Steven and I retired to our sleeping bags ready to sleep. We closed our eyes, snuggled down and prepared to sleep, only to be brought to sudden wakefulness by a buzzing in our ears. We would swat away the offending bug, roll over, and once again attempt to sleep, but it was useless. Before we had achieved a truly restful state, the mosquitoes would come calling again. Occasionally we would hear John toss and turn, or Peter murmer, "Stop that!" throughout the night.
Around 3am, Steven and I looked at each other and realized we were not going to get any sleep at all at this rate. We decided to take action and fight back against the insects that had been causing us so much misery. Steven shone the flashlight against the wall of the tent, and we began our attack. Everywhere we saw the little black skeeters, we would grab, clap, smash and crush them. When one wall was cleared of the nasty bloodsuckers, we moved to another wall and began the process all over again. After half an hour or so, Steven's hands were covered in blood, and there were bloody smears all over the walls of the tent as well.
Unfortunately, most of the blood was our own. Our hands and arms and faces were covered in itchy red welts. By morning, Peter looked like he had the measles because of all the red spots on his face and arms. He wondered if he tastes like pizza to mosquitoes.
Even today, most of us are still covered in painfully itchy spots, that don't seem to be healing. We have coated them with anti-itch cream to no avail. We have taken Benadryl... (I think that contributed to my sleeping so much the day we returned home.) We try not to scratch, but every time an article of clothing rubs against our arms or feet, we are reminded of the many bites' presence.
Why, oh why did God create mosquitoes???
Sunday night the mosquitoes had passed the word that there were members of our family who were very tasty. That night, Hannah wisely decided to sleep in the car. The rest of us weren't that smart.
Tired from the many activities of the day, Steven and I retired to our sleeping bags ready to sleep. We closed our eyes, snuggled down and prepared to sleep, only to be brought to sudden wakefulness by a buzzing in our ears. We would swat away the offending bug, roll over, and once again attempt to sleep, but it was useless. Before we had achieved a truly restful state, the mosquitoes would come calling again. Occasionally we would hear John toss and turn, or Peter murmer, "Stop that!" throughout the night.
Around 3am, Steven and I looked at each other and realized we were not going to get any sleep at all at this rate. We decided to take action and fight back against the insects that had been causing us so much misery. Steven shone the flashlight against the wall of the tent, and we began our attack. Everywhere we saw the little black skeeters, we would grab, clap, smash and crush them. When one wall was cleared of the nasty bloodsuckers, we moved to another wall and began the process all over again. After half an hour or so, Steven's hands were covered in blood, and there were bloody smears all over the walls of the tent as well.
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| Steven's hands after the battle |
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| The bloody walls of the tent |
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| One of Peter's hands... his face and legs looked about the same. |
Even today, most of us are still covered in painfully itchy spots, that don't seem to be healing. We have coated them with anti-itch cream to no avail. We have taken Benadryl... (I think that contributed to my sleeping so much the day we returned home.) We try not to scratch, but every time an article of clothing rubs against our arms or feet, we are reminded of the many bites' presence.
Why, oh why did God create mosquitoes???
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