Ida Clare, Swat that Thang

Glamping

Dear Creative Chicks,

Ok, ok, I know I’m supposed to write something uplifting and positive but that’s never stopped me before.
   
Last week, I wrote about the recent trend of Glamping.  For those unfortunate few who don’t know what I mean and weren’t privy to last weeks post, it is where you pretend you are in a Ralph Lauren commercial out in the woods.  What I mean is that it is upscale glamorous camping outdoors jampacked with denial that what usually goes with camping won’t buzz, bite, sting, thunder, leak, blow or rain onto all that glamour.

Glamping

Do you remember those Tarzan movies where the rich industrialist would go on safari and there would be countless natives to pitch the tent, build the fires, cook the food and face the angry lion with only a spear and prayer?  Well Bwanna, that’s what glamping looks like except for the pith helmet and the natives and maybe the lion, if you’re lucky.

What I want to complain about, because I went on my version of glamping last week and no one told the damn mosquitoes that I was there for relaxation and meditation not herky-jerky slapping, stamping and swatting.  I haven’t exercised that much since I was running from the law.

My glamping goal

We’ve had a dry summer like a lot of places and we were blessed with a good rain last week, for which I am truly grateful.  It’s looking less like yard plague and more like yard around here but evidently the love-bug infestation wasn’t burden enough to bear.  No, we now have enough mosquitoes to give every creature with blood flowing in their veins a reason to run for cover. 

I guess they are here for Halloween; the bloodsuckers. 

Here’s a little tip: If you are camping or glamping or just going to the mailbox, you might want to carry your glamorous fly swat or find someone with a spear.
 
Hugs,