Do those bites and leg scratches belong to you? Er...

Unfortunately, the answer to the question; 'do those bites and leg scratches belong to you?', is disappointingly a yes- yes they do.

Whilst this gloriously sunny weather has been bringing out the best in people, it seems to have brought the worst out in the bugs of the world.

Bugs... Bugs... what a peculiar animal. Here, I address this portion of my blog to the King of the Bugs and his subjects. If you are a bug, please tell me: what is your purpose in life? Other than to inflict misery upon the human and animal populations, what is it that you do? I mean, do you have a daily bite quota to maintain? More to the point, am I one of your chief targets? You see me- Mildred, on the horizon and automatically home in. Is that right? Because it seems to me that yes, that is correct.

Last week, I went for a walk with Dave (which, in case you were wondering- was rather good fun). When we got home, I did some work and then proceeded to have a delicious dinner: so far so good. I felt fine. It wasn't until the next morning that I noticed something amiss. I spent the morning throwing-up (which, in case you were wondering- was not nice) and encountering a rather varied array of different symptoms. I'll spare you the details, but trust me when I say it wasn't pleasant.

It was the morning after this walk that I first noticed precisely nine big, red angry bites up my right leg. Bear in mind- my leg's are like the same shade as what Snow White's must have been... seriously pale! So it looked even worse. I was given some medicine and now- nearly ten days later they are just starting to fade.

So King Bug, thank you for momentarily ruining my right leg, as well as my morning. How kind of you to use me as a restaurant. I can only hope that we don't meet again.

Earlier this week I went on another walk. Foolishly, I was wearing shorts when somehow- I managed to get tangled up in a huge bramble that left me with (no exaggeration), about twenty-five scratches up the back of my left leg. I then had to extract a load of thorns which had decided to make the transfer from the dry, miserable thorny bush to my moisturised white pins. Why thank you hedge.

Don't they say that all things come in threes? I sincerely hope that that is wrong as I think that I've had my fill of leg trauma for the next few months. Beware, of the bugs and the hedges... that is the advice that I am extending to you today... beware!

Before I go, I'm going to end this blog with a farewell.

So long King Bugsalot and your thorny friend... may we never have the privilege to meet again.

Mildred