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The first of two posts about everyone's favorite insect. Here's the second.

Long before the dawn of man, the mosquito was around, anxious to make a meal of him. In the 21st century, we have many years of scientific research providing us with a variety of complex chemical sprays and lotions to keep the pests away.

Alas, these modern products have only been available relatively recently. Early cultures had to 'make do', as we say here in the South, with other methods.

STRONGLY recommend reading this article about the Karankawas at the Texas State Historical Association website https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/bmk05

One of the first mosquito repellent methods consisted of smearing something on the skin. Early peoples didn’t know that only the female mosquito feeds on blood, or that she is attracted by a combination of aroma and temperature. All they knew was that the little buggers had an annoying, itchy bite. Therefore, if one could come up with something that would keep the mosquitoes off their skin, the battle was won. No one can know for certain how they decided on what to use, but it does make sense that they settled on something that smelled absolutely awful. After all, if it repelled their fellow humans, wouldn’t it work the same way on mosquitoes?

Journals of early European explorers in America relate the use of rancid bear grease, alligator grease, and even shark oil. The grease was simple to find – it was the layer of fat just below the skin of animals killed in a hunt or perhaps found already dead. The shark oil comes from the shark’s liver. The natives smeared the grease or oil, sometimes combined with dirt, over all exposed skin. As they often went with very little clothing, this meant they were usually covered head to toe with the smelly mixture.

Primitive cultures also figured out that if they built smoky fires, this seemed to keep mosquitoes away. Some cultures preferred a certain type of tree, such as black mangrove. Others were not so picky – any green wood was acceptable. The secret was to get the wood smoking while not allowing it to achieve a full burn. During the summer months when mosquitoes were in full force, much time and effort was spent collecting wood specifically meant to keep mosquitoes at bay. It is difficult to say which was more unbearable – being covered with dirt and animal fat, or withstanding the heat of a smoky fire in the middle of summer, complete with stinging eyes and choking breath. Clearly mankind was willing to do almost anything to keep the mosquitoes away.

This effect is easily achieved by forgetting to open the damper in your indoor fireplace. NOT recommended.

Less offensive methods evolved with the passage of time. Early peoples were very knowledgeable about the properties of the plants growing nearby. They soon discovered that plants with pungent or strong smells seemed to be effective against mosquitoes.  Many of these plants are still used today for the same purpose. One of the most familiar to modern culture is citronella. Lavender, eucalyptus, and garlic are just a few of the plants that have some effect on keeping mosquitoes away. Before glass windows or wire screens were commonplace, people often constructed window boxes in order to grow some of these fragrant plants just below the window in the hopes of steering the mosquitoes away. Even today, in many countries where mesh screening is not widely available, window boxes still serve this purpose. These plant remedies have never been quite as effective as smoky fires or animal fat, but they are certainly more pleasant.

Modern man is still battling with the mosquito. We are still very interested in keeping those hungry females from biting us, no matter how unpleasant the solution. But the next time you complain about applying one of those high-tech creams, lotions or sprays, just remember – it could be worse. It could be alligator grease.

  • “gallinipper” is another word for mosquito.

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Spring in Minnesota is much anticipated for obvious reasons. Lawnmowers and fertilizer spreaders replace of snow shovels. Migrating birds return to their favorite backyard feeders. And if you are really lucky, on a warm sunny day, you can witness the emergence of the snakes. Yep, any day where the temperature is 50°F or more, watch your step. See that black caulk between the lines in your sidewalk? That's a snake. How about that broken branch lying in your garden mulch? Nope, snake. The kids left a flat bike tube out in the yard? Guess again. That's the way it is at my house, anyway.

Little did we realize our new home was aka Snake Mecca

I’m originally from Texas, where rattlesnake hunts are as common as ticks on a whitetail. But I had never seen so many snakes in close proximity to human habitation until we moved to Minnesota. They're  'completely harmless', according to my neighbors. Maybe so, but they are as deadly as a pit viper if you are likely, as I am, to have The Big One and keel over every time you see one. Our first spring here, one of our legless friends made himself comfortable in the flower beds near our front porch. We would see him occasionally, basking himself in the spring sun. He was always more or less in the same spot, and pretty shy, so we got used to him and he to us. This is good, I thought. I can handle this.

Until some of his pals started turning up in unexpected places. One afternoon my teenager was mowing the lawn. I heard the mower stop, then the screen door slammed. "Mom,” she called upstairs,  “there's a snake."

Ordinarily I would say, “That’s nice, dear,” and wait until my husband came home to deal with the little fellow. But it was one of those gorgeous Minnesota days and I was feeling up to the challenge.  Most of the lawn was shorn down to fairway level, except for a small rectangle in the center. The culprit held his ground there.

"Just make lots of noise," I said, recalling various programs I had seen on the Animal Planet channel. "They will feel the noise vibrations in the ground and clear out." Folks, I am here to tell you that this is an out-and-out lie. We made all the noise we could think of, not to mention the high decibel roar of the Briggs and Stratton mower motor. No effect. On to Plan B.

"Get a rake," I instructed. "We'll shoo him away.” Let's just say the rake was not a big hit with our friend. Who knew that a 'harmless' snake could rear up and hiss like a King cobra? I dropped the rake and Plan B.

What now? Aha! My neighbor's teenage son was shooting hoops in his driveway. In my shameless cowardice, I called, "Hey, Kyle! Can you help me get rid of this snake?" Now, Kyle is a brave young man. Snakes fear him. At least, I hoped they did. I proposed that he use the rake and my five gallon plastic bucket to relocate our slithering nemesis to a friendlier locale. By now, my younger son and his friend had heard the commotion and joined the fray. The flesh crawling on the back of my neck became unbearable, and I retreated to the safety of the indoors, barricading myself inside. That I had left my precious children and their friends outside to battle the beast mattered not.

Did I mention that I hate snakes?

Eventually my son came in to report success. We exchanged high-fives and my daughter was able to resume mowing. Of course that wasn’t the end of the snakes, not by a long shot. I wonder if the ones I see now are new snakes, or relocated snakes returning to their version of San Juan Capistrano (my front yard). I think I am going to have to come up with another plan. I am up to C now. I sure hope I don’t have to work my way to Z.

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