Warning: a fairly gruesome image follows...
Despite having lived here for five years now, I've been fairly lucky in the whole: get bit by terrifying things part of things. I haven't, despite spending a lot of time in the woods and outdoors. You would think that, after spending years in Far North Queensland (hello sandflies!), SW Virginia would be a paradise of non-insect life but that's not the case. I live in a house that's almost 100 years old and used to be an undergrad residence before I moved in. There are cracks from which insects emerge, probably various crevices that the spider-cricket hybrid that exists in this part of the world lives in, and I've seen different types of scurrying creatures in the basement as I go to do my laundry.
Every time I return from a few weeks away, the house is filled with dead earwigs. I have no idea where they come from but they are everywhere. This summer, I found some in between pages of my books on the bookshelves.
All this is to say that insects are not rare in this part of the world. I've never been fond of insects--of any kind (is anyone?)--but we've kept a wary distance during my existence here. We seem to know the other exists and give each other a wide berth--helped by the fact that Dog tends to eat anything that moves. That changed a few days ago when I found my arms and hands covered with bites. They were extremely itchy and, after a few days, the skin around them died (? -- became hard and crusty). Right now, I'm at the stage where it looks as though part of my hand is about to fall off.
I have no idea what did this or how it happened but people's reactions have ranged from: What happened there?! to telling me of the many (many!) terrible things this could be: flesh-eating bacteria, chicken pox, wasps, burns...a nice lady at the grocery shop held my hand as she told me a story of how, in her day, no one swam in the rivers as it was "well known there are insects there that, when they bite, you can't move and that is it, sweetie".
The practice of strangers talking to you--a common habit in SW Virginia life in my experience--means I've also been told of many ways in which I can deal with this. So far, I'm going with the: let's put iodine on it and hope it goes away soon approach.
I'll write a bit about classes next time. For now, here's how my hand looks (arms are worse)
Despite having lived here for five years now, I've been fairly lucky in the whole: get bit by terrifying things part of things. I haven't, despite spending a lot of time in the woods and outdoors. You would think that, after spending years in Far North Queensland (hello sandflies!), SW Virginia would be a paradise of non-insect life but that's not the case. I live in a house that's almost 100 years old and used to be an undergrad residence before I moved in. There are cracks from which insects emerge, probably various crevices that the spider-cricket hybrid that exists in this part of the world lives in, and I've seen different types of scurrying creatures in the basement as I go to do my laundry.
Every time I return from a few weeks away, the house is filled with dead earwigs. I have no idea where they come from but they are everywhere. This summer, I found some in between pages of my books on the bookshelves.
All this is to say that insects are not rare in this part of the world. I've never been fond of insects--of any kind (is anyone?)--but we've kept a wary distance during my existence here. We seem to know the other exists and give each other a wide berth--helped by the fact that Dog tends to eat anything that moves. That changed a few days ago when I found my arms and hands covered with bites. They were extremely itchy and, after a few days, the skin around them died (? -- became hard and crusty). Right now, I'm at the stage where it looks as though part of my hand is about to fall off.
I have no idea what did this or how it happened but people's reactions have ranged from: What happened there?! to telling me of the many (many!) terrible things this could be: flesh-eating bacteria, chicken pox, wasps, burns...a nice lady at the grocery shop held my hand as she told me a story of how, in her day, no one swam in the rivers as it was "well known there are insects there that, when they bite, you can't move and that is it, sweetie".
The practice of strangers talking to you--a common habit in SW Virginia life in my experience--means I've also been told of many ways in which I can deal with this. So far, I'm going with the: let's put iodine on it and hope it goes away soon approach.
I'll write a bit about classes next time. For now, here's how my hand looks (arms are worse)
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