Bury Me With My Tractor

MOSQUITOES During the Fall a few years ago, my nephew asked me about mowing the field where he had raised watermelons. The watermelons were long gone but the grass and weeds were thriving. I had mounted my rotary mower on the tractor and headed down the highway to the field. After driving the quarter mile or so, I paused for a moment at the end of the first row in an attempt to size up the task and determine my plan of attack. Here in North Carolina where we live had finally emerged from several weeks of rain, thunderstorms, and even a devastating hurricane. We had not had any rain for three days and things were finally beginning to dry out. I shifted the mower to the "ON" position and eased it down slowly into the three foot high vegetation. Immediately a black swarm rose from the weeds and grass and began to violently attack my tractor and me. At first I didn’t know what to think. Locust came to mind, then humming birds. I also considered a plague of bats. When one of the beast made a power dive into my right arm, I could clearly see what it was. Mosquitoes! I beat one or two off me and quickly put the tractor in gear. I was hoping that they would not chase or attack moving machinery. Boy, was I ever wrong. My life flashed before my eyes. Visibility began to sharply diminish. The swarm was getting thicker. I imagined my nephew finding me as a skeleton sitting on the tractor going in circles in the field. I began to pray that the diesel smoke and fumes would be a deterrent to their intentions. However, I think they like carbon monoxide. I sensed anticipating lips smacking as the circle of horror tightened around me. I looked down toward my feet were two or three of them were attempting to drill through the toe of my steel toed boot. I could feel them as they lit on my right hand like Harrier jets landing on the deck of an aircraft carrier. At the sight of that I knew that if I did not act quickly, my hand would be stripped to the bone. Desperately I snatched the hat from my head with my left hand and began to beat, flap and wave frantically. I knew that if I were to survive this ordeal, I had to forget about this job for now and head for the highway. There were mosquitoes on the right, on the left, behind and in front of me. I felt that their intentions were to drag me from the tractor, sling me down in the waist high grass and have their way with me. With all my body fluids sucked out, when located, my body would look incredibly mummified. I looked down the row. Through the hoard of flying death I could barely make out my nephew at the end of the field with a lit torch and what appeared to be an aerosol can. He was wrapped in cheese cloth and plastic. I zoomed pass him before I knew it. I quickly stopped, put the tractor in reverse and slammed on the brake as we met each other. He tossed me the aerosol can, jumped up on the tractor and began waving the torch while I sprayed myself with the mosquito repellent. As he waved the torch through the swarm, I could hear the sound of insects frying in mid air. It sounded very similar to the sound of insects striking one of those electric bug zappers only much louder. I knew my wife would not believe my story so I duct taped a couple of those suckers to my tractor’s hydraulic arm and brought them home to her. I did not finish mowing that day, but I plan to return when there are no mosquitoes.