Then there's the ticks. The pea-sized one that bloat up to marble-sized that you find on your legs and back after walking through our lovely Maine fields. Then there's the pinhead ones, the Lymn disease deer ticks that you really don't want to have nibbling you.

My father was a great protector of our salt water marsh mosquitoes. He reasoned that they were a major food supply for birds and fish and we should just get used to them rather than killing them and everything else by aerial spraying. You know, he had a point, and millions of tiny friends.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble