By the way, if most of the flies die in winter, where do all the live ones come from that spring to life in hordes 10 minutes after the woodstove is fired up in the old fishing camp in mid-January?

You drive up in the sled, jump off and unlock the door, throw some kindling in the stove an light it, and before you've got your skidoo suit off, there's a hundred of the big blue-assed bastards buzzing against the window.

Even though you sprayed the place with RAID before you left last time...