Lockdown Day 40: Lord of the Flies / Encierro Día 40: El Señor de las Moscas

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

I’M HAVING PROBLEMS WITH PHOTOSHOP this morning. It crashes when I try to reduce the size of a photo. So, before, I shut down my computer and try to get everything back to normal, I thought I’d quickly share a photo from long ago — and far away.

It was during a 1980s greenhead fly season — or was it black fly season — at a beach with dear friends who lived in Scituate, Massachusetts (about 20 miles/32 km south southeast of Boston, or about a 2-1/2-hour drive from where we lived at the time in Guilford, Connecticut). Whichever flies they were, they were vicious. Their bites were so horrible, they actually left divots in your skin. Many people avoided the beach during these annual invasions. Unlike the bites of mosquitoes, however, I don’t remember these itching afterwards. They simply made you cry out in pain every time one bit you. Being on the beach without insect repellant was torture. So, we sprayed. Here I am covering San Geraldo’s ass. Speedos were going through one of their cool phases at the time. The sunrise photo at top was taken last Wednesday.

.

TENGO PROBLEMAS CON PHOTOSHOP ESTA mañana. Se bloquea cuando intento reducir el tamaño de una foto. Entonces, antes de apagar mi computadora e intentar que todo volviera a la normalidad, pensé en compartir rápidamente una foto de hace mucho tiempo, y muy lejos.

Fue durante una temporada de moscas greenhead de la década de 1980, o fue una temporada de moscas negras, en una playa con buenos amigos que vivían en Scituate, Massachusetts (a unos 32 km al sur sureste de Boston, o alrededor de un viaje de 2 1/2 horas de donde vivíamos en ese momento en Guilford, Connecticut). Cualesquiera que fueran las moscas, eran viciosas. Sus mordeduras fueron tan horribles que en realidad dejaron marcas en tu piel. Muchas personas evitaron la playa durante estas invasiones anuales. Sin embargo, a diferencia de las picaduras de mosquitos, no recuerdo estos picor después. Simplemente te hicieron llorar de dolor cada vez que te mordía. Estar en la playa sin repelente de insectos fue una tortura. Entonces, rociamos. Aquí estoy cubriendo el trasero de San Geraldo. Speedos estaba pasando por una de sus fases geniales en ese momento. La foto del amanecer en la parte superior fue tomada el miércoles pasado.

Karma, It’ll Bite You In The Ass

So, I was sitting on the toilet Friday morning. Yes, that really is how this story begins.

So, I was sitting on the toilet and Dudo decided, as always, it was a perfect opportunity for us to spend some time together. First, he forcefully pushed the door open with his front paws. He checked to make sure I wasn’t getting into the shower and then ran for a toy. (The usual routine.)

I threw the toy. He fetched it. I threw it again. He fetched it again. The third time, he returned with a long knotted-up string. We had a tug-of-war. I threw it. He fetched it. He tired of that and then raised up on his hind legs to head-butt my thigh. I took the hint and stroked and petted him. He clearly wanted to hop up on my lap. That was not about to happen.

I stopped responding to his head butts, assuming he’d leave me in peace.

Then I yelped.

DUDO, OUR LITTLE ANGEL.
(CLICK FOR THE BIGGER PICTURE.)

Annoyed by my lack of attention, Dudo bit me on the ass! Well, more precisely, he gave me a love bite (with his sharp little teeth) on the upper thigh.

The message: “Don’t ignore me, goddammit!”

I of course gave him a stern lecture. He apologised.

Show me your teeth…