Sandy Supposes....

June 3rd National Repeat Day

         Today is June 3rd. Lately, I've been feeling a bit deja-vu'ish. It's as if I've been here experiencing similar stuff before. I cannot shake this sense of familiarity. I know this date and it knows me.

         Wait a minute! It's June 3rd, two days post my birthday. Of course, I feel deja-vu. Every year, I reflect on another three-hundred and sixty-five days that join the other accumulated time and pronounce me another year older. They're quite gleeful the wee buggers, dancing around and clapping their hands. I swear several even high five each other and slap themselves on the back. They seem proud of their accomplishment. They've accompanied me into the future and they've been dogging me for a considerable time.

         Okay, Okay, I'll admit to 'seeing' this date before, many befores. A June 3rd is nothing new. The weather is most often a repeat of the past with fixed predictable variables. It'll either rain, the sun will shine smartly, or the sun will blaze away during a cloudburst.

         Today is National Repeat Day and that explains so much. Every June 3rd is recycled, repeated. Here we go again. Sunrise, sunset, day after day. I'm officially another year plus two days older.

         Sigh, grumble, moan, and scratch. In the spirit of repetition and familiarity, the ravenous blackflies and mosquitos have returned to pillage and plunder. Earlier in May, they were thwarted by blizzards and a Covid-19 self-isolation that kept potential victims safely indoors out of reach. Now, with more appealing temperatures, and a lessening of restrictions, Canadians are streaming outdoors with exposed, succulent skin. This is something we do each non-winter. We sacrifice ourselves. We express hope that for once the buggers have forgotten us. We've willfully buried our memories of past skirmishes. That first unmistakable, irritating, itchy welt opens the floodgates of memory and we mutter, "Here we go again." Or is it more of a shriek? "Not again!"

          I wonder if the blackflies and mosquitos circle a date on a calendar? All through the interminable freezing winter they shiver and count down the days to Feeding Frenzy whatever, 2020. Do they watch the weather channel for updates? Do they plan their infiltration? Do they plot and scheme the inevitable invasion? Do they pass the time getting in tip-top shape? Do they heft tiny weights in an attempt to buff up and impress other bugs of a similar persuasion? Do they pour over flow charts and graphs predicting their next yields?

         In their production meetings they probably discuss their modus operandi and decide if it ain't broke don't fix it. Our spring attacks are always guaranteed to be a success. It's a program with real teeth. Our tried and true formula: swarm, bite, repeat.

         I'm sorry, ranting and raving about annoying insects is a habit. It's a Canadian reflex repeated over and over to anyone unfortunate enough to listen. What better day to complain than National Repeat Day. Did I mention I celebrated my birthday recently? If so, I apologize. With my advancing age, my story repertoire is dwindling and my recall is selective. I really must commit a few words about the marauding buggers, eh?