Lately, the droves of mosquitos are becoming quite gregarious creatures at Bieslookgaarde 2. At night they buzz around your head endlessly, and just when you are about to fall into a deep comfortable sleep, you are rudely awakened by yet another jab in the skin: an exposed finger tip, ear lobe, or big toe hanging out of the bed covers. What bothersome creatures, mechanical organisms whose only purpose in life is to search out and feed on your blood. During the day they like to hide in dark corners, inside closets, behind the bed, wherever. I have the feeling that these so-called creatures of nature are becoming more intelligent lately. Perhaps due to an accelerated form of evolution. I remember the good old days when a simple swipe aimed carefully was enough to finish off this menace. Now they hide and congregate, waiting patiently for the right moment to pounce, planning and conniving. A swipe in the general direction is no longer sufficient. They fly with determination, avoiding the giant hand coming down (often at the last possible moment, purposely to ridicule and taunt you), rarely hit except at exactly the wrong, unexpected moment, coincidence. What is a human like me to do?