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My country grandmother had a sure foil against blackflies for us three grandchildren romping through the fields and woods of East Alstead, New Hampshire. Grandma would slather us with baby oil. Everywhere!
We were the greasiest kids around — hair in spikes and as slippery as eels but never bit by a blackfly! We would traipse home at the end of our day abroad to an immediate bath, our skin just peppered with mired, dead bugs.
I never knew anything but this method. A bit of wisdom from a wise grandmother.
Kate Tuck
Bangor
