Month: April 2019

A Quiet Night – Day 159

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Photo: L. Weikel

A Quiet Night

I’m sitting here in my living room, the heavy wooden front door of our home swung wide, allowing the sounds of the night to drift in through the screen door. Rain was pouring some minutes ago, but has subsided for the moment. Now I only hear the rushing of the small creek across the road in front of our home that runs the length of our country road and ultimately feeds the Tohickon Creek.

The peepers continue to chirrup and groat, regardless of whether the rain pelts, pounds, or caresses. I wonder at that sometimes. Surely some of those heavy drops that sting us when they hit our skin must take a far worse toll on these little beasties. I would think they’d take cover.

But maybe they revel in the experience of storms.

Thunderstorms are the Best

I’m always up for a good thunderstorm. I love them. I remember sitting with my mother out on the front porch of our stone farmhouse, about half an hour north of here. We would watch most storms approach from the west, marching down the valley toward the Delaware River, from our right to our left. Mommy always said that storms would go down one side of the valley, run into the river, and come back up the other side. I never understood this meteorologically (and perhaps storms didn’t actually behave that way), but it always did seem as though we’d experience two rounds of thunder and lightning when a system would move through.

Listening to the rain pick up in intensity again, I’m reminded this be could urging the grass – especially the wild onion, which runs rampant throughout our lawn, to reach heights that will require us to ‘take measures’ to reduce it to a manageable length. We’re into dandelions, too, and whatever else actually wants to live in our lawn – except poison ivy! – such as a recent abundance of mosses making their way across our front yard.

I’ll probably write soon about the mosses that have begun proliferating in our lawn, taking over where the grass was growing thin. Moss is quite beautiful, especially if you let yourself get down on the ground and really look at it closely. It’s amazingly intricate! And so soft to walk on with your bare feet.

Have the Peepers Gone to Sleep?

It sounds like the wind is picking up now. I notice the peepers have stopped singing entirely – at least for the moment.

Wishing all of you a lovely evening (if anyone is awake and reading this) filled with peaceful dreams and deeply restful sleep. And if you’re reading this in the morning? Breathe deep and celebrate this holiday weekend. Passover, Easter, or simply the joy of springtime making its presence known to us again. Giving us hope for all life.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-952)

Full Moon and Invasive Species – Day 158

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Full Moon and Invasive Species

I took the photograph above as I walked out of a meeting this evening about the Spotted Lanternfly. It’s a cool photo, I think, because not only is the moon shining in all her glory, but a car was driving by at the time, its headlights illuminating a path (a choice?) facing all of us.

The moon is going to be full tonight (actually, 7:12 a.m., EDT tomorrow morning), and is obviously illuminating and bringing to fruition a number of items, both great and small.

There is the release of the (redacted version of) the Mueller Report, shedding a great deal of light on the intricacies of the conclusions reached by the Special Counsel after interviewing something like 500 witnesses and examining documents and other evidence over the course of the past 22 months.

I’m not one to routinely or voluntarily read 400+ page reports, but I’m actually considering reading this one for myself. Somehow or another, I feel like it is something I need to read and see with my own eyes in order to both believe and reach my own conclusions.

There’s so much at stake in what has been investigated, particularly with respect to the astonishingly effective and pervasive ways in which Russia interfered in our 2016 elections (although they apparently began their calculated efforts to influence discord in our system in 2014 or even earlier). This is incredibly serious and I’m almost wild-eyed with disbelief that we have not come together as a nation in absolute outrage at the idea that, basically, our country has been hacked by a foreign power.

I simply cannot fathom that this infiltration and manipulation of our country and its pride and joy, its claim to fame – our free and fair elections – is not uniting us.

To say I am dismayed and heartbroken barely covers it.

More Than One Invasive Species…

And speaking of invasive species (or countries), there is the Spotted Lanternfly, which apparently arrived in Pennsylvania in 2012 on some imported landscaping stones. Since it has no natural predators here in the U.S., it flourished and was first reported as a problem in Berks County, Pennsylvania, in 2014. Pretty much the entire area of Southeastern Pennsylvania is now under quarantine.

No matter where you live, you should check out what these critters look like so, if you see them, you can report it and get rid of it. We must protect each other by making sure they do not spread into any other counties or states. So those of us who live where we are under quarantine must educate ourselves and do what we can to prevent them from hitchhiking on us, our cars, our produce, etc., to other areas.

Right now, for instance, it is also important to notice egg casings and destroy them. The way these creatures practically inundate trees when they swarm is awful and disquieting.

So it seems this full moon is revealing the existence of invasive species of a couple different kinds.

The truth upon which we will succeed in ridding ourselves of both (or all) is working together.

(T-953)

Paths and Choices – Day 157

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Paths and Choices – Photo: S. Abbott

Paths and Choices

When we’re in our late teens and early twenties, even into our thirties, it’s easy to imagine that we need only set our sights on our intended destination and zzzzzip – if we’re dedicated and disciplined enough, we will head straight toward that goal.

A lot of us, I’m told, did just that. We ‘knew’ what we wanted and we went after it. Some of us barely stopped to breathe, even if we managed to find a person to love, and then decided to breed.

Breathe. Breed. We do it. We did it.

Some of us didn’t really and truly know what we wanted back then – but we knew we needed to do something.  So we picked a thing and did it. Set our sights ahead, put our heads down, and did the work to reach the goal.

It’s Cliché, Perhaps, But…

More times than we might like to admit, though, when we picked our heads up and saw where we’d actually plowed our way toward, we realized not only that the destination wasn’t anywhere near what the brochure had described but – wow – we’d missed a ton of scenery along the way.

I could get into some long dissertation on the paths we choose and the end of the road. How we feel about the choices we’ve made when we realize there are no longer an infinite number of choices available nor all that many decades left to explore those choices (if we’re lucky). But naaah. I’ll pass.

The Magic of Choice

The photo at the top of this post, from a tulip festival in Seattle earlier today, reflects to me the magic of choice that we’re faced with all the time. We can walk straight ahead, staying on the gravel path that’s been set there deliberately for us to follow, to make it easier, to make our choice abundantly clear – but which leads to what? A ‘concrete’ destination? Or where? A destination so predictable but impersonal that we need an ID card to swipe us through ‘security?’

Portal to the uncharted – Photo: S. Abbott

Or we can meander off, following the curving cobalt path that needs to be trod a bit more carefully (so as not to kill everything we step upon). And just where does the cobalt path lead? It’s a mystery. Perhaps there is no definitive destination, but the path simply intersects, over the horizon, with other colorful paths that lead to forests or mountains or sacred fires burning on lakeshores that connect us to forgotten sisterhoods.

 

Vista from beyond the portal – Photo: S. Abbott

That curvy cobalt path sure does look enticing to me.

(T-954)

Inspiration and Insight – Day 156

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Inspiration and Insight

This evening I spent just under two hours listening to Dr. Temple Grandin give a lecture as the keynote speaker at Northampton Community College. Dr. Grandin’s lecture was the culminating event in the college’s Humanities Department’s year long theme of “Humanities Best Friend: Dogs and the Human Saga,” which explored the interrelationship between animals and humans.

Given the Humanities Department’s focus this year, Dr. Grandin’s invitation to be keynote speaker was an obviously excellent choice. But considering that April is Autism Awareness Month, her presentation was even more meaningful and empowering to the audience.

I was moved to tears a handful of times throughout the evening.

It was pretty clear that most people in the audience are living with some form of autism in their lives – by having a family or other loved one ‘on the spectrum,’ by being on the spectrum themselves, or perhaps by being an educator.

The sheer pervasiveness of autism in our society makes me reflect back on my courses in psychology back in the late ‘70s when autism was rare and extraordinarily misunderstood. (I remember reading actual theories that blamed a ‘cold mother’ – distracted by her education or career, etc., as the reason for a child’s struggles). It makes me shudder.

Overcoming Odds is an Understatement

Dr. Grandin’s diagnosis was made when she was only four years old, back in 1951, when the standard of care at that time for someone presenting with her symptoms was institutionalization. To contemplate the loss to our society had her mother and a few other extremely influential people in her life not stood up for her and also challenged her to expect more from herself is stunning.

Not only has Dr. Grandin contributed remarkable insight and understanding to the world about autism in general, but directly as a result of her unique way of looking at the world, she has improved the quality of life for untold numbers of sentient beings on our planet.

The Impact She’s Had on Life is Astounding

Just think of that. By virtue of the unique way in which Temple Grandin perceives the world, and her compassionate insistence that humans who deal with animals listen to her, respect her perspective, and understand that animals have feelings and require respect and compassion, she has made life better for countless sentient beings past, present, and into the future.

What a tremendous life. What a valuable human being.

Just a Few Takeaways

The hope and inspiration Dr. Grandin inspired in everyone in attendance was palpable. Her responses to audience requests for tidbits of advice or reassurance were direct and to the point:

Keep it simple.

Don’t over-think it.

Pay attention to PERSPECTIVE.

Feed your children with experiences, with information, with context.

Build their knowledge base from the bottom up and simply keep repeating.

As much as possible, keep them from spending too much time staring at ‘screens.’

FIND DOORS to various experiences for them to go through – if they can’t walk through the front door to pursue a job or education they want or seek, encourage them to find another opening.

Dr. Grandin bestowed so many pieces of wise advice for all of us, all I can say is, my heart is full.

I may have to write more about the feelings I came away with from her lecture.

In the meantime, if you haven’t watched the movie about her life, which starred Claire Danes, I encourage you to check it out.

(T-955)

Poison Ivy, Already?!?!- Day 155

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Poison Ivy – Photo: ydr.com

Poison Ivy – Already?!?!

Ugh.

When I complained to Karl the other morning that I must’ve been bitten by something in bed (which, living in a roughly 175 year old house, does not take a stretch of the imagination to believe), he groaned sympathetically and asked to see the point of attack.

I pushed up the sleeve of my fluorescent orange fleece and showed him the pale inside of my left wrist. Two patches of red skin glared angrily up at me, for I’d been rubbing and half-scratching them for at least half an hour – probably longer if you count the time when I was half asleep and only gradually regaining consciousness, not even realizing I’d been futzing with the itchiness underneath my two bracelets. In fact, at first I’d thought I’d just slept wrong on the bracelets and the itching was just the flowing of blood back into what I assumed were dents in my skin from the bracelets being tight.

“You sure you think that’s a bite?” Karl asked, sounding completely skeptical of my assessment.

“Yeah. Why?” I asked defensively. “Look!” I said, thrusting my wrist in his direction again. “There’s one big raised bump there,” I pointed, “which definitely looks like a bite of some sort. And the other…well, the other little patch just looks, I don’t know…irritated.”

“Your sure it’s not poison?”

Willful Denial

A chill went through my veins. “It’s not poison,” I stated unequivocally. “I’d recognize the little bumps,” I added. Indeed, I’m so susceptible to poison ivy that I barely need to get near it to contract its near insanity-producing itching. And about three years ago, I’d contracted such a profound case of it that the poison ‘went systemic.’

I’d been miserable.

“Ok,” shrugged Karl. “It sort of looks like poison to me, though.”

I persisted in my denials for another day before finally succumbing to the truth that I am obviously sporting my first case of poison of the season – and it’s only April 15th.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten it before without having at least pulled a few good weeds. But no. Somehow I managed to get it in the middle of the night the other night. Without doing gardening. Without pulling weeds. Without even being outside at the time. I’d just slept a good night’s sleep – and awakened with poison on the inside of my wrist.

Early Ticks, Early Poison – Just Lovely

Sure hope this isn’t a harbinger of things to come: early ticks and early poison. Perhaps Mother Nature is just initiating me early this year.

All I know is, I’ve applied some goop to the inflammations and covered it all up with two bandaids for now because if there is one form of torture that makes me want to climb walls, it’s insistent, deep-seated, itching. And any of you out there who are also sensitive to poison (be it of the ivy, oak, or sumac variety) can relate to how that blistering of your skin type of itching can be maddening. As bad as mosquito bites are, poison takes it to the stratosphere.

In My Face – On My Wrist

Sorry to bitch, but there it is. I write what’s on my mind or, sometimes, in my face. Or in this case (luckily, I guess), on my wrist.

The only source I can imagine might be that I picked up some random piece of garbage in my trekking travels that had been sitting in or on, or brushed up against, some poison. (The oil of poison ivy is nasty stuff. Nuclear. Will live for practically forever.) And that errant piece of paper or strip of plastic or what-have-you probably merely flirted with touching my tender skin and >> BAM << I got poison.

Going to do my best tonight not to scratch it. The better I am at that, the quicker it’ll disappear.

I can do this.

(T-956)

Hovering Roots – Day 154

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Hovering Roots – Photo: L.Weikel

Hovering Roots

In my recent quests to go a bit off the beaten path lately, I’ve been walking on roads that I mostly only ever drive upon. Some roads surrounding my home are only in my awareness as intersections, since they are veritable ‘dead ends,’ therefore giving me no good reason to drive down them.

Today, though, I walked down one of these dead end roads and fell in love with the scenery. I know I’m going to be including this offshoot and walking it much more frequently, mostly because it is blissfully without traffic but also because it traces the route of a tributary to my beloved Tohickon.

The tributary, replete with massive stones piled on each other in such a way as to create terraced waterfalls, flows peacefully right into the Tohickon. But before it does, it burbles and trickles its way alongside the road, dodging massive trees and monkey vines, basking in small pools hosting hoards of peepers, and feeding life all along the way.

Mirror? Or Shelter?

The photo I’ve included tonight is one I took early this evening. The subject caught my eye and in some sense feels like it’s mirroring me. I was going to say ‘rootless,’ but that’s not quite accurate. I have roots, as does this tree. But somehow, in some way, the soil I’ve relied on to keep me grounded is nowhere to be found.

Will new soil arrive, carried downstream from fields further up? Or will I somehow need to find a way in which to seek new soil out?

Or the third option, I suppose, is to remain as is: roots hovering over the surface of the stream, nourished when the rains come, then holding space in the drier times, faithfully creating space for other lives to take refuge in when there’s nowhere else to hide.

(T-957)

No Days Off – Day 153

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Waxing Moon; Photo – L.Weikel

No Days Off

I was thinking about my 1111 Devotion project today as I was taking a sunset walk with Karl. I was grateful that there was enough time left in the day for us to walk, so I could at least get in two miles, our ‘usual’ walk with the dogs.

There’s a part of me that’s bummed that I only managed two miles today. And I find that fascinating – how much my perspective has changed in just the past two weeks. My original perspective, or at least the one I held most recently before the one I hold today, would have given myself internal high fives simply for walking at all today. Period.

But my recent walking expansion is a subject for another day, I think.

My thought today was wondering how I’m going to handle being away from my natural habitat. For instance, when I’m in North Carolina for Listening to Spirit, the workshop retreat I’ll be giving with Wendy Warner, M.D., on the benefits of conventional medical providers working in tandem with shamanic practitioners (LAST CALL to register!), will I have the wherewithal to post every evening?

I wonder.

I hope so.

Will ‘Canned’ Posts Suffice?

And then I thought, well, I could always write up a couple of ‘pinch-hitting’ posts ahead of time. You know, a couple of emergency posts I could keep ‘in the can,’ so to speak, for use when time gets away from me or I’m too exhausted to type my own name much less write a coherent sentence.

I’ve flirted with that idea before. So far, as you can tell if you’ve been sticking with me (and thank you if you have!), every post has been one that was written right before I hit <<send>>. Some have nearly been stream-of-consciousness. Some have actually been reflective. And some have been a bit random, I’ll admit.

But not a single one of them has been generic. Canned. Pre-writ. Yet.

When I’m in North Carolina (or, optimistically, in Peru or Siberia, or maybe Iceland or some as yet unnamed nations on a couple other continents I want to experience perhaps within the next three years), I’m going to be challenged.

I don’t think about it all that often, but I take for granted that I’ll have some quiet time late each night when I can sit with my little MacBook Air and peck out a post. But when I get with my tribe in person, when we’re talking late into the night about encounters we’ve had that day in this world or others, I may easily lose track of time.

What About the Wilderness?

I’m also starting to ponder what might happen if I go off on a retreat in the wilderness. And I mean literal wilderness. No laptop. No cellphone. No means of communicating with any of you.

The thought of that gives me pause.

I may bitch and moan to myself (and OK, to Karl sometimes) that it’s really hard to think of something to write about every single day. But after 152 days in a row (and that figure there just boggles my mind right out of the box), I’m seriously invested.

This Is Deep – and Getting Deeper

This 1111 Devotion is a commitment that grows deeper and more meaningful to me with each passing day, with each notch on the wall that says, “I showed up.” Because the rest of that sentence is, “I showed up and I did it for Karl.”

So I find pondering these two possible scenarios a bit anxiety producing; I feel my heart quicken a bit when I think about finding myself in a situation in which posting might be either extremely difficult or physically impossible.

I guess I’m still trying to figure out the value of this exercise, beyond it simply being my own personal dedication to my son.

I’m assuming my perspective will evolve. Out of necessity, eventually, I will probably need to compromise to an extent my current expectations of purity.

In the meantime, I’m going to continue to set and pursue my purist goals. Fresh thoughts each night. Even if they’re random.

(T-958)

Found Magic – Day 152

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Found Magic: Faerie House – Photo: L.Weikel

Found Magic

Karl left for appointments at the crack of dawn this morning, so we didn’t get a chance to have our coffee together and pick cards the way we usually do. Nevertheless, he did text me later in the morning to let me know what he’d chosen on his day.

Meanwhile, I knew it was supposed to rain later in the day, so I made a point of getting out earlier than I usually do to take a walk. Before I left, I chose a Medicine Card® for my day: I chose Raven with Mouse underneath.

Raven/Mouse

As I’ve had occasion to discuss a few times already, (here, here, and here) Raven is associated with the concept of Magic. I capitalize the ‘M’ in Magic in this context because it is different than your normal, hokus pokus, pull a rabbit out of a hat type of magic. It’s way bigger than that. Or sometimes much smaller.

I’ve had some pretty cool experiences this week, which, again, I’m digesting and contemplating how and when to share with all of you. It’s not that I’m hoarding my experiences. At least that’s not my intention. Rather, I’m holding them close to the vest, so to speak, until I’ve integrated them, making an effort not to dilute them by sharing them too quickly and thus not appreciating their ‘Magic.’

So when I got this combo of Raven/Mouse today, I thought it might be an indication that it’s time for me to start sharing some of the experiences I’ve had over the past several weeks.

Alas, that’s not how it’s playing out.

Not What I Expected

For when I was walking today, I came upon a setting that screamed, “MAGIC!” to me. So much so, in fact, that I had to stop and take a photo with my iPhone to share with you.

Take a look at the photo that’s accompanying this post and tell me I did not stumble upon some Magic right in the middle of regular life. This faerie house is completely and totally natural. It’s growing out of the bark on a tree that’s just growing tall beside the road.

And part of the Magic, in my mind at least, is that I actually saw it. Out of all the myriad sights and sounds and odors, from screeching hawks to trucks with confederate flags in their back window to cigarette butts, the occasional fast food container and a beer bottle or two, and a Boston Terrier named Spartacus excitedly marking his territory on all sorts of new logs and piles of leaves – I noticed this exquisite piece of faerie real estate.

It felt like a gift. Just look at the detail, the colors, the exquisite natural beauty.

Stuff I Didn’t Get Done vs. Magic

There were tasks I had set for myself to accomplish today that I did not manage to complete. And a couple of times, I started in on lamenting that I’d walked instead of doing those things first. But then I was reminded of two other amazing discoveries I’d made this week – both on Wednesday – and both of which I would have completely missed had I not walked precisely when I did that day. Not only were they amazing discoveries in and of themselves, but the township literally scraped the dirt road upon which I’d found both of them the very next day. So my timing had been perfect.

And that’s how I felt about my discovery of the faerie house earlier today. It was all about timing and paying attention (Mouse) and being open to the myriad little things in life that bring us joy and arouse our awareness of the Magic that surrounds all of us if we open our hearts and eyes and ears.

And if we simply give ourselves the chance to just be.

(T-959)

Random Thoughts – Day 151

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My Mood, due to frustration over not being able to get the photo at the end of this post to rotate to an upright position!
Photo: Green Renaissance

Random Thoughts

I’m feeling a little fuzzy or something.

No, fuzzy doesn’t accurately capture what I’m feeling, but at the moment I can’t come up with a better adjective.

Over the past several days, I’ve sent myself a handful of emails with links to articles I’d like to include in posts I’ve yet to write. It’s funny how that works. I’ll go weeks or even months without reading anything I’d think to share with you. And then there’s a spate of ten days or a couple of weeks when practically every other day there’s an article on something I was just thinking about or contemplating writing about.

But every time I’ve thought about taking one of those ideas and running with it lately, I’ve known in my heart that I would end up writing way too much. Believe it or not, I try to keep these posts short enough for you to get through with a cup of coffee. I realize I may have been long-winded lately. So…I’ll try to keep it short tonight.

The Allure and Distraction of Reading

I read a lot. Indeed, I think that’s the worst part about Facebook for me: all the links to articles from magazines and other sources that I never would have sought out before, but which I’m now so grateful to have access to: The New York Times (no, I wasn’t a regular reader – but now I’m a subscriber), The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, The Daily Beast, the New Yorker, etc.

So much to read, so little time. And that’s not even counting the three or four books I have laying about the house (beside my bed, beside the chairs I sit in most often, and at least one nestled in the woven bag I take with me whenever I leave the house).

Ugh, there’s nothing worse to contemplate than being stuck somewhere without anything to read! Of course, that’s almost difficult to do nowadays, what with the access our phones give us to everything. But that ‘fear’ of realizing I have a bunch of extra time (because I ran out of gas, or a client is late, or there’s a long line at the DMV) and have forgotten to bring something to read – is a terror that dies hard – and probably never will completely.

Being Prepared

I have to laugh. I head out for the grocery store and before I get in the car I inevitably have to gather up my journal, whatever book I’m reading that calls out to me to be included on the excursion (and I am astounded at myself by how I can vacillate on making a choice between my books), and sometimes my laptop (in case, you know, I’m suddenly overcome by a desire to work on the manuscript of my next book). In spite of this, I almost never (unless I stop beside the creek first – before venturing anywhere else) stop and allow myself some truly isolated ‘me’ time. Time in which I would actually have the opportunity to select from my traveling companions the book or writing repository that called to my soul in that moment.

I have to wonder about myself. Because nine times out of ten, I return home with a couple bags of groceries in the car and am then relegated to not only hauling the bags into the house but also schlepping in the woven bag with book, journal, and laptop stuffed into it. It’s as if I just took them for a ride.

So my fuzziness that I initially alluded to was a vague sense of dismay, I think, at having to choose which among the many topics I’ve been musing over to tackle tonight.

And so I chose none of the above.

I’m going to end this (mercifully for you) with a few quick thoughts.

A Tease About My Walking…and Then a Message

Since my birthday, I’ve been walking almost double what we used to walk – and sometimes far more than that – every day. I don’t know why. This activity-bordering-on-compulsion definitely deserves its own post. Perhaps even a couple of posts.

But today, as I was moving right along, I asked for some guidance. I pulled a card from my Crone deck that I’d never chosen before: The Emperor.

Without getting into it, and without even quoting you the deeply thought provoking text in the accompanying booklet, I will simply state that the card was all about setting up boundaries – and finding my power within that act. Creating order; claiming authority; establishing the world.

And then I encountered these clouds not five minutes after reading those words and contemplating the need to establish structure, discipline, and order to my world:

Ordered clouds… Photo: L. Weikel

(T-960)

Aaaarrrgghh! Tick Season Is Here – Day 150

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Aaaarrrgghh. Tick Season Is Here

This is not the subject I intended to write about tonight, but I find myself too distracted not to just share my thoughts and feelings.

You guessed it: I was sitting here on the couch after eating dinner tonight when I noticed a tickle on my neck. After quickly checking to make sure Karl was safely ensconced on the other couch, and not making wayward advances (ha), I put my fingers gently up to my neck to carefully pluck whatever was crawling there off my neck and bring it into the light.

I assure you, I let out a loud and plaintive moan. Hoping fruitlessly that maybe it was an ant, or a moth, or just one of those odd little black beetle-like bugs that can sometimes get caught flying ‘into’ you and then crawling ‘on’ you (but which are usually more common in the summer, honestly), my heart sank just feeling its unmistakable tick body and the way their legs just keep moving, moving, moving.

UGH.

This one turned out to be your everyday dog tick, not a deer tick. But those damn deer ticks are so incredibly small, they’re nearly impossible to detect unless you have premier, top-of-the-line heightened skin sensitivity. Which, for the most part, I think I have (at least for those things that cause a crawling sensation). Again,  <<shudder>>.

Evolving My Consciousness

I’ve tried to curb my prejudiced feelings about certain types of creatures, and for the most part, I’d like to think I’ve come a long way for someone whose dad would go after snakes with a spade to ‘cut off their head.’ (I was just thinking about that yesterday and how horrific and unnecessary that knee-jerk reaction was.) My musing was brought on by our discovery of a snake on our walk that had been hit by a car. It had only recently happened, as it was not a ‘zen’ snake (i.e., ‘one with the road’). It was still very flexible and lifelike, so I picked it up and moved it to the side of the road, curled it up, and offered it a couple strands of my hair as an offering for its life.

So, yeah. I’ve evolved significantly when it comes to snakes.

Ticks Are the Ultimate Challenge

But ticks? I cannot paint a squinty, sour, distasteful look more clearly than to simply say I loathe them.

Not only do I loathe the fact that all they do is bite and suck your (or your beloved pets’) blood, but I also abhor them for the diseases they carry. Both Karl and my youngest son, Sage, have contracted Lyme as a result of these vile arachnids. So, too, have both our Boston Terriers. And the toll taken on both humans was exponentially worse than that suffered by our pups – probably because I caught it in my dogs almost immediately upon onset of symptoms. My guys? Not so easily diagnosed.

It is difficult for me to comprehend the grand ‘point’ of ticks. They are parasites – in the worse sense of the word. I suppose there’s a good chance I’m being short-sighted. Or just ignorant. Maybe they exist to provide delicious meals to chickens and opossums, both of which enjoy eating them immensely. But surely they could subsist on grubs or other delicacies?

The Diseases They Carry Make Me Want to Invest in a Flamethrower

But for me, after seeing my husband act like he was having a seizure and suddenly become so sick that he could not stand up, and my son lose an entire season of track (twice – a couple years apart) and be knocked flat and nearly convulse when his blood was drawn, I draw the line.

Not Your Father’s Ticks

The dogs are the biggest culprits in bringing them into the house or getting them on us, and that’s true in spite of how careful we are about not letting them venture into the weeds. Ticks in recent years have become insanely adept at hitching rides home. It is as if the ticks quite literally jump from the grasses lining our country roads onto our dogs.

If Spartacus goes over to the side of the road to mark his territory in the springtime, I can immediately pull him close and pick off two, three, six, seven ticks off him. Just from veering toward the grasses! These devil beasts are hard to see on the pups’ dark coats. But I cannot imagine how awful it must be for people whose dogs have long coats. Oh man. Just the thought grosses me out.

I am making a visit to our veterinarian tomorrow and investing in those collars that came out about two years ago.  I think they’re called Seresto? We tried everything to keep the ticks off the dogs, to no avail. Every natural, non-chemical, non-toxic remedy or prophylactic we could try. But nothing worked. So, while reluctant, I am going nuclear.

I feel bad putting those chemicals into our dogs (and Cletus – the one cat who insists on going outside). But I cannot abide the risk of Lyme or the associated co-infections that can be spread through ticks.

I’m bummed. But with all the recent warm weather we’ve enjoyed, I knew the day of reckoning was at hand.

Be ware.

(T-961)