Nope, I haven't disappeared. Farm life (and real life) has been crazy busy the last month. Between harvesting, grinding, drying, blending and finishing the farm store, I've been exhausted. And not awake enough at night to blog. But we've had a couple "adventures" that I had to share - and I didn't want Carol D. in Newark to suffer too much from withdrawal of Fangboner blog posts!
A couple of weeks ago, we were in bed and Roland was dozing off as I was reading. He suddenly sat up and said he felt something itchy on his shoulder and could I look at it. He pulled his t-shirt up and I could see something like a scab on his shoulder blade. I kind of poked at it with my fingernail and leaned way in - I'm incredibly blind even with my glasses on for close-up things - and saw little legs move.
Yup, a tick.
I thought I was incredibly brave and didn't hyperventilate. I jumped out of bed and told him to come into the bathroom so I could see it. Then I got my laptop. I've never had to remove a tick - my skins crawls even saying the word - and had visions of not getting the head out and his shoulder blown up with a baseball sized blood engorged tick/monster. So I did what any tech savy, internet addicted person would do - I Googled it.
Have you ever looked at a tick close up? Don't. Just trust me on this one. Your life won't ever be the same - and not in a good way.
So I got a cup, put a bunch of rubbing alcohol it, put my big girl panties on - as well as latex gloves - and grabbed the tweezers. I took a deep breath, said a few choice words under my breath, and grabbed the tick with the tweezers and pulled. It came out and I threw it in the cup of alcohol saying "die you bastard die!".
He didn't. That sucker - literally - kept moving around for minutes until I took him outside so I didn't have to see him anymore. I put about a quart of peroxide on Roland's shoulder and about an inch thick of Neosporin. We went back to bed - to where I proceeded to wake up hourly convinced I had a tick on me and had to run to the bathroom to check.
I eventually calmed down and went back to my pre-tick-removal-panic state of life. I ordered a tick remover called "Ticked Off" so I was prepared for our next emergency. Then last Friday night Reuben and Tucker, my sister Carol's dog, decided to have an adventure. I was chasing through long grass in shorts trying to catch up with them. When we got them back and I came inside to take a shower, I felt kind of itchy all over. I was in the shower scrubbing my legs when I felt something on my shin. I leaned down, and could feel it but couldn't really see it. I pushed at it and it wouldn't move. Then I knew.
I screamed for Roland to get in there now. And then screamed again. He came running in, expecting the shower scene from "Psycho." I was sticking my leg out of the shower, yelling for him to get it out of my leg. Roland calmly walked over, got the tweezers, and pulled it out. Then went back to bed.
I repeated the peroxide/Neosporin routine. And the waking up hourly to see if I had Lyme Disease.
So now I am wearing jeans, socks, shoes and long sleeves whenever I'm working outside. And have my handy Ticked Off device in case we need it. And am stocked up on peroxide and Neosporin.
I hate bugs.