It is hard to (scratch, scratch) blog when you (roll down
the sock and scratch) can't stop scratching.
The glorious early Autumn weather has been tempting
Kent, Princess Daughter, and me into meandering through
the woods. It's been (scraaaaatch) great!
Except for yesterday. We wandered deeper into the
deep, dark forest and sometime during that wandering
I must have (scritch, scratch) spent some time in the
nest of some seed ticks or chiggers; it doesn't really
which it was, they both deliver the same outcome-severe
case of itching.
Maybe it happened while I was standing looking back over a
long-grown-up field that was covered in red bushes which
stood out against the still-mostly-green trees. The sky
was filled with roiling clouds of dark and light grey. The view
was stunning.
Was it worth the itching? I dare to think so. The itching will
end...the memory will last.
5 comments:
You poor thing! I was just reading a story about Rose, Laura Ingalls Wilder's daughter (written by Rose's adoptive grandson) and it was mentioning the family's move and how they couldn't figure out why there were all itching so bad! A local told them it was chiggers.
Hope you stop itching soon!
Ahh, now you know how I feel when I come to your house in the spring! ;)
Chiggers beat Poison Ivy. I can get away with scratching chiggers.
Steve, Oh I know....Poor Ruth!
Not just poor Ruth...poor me. I contracted that terrible stuff from her. She has better "don't scratch" discipline that I.
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