My dears, my brain is zapped from editing, and I’m not quite finished. (Soon. Very soon!) Editing should be a perfectly safe job, right? And guess what happened? I was bitten by the first tick of the season. It was one of the very tiny ones–a deer tick. I suspect it was brought inside by the dogs. We must live on a very ancient deer path, or else we’re on some kind of deer sightseeing tour. “This way, please. See those humans down the hill? Fling all your ticks at them. And their dogs. They love it!” You may not know this, but I’m a genuine tick magnet. I was going to write about it, but I remembered that I already had. Here are my thoughts from an earlier blog:
I was all set to write at length about my latest dorky obsession, The Duchess of Duke Street, which originally aired in the 1970s on Masterpiece Theater. Unlike P’s family, my family never watched Masterpiece Theater on PBS. I was always vaguely suspicious of Public Television because I thought it was just for the American upper class. I did know about Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and Austin City Limits. (When I was thirteen, I tried to run away from home to Dallas. I imagined that–while I was there–I would get to see Austin City Limits in person. Geography was never my strong suit.) But Masterpiece Theater was always obscure and intimidating to me. Must have been all the British Accents on Upstairs, Downstairs.
Over the past two weeks, I watched the first fifteen episodes of The Duchess of Duke Street on Netflix streaming (awesome, btw!). It follows the fictional adventures of Louisa Trotter (Gemma Jones), a common Englishwoman of the early twentieth century who decides to become “the best cook in England” and ends up owning and running a fancy hotel. (I know, you’re probably yawning by now. Told you it was dorky–but I found it well done and very moving.) Now I must track down the other sixteen episodes so I can finish it. Though I fear that I know the way it all ends because I read this. Darn it.
Anyway, I won’t tell you more because my attention has been firmly diverted by ticks. Ugh.
On Saturday, I made the huge mistake of sitting down in our woods to ponder life and gaze upon our puddle/pond. I found a most attractive log and was quite comfy for at least an hour. When I returned to the front porch, refreshed, I discovered no fewer than three busy ticks crawling on my clothes!
(Love it when the pond is clear enough to reflect the clouds.)
I had always thought that our veterinarian was just trying to make an extra buck by telling us we need to use flea and tick meds on our dogs all year ’round here in Southern Illinois. But here it is mid April and we’re already covered up in them. Of course, now I realize that the log I was sitting on rests square in the middle of a deer path, quite close to the mouth of the pond where the deer can cross the creek. I was probably sitting ON a tick hive. (If ticks have hives–which I expect they don’t. But the image seems appropriate.)
Sunday morning, Bengal discovered a tick in his ear while we were in church. That was fun. I confess that I lied and said I wasn’t sure what it was–until I got him into the bathroom with the door firmly closed so no one could hear him freak out about it. Plus, I’ve found two more ticks snugly burrowed on my own extremities in the past two days. I’m beyond freaked out and disgusted.
Ticks look as though they’ve been around forever, don’t they? I found lots of sites that wanted me to pay to find out exactly how long they’ve been around. But finally this link says that they’ve been around since the Cretaceous Period, between 65 and 146 million years ago. That’s a heck of a lot of years on the side of the grisly little things. I expect only cockroaches have been around longer.
(This is like a still from a horror film!)
This guy has a picture of a 25 million year-old one in amber. (It’s an anti-Darwin site that I don’t really get–but the pic is useful)
Here’s a nasty but well-documented and organized selection of ticks from around the world.
I haven’t yet figured out what purpose ticks might serve except to spread disease–and disgust. I feel a stronger revulsion when I see a tick than I do when I see a spider. Though I can’t ever remember seeing a spider crawling on my skin. At least spiders have the decency to be shy.
(Just so you know, this is not me. Ouch.)
Tick bites can be painful, and ticks can be hard to remove. This site totally disavows the match method, which I use regularly. (i.e. light a match, let it burn for a moment, blow it out, then press the hot match head directly to the tick so it recoils from the skin) I confess that my constant shrieking as I dispatched one that way today meant that my hand wasn’t very steady. And I was so panicked, I almost applied the burning match without blowing it out. So, true, it may not be a particularly safe method. But I’m sticking with it. Most folks recommend using tweezers.
Here’s the bottom line on ticks: Don’t walk in tall grass or the woods without wearing lots of bug/tick spray. Wash and dry your clothes as soon as possible. Check your companion for ticks (this part can be fun!). Remove any tick you find asap! No one needs lyme disease, paralysis, etc.
Finally. For the tick-lover who has everything. Uh, okay.
April 11th Words
Journal: 300 words
Long fiction: (Edited 8 chapters)
Short fiction: 0
Non-fiction: 0 words
Blogging: 1001 words
Exercise: 0
Laura, gasp, TICKS! you poor thing, and I do sympathize with you; In New Jersey we find “Deer Crossing” signs on roads and highways, and far too many are dead on the side of the road—so painful and sad, but we have also been conditioned to check for ticks ( so many people have been stricken with Lyme disease, so I truly empathize with you. Ugh ( forgive me if I didn’t check out the links).
I was raised on PBS shows” my parents watched operas, symphonies and Upstairs, Downstairs. I adored Brideshead Revisited when my kids were little and asleep for the night. More recently, I’ve watched Wolf Hall, Poldark, and of course, Victoria: I was disappointed in the Invisible Brontes.
The Duchess of Duke Street sounds charming.
Make sure you don’t see any bull’s eyes, btw.
No bullseyes, thank goodness!
I also found the Brontë show disappointing. It lacked the drama of any one of their stories. Real life illustrated is dull sometimes.