Got the bad news the other day: brother Bruce, who lives a mile down the road, has already picked several “big fat ticks” off their dog Lucy.
I immediately pulled my jar of lemongrass lotion out of the fridge, where it’s been stored since the fall, and began my two-or-three-times-during-the-day ritual of slathering it on neck, shoulders, ears, wrists, ankles, lower back, belly, hips and thighs. That pretty much covers all the landing spots for wood ticks.
Then I sent an email to Laura, requesting another six jars to get me through the summer.
I shall now embark upon the wearing of my summer wardrobe: pants tucked into socks, collars turned up and buttoned up, long sleeves tightly fastened at the wrist. It sucks — and so do wood ticks.
There is still some snow on the ground, yet the wood ticks are out. Sickening.
I wondered if this year Scott would get some chickens to put in the coop, once it’s properly repaired. Last year they were fixing it up for pigs, but never completed the task and no pigs came to stay. Emil loves pigs and actually so do I.
Not that I like chickens or want chickens to look after, not that I care about eating chicken, not that I want to make Emil refuse to walk around anywhere in their vicinity (no idea why he avoids chickens; will not go near them), but because I’ve read that chickens will eat their weight in wood ticks. You can put an electric fence around them to keep predators at bay, and move it to various spots around your yard. This will probably not get done, as Farm Beau is too busy and I have no clue how to do any of it. Nor will I push it, as the thought of stepping in chickenshit while walking around the yard puts me off.
Lorna Cunningham-Rushton: I’m in awe of everything you and Scott have done to improve your place. Dave and I have been in this place for ten years and count ourselves genii to have painted the front hall and by ourselves I mean we paid the guy who actually did it
It’s all down to Scott. I’m just the cheering section and occasional consultant.
You’re lucky to have a handy husband.
It does seem like he can fix just about anything.
wisewebwoman: My gawd, they’re both gorgeous, lucky you and loads of fun ahead. And often the work bubbling underneath us is never noted. You are lucky indeed, sounds like so much work was done.
When I put it all down “on paper” the other day, it made me realize … I need to make sure that man never runs out of oatmeal-raisin cookies. I made him some more yesterday. I should also include potatoes in our meals more often, just to keep him happy. I’m not there yet; still alternating them with rice and pasta because hey, it’s not all about the handyman! I eat too.