Behold a Giant Muh

What a Weird Winter Will Wield

Though two freezes have managed to pretty much kill my peach blossoms, there is a chance we could get cherries.

This afternoon, our friend LeAnn Skeen let us know that public school students in Lawton, Oklahoma, “were let out school early because of the tornado  watch.”

It was right around this time that I heard a message at the Softball Hall of Fame, where I was covering the state tournament: after the 2:30 games finish, go home, and we’ll all trek up here Friday and finish.

I am amazed at this. Not at the idea of caution, even the abundance of it. Sure, you should take cover should the rare tornado warning be issued. But not half a day in advance. That’s more like an abundance of panic.

What can we assumed when we see two feathers from two different birds tangled up like this?

That’s just the prattle for today.

My main vector or vexation is being “eaten alive” as Abby put it, by tiny animals intent on defending their inch of dirt after spending all of a bitter-dry-wet-hot-colder-still winter trying to hide and live. The organisms responsible are at the very least the dreaded no-see-ums (which I haven’t seen), biting flies, and other non-zoonotic biters and stingers, but also, at least in my own case, one nymphal Lone Star tick. The weird winter, with its plunges into single digits, followed by a tease of a warm period, then another plunge into realms that require the purchase of fuel to keep our dog from freezing in his dog palace, may be the cause of the insects and arachnids being hungrier and more virile than ever before.

So my milieu consists mostly of scratching some party of me, sometimes until it bleeds, with a grimace on my face matched only by the absurdity of my orgasm face, followed by an alternating therapy of steroid cream and antihistamine cream.

Hawken the Irish Wolfhound and I have taken our last deep woods walk for the season. In six months or so, when the ticks and poison ivy are down, we will start that again. Yesterday we came across several stands of poison ivy on the trail.

Then, just when you though it couldn’t get worse, it got worse, I kneeled down in the garden to vanquish a stubborn stand of Bermuda, something hungry got me seven times on just the knee. It didn’t seem to pause for even a moment that my knee was soaked in 40% DEET (Deep Woods Repel©). I’d post a picture, but this qualifies as PTGDNP (Photo Too Gross Do Not Post).

Today I spent in Oklahoma City shooting golf and softball. I sunscreened, so at least I won’t put sunburn on top of itch burn.

The time has come to start thinning Abby’s turnips, radishes, and lettuces. I pulled this one up tonight. It’s a variety called French Breakfast, which make me wonder if that name has merit, and these long, thin radishes are part of a French breakfast.





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