If You Could See Me Now...

The poison ivy debacle

continues, and I'm an unhappy camper.

Yesterday morning, I got a steroid shot,

and by last night, some of the whelps 

had gone down.

But the itching, the scratching continues.

I wake up at night clawing at myself.

For someone who never 

took poison ivy seriously before,

I've gained a new respect fear

for this venomous, virulent, vicious, 

noxious, pernicious, malignant plant.

While I'd planned to keep our garden

as organic as possible,

my new battle cry is death to poison ivy

by any means possible.

Of course, the problem is that I encountered it

along the tree line that needs further

cleaning out on both sides of the creek,

not in the garden area.

And, yes, I did venture up to the

old house place on the sandy hill

to dig jonquils and iris for transplanting.

Oh, and the treks into the woods

because I wanted to follow another creek.

What's a girl gonna' do?

Stay out of the woods?

Don't think so.

But if it happens again?

I might give it some serious consideration.