Junk drawer of my mind.

You remember that David wrote me a song:


STARI, STARI, night.

Paint your pallor blue and grey,

Look out on a summer's day,

With ticks that know the darkness in my soul.

Vermin laden hills,

Scratch my knees and take some pills,

Catch disease and other ills,

Of horrors spawned from southern backwoods land.

Now you understand what I tried to say to ya,

How you suffered tularemia,

Now you fight with edema.

You would not listen, you did not know how.

Perhaps you'll listen now. 


He wrote another verse, but saved it for my birthday (50 is the bloodborne pathogen birthday):

Second verse, dire as the first...

STARI, STARI,  night.

Flaming rash that brightly blaze,

Swirling rings in reddened haze,

Reflect in Roxanne's eyes of china blue.

Colors changing hue, morning wake of aches & pain,

Weathered faces curse in vain,

Are soothed beneath the traveler's swollen hand. 

Now you understand what I tried to say to ya,

How you suffered tularemia,

Now you fight with edema.

You would not listen, you did not know how.

Perhaps you'll listen now. 

~~~~~

We've been coughing through the smoke and squinting through the haze of the nearest forest fire, which is at the county line.  Firefighters say they need a tropical storm's worth of water to normalize the situation.
~~~~~
I've decided to see all the movies referenced in Science Fiction/Double Feature.  After that, I address homelessness and social justice.  Last night:  The Day the Earth Stood Still.
~~~~~

I've talked about Berkey water filters for years, and at the last minute I veered off-course and bought the Doulton SS2.  

~~~~~

Products that don't work.

It's not true they don't work, because we haven't burned at all.  But, we have cute little tans.

This post about bloodsucking brought to you by C&M Tobacco.

[I'm sucking the life out of their signal.]

This is our third day at the Dick Cross Wildlife Management Area on the Virginia/North Carolina border, where the official animal is the tick.  The CDC tell us that doxycycline is good for what ails, when you're on the tick trails.  The cats are inside for the duration, even though they're Frontlined out the wazoo.  What?  Between the shoulder blades?  You Frontline your cats your way, I'll Frontline mine.

 






Roanoke River   














   















As Heard At Our House™:

Duck 1:  I prefer the Lone Star tick to these little deer ticks.

Duck 2:  Now we're choosing our favorite tick.

_______

Nature is brutal.  It's tick or be ticked.  It's a tick-suck-tick world.

Our first couple of days out we were feeling rushed and harried.  Walmart at night is fine, but it's really not what we were after.  The Northeast is tough for finding boondocking sites that are pleasant and scenic and not just Save Money, Live Better.  A little research and we found this spot, almost devoid of people (the others had been drained of their blood and dragged off for compost).  I feel like this is what we were looking for (A pint of A+ for me, and one for the lady!).

Gratuitous photos from the road: