Rounds #3 and #4 with the Poison Ivy were just as productive as the first 2 rounds combined, so you see how well we’ve eradicated the beast to this point. There are now two heaping snow-sleds out by the firepit with that heaping wheelbarrow full of poisonous nastiness. It’s raining or I’d give you a nice visual.
Are we done? Not likely. The next drive-by revealed plenty of triple-leafed nemesis to be conquered. I’m sure this rain will really help the situation.
So the question on everyone’s mind, and the reason for this update, is how the conquerors fared, now that we know that the PI seems to be doing just fine after each successive battle.
The conquerors didn’t fare so well. Scotty once again has itchy wrists and ankles.
And me? Well, I was covered like a mummy out there. To avoid the urushiols altogether.
Did you ever wonder if urushiols are specific to poison ivy?
Well, I did. So I looked it up.
The answer is no. They appear to be the actively problematic oleoresin in not only poison ivy, but also poison oak, poison sumac, and their namesake, the chinese lacquer tree (I must assume that much is lost in translation here) as well.
Not to mention, the greatly-to-be-feared mango tree (???).
Consider yourself educated.
Somehow this is helpful information.
The only place the monster got me was, you guessed it, in my EYE.
The morning after, I looked like this:
I know, I know. How is one to spot my particular brand of explosive melanin PI rash amongst all those freckles? Well, there on my left eye (on the right side, thank you selfie camera), you see a bit more frecklage than average, nearing the outside edge. That isn’t supposed to be there. Of course I thought maybe I was making a mountain out of a mole hill, but a quick gasp from every child in residence (one), and every child raised recently over video chat (three), and also the husband himself, revealed that I was not, indeed, over-reacting.
I had a beater of a headache yesterday. You know why? Because that eye started to swell, and it takes a lot of brow strength to keep the ol’ peeper open. Made me a little grumpy.
But of course, that was only day one.
Here’s a shot of me (well, my eye anyway) in bed, when I awoke and felt a bit like I’d strapped on a tiny little individual-sized sandbag:
I’ll spare you the whole picture, what with the unflattering dawn lighting and the in-progress bed-head. But the melanin eruption is a bit more obvious this morning, wouldn’t you agree?
“Does it itch?” I hear from the cheap seats…
Of course not. Not yet. That’s not how I roll, remember? But I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t just a little bit concerned about what the next 2 weeks might bring.
Here’s a real hum-dinger, as I finally wrested my crippled self into the bathroom this morning:
That was me trying to angle m’head in such a way that you could at least tell that the eye was open. She’s a little puffy today. And I’m looking an unfortunate bit like Sloth from the Goonies.
I’ve had better days.
But there is no itching, and as long as I get off this computer soon, so I can stop throwing my head back in order to see the screen past that kumquat in my eye, I might be able to avoid another banger. Let’s call it a good day, just not the best I’ve ever had.
Here are a few pictures of plants, because why not:
Alright. it’s time for me to close my eye again for a bit, and wait for the other shoe to drop. If I stay true to form, I figure I have about a week until the skin sloughs off. If you read about the first and last PI adventure, you might have thought that the band-aid application at that particular point was somehow responsible for what followed. I confess to wondering the same thing.
Let me tell you, there will be no band-aid application this time.
If you need me, I’ll be meditating,