Tick Tics

So you’re probably thinking, “What’s up with Blue Ridge Blue Collar Girl?  First she writes three posts in a row about big red-eyed bugs, then she writes in nauseating detail about her husband’s bloody workshop incident.  Not to mention subjecting us to her terrible puns!”

Okay, so maybe I should apologize for the puns.  It’s really sort of a compulsion for me.  Seriously.  I have an uncontrollable urge to play with words.  The puns pop nonstop into my head, I blurt them out, and before you know it, I get carried away and people are rolling their eyes and groaning. 

But I digress.  What I really want to talk about here is irrational fear.  Neurosis.  Phobia, if you will.  Heart-pounding, scared-out-of-your-socks, sweating-bullets fear.   I’m embarrassed to admit it, but the thing that provokes a near panic attack in me is less than 1/10th of an inch long and wide—just slightly bigger than one of the vowels in this sentence.  So what is the tiny critter that makes my skin crawl as it crawls on my skin? 

It’s the tick.  Ick.  Ticks…well…they suck.

(Sorry! There I go again!  Like I said…a pun compulsion.)

And here at the doublewide, we are (as Blue Ridge Blue Collar Man says) eat up with ticks.  The folks who lived here before us raised cattle that ranged all over the property, so I think that might be the reason we have such a booming tick population. And all the tall grass and weeds in the fields around us along with lots of wildlife passing through make for a sort of parasite paradise.  Almost every time we walk through the yard, we pick up a tick. 

You know one of the things I hate most about ticks?  It’s the way they’re so…I dunno…stealthy.  They’re not content just to latch onto your ankle or leg for their tick picnic, then quietly drop off.  No, they furtively creep their way up your leg, looking for that perfect, out-of-the-way spot to sup your blood.

*Shudder*

Anyway, as a result, every time I feel the slightest tickle, I am certain it is a tick tickle   (I guess you’d call this a nervous tick.)  I am constantly checking my legs for any little black specks making their way northward or feeling my neck or head to make sure they’re not already there.   And since we’re outdoors a lot, what with gardening and lawn mowing and bird watching, I have developed a bit of an obsession with constantly checking my legs.  I can’t stop thinking about ticks.  Yes, I know this is quite neurotick…I mean…neurotic.  And yeah, it does go back to my childhood (but I don’t wish to repulse you further with that story).  But I’m not sure what to do about it but wait for cold weather when the little bloodsuckers finally go dormant.  Or get counseling.  Or buy a friendly little monkey who will delicately groom me.

I’ve always wondered why God made ticks.  Or mosquitoes.  Or chiggers, for that matter.  Ah well, one of the great mysteries of life.  But one thing I am profoundly grateful for:

That ticks can’t fly.

9 Responses to “Tick Tics”

  1. June Says:

    Yes, but they can jump! I’m 100% with you on this matter. Last year I happened to be brushing my hand through my hair and felt IT. Forgetting all the things you’re supposed to do, I went into a panic and swiped it off my scalp before too much blood had gotten into IT. For the rest of the year I itched and imagined one on me any time I worked outside. This year seems to be worse. I think mostly because our hay’s not been cut and that we’ve been doing so much work in the brush. In fact, I found one on my torso just yesterday…IT had gotten underneath a t-shirt AND a sweatshirt. I told Judy that I wanted to start taking the flea/tic medicine that Shaynee gets. They hop on her, take a bite and die.

  2. Judy Says:

    I love your puns and your way of writing. I hate ticks and spiders. There are lots of trees in my yard and I have these little brown tree spiders. They drive me crazy. When I bought my house it had set empty for 3 months and the house was full of them. I almost sold it but finally got them under control in the house. It’s little things that scare me to death. I can see the big ones but the little ones creep up on you.

  3. Going Crunchy Says:

    I think you probably read my post about having Lyme when I lived in N.C. Be very careful, wear spray and do frequent tick checks. Yep, the little boogers bother me to death. Shan

  4. luckypennies Says:

    Oh, please do buy a grooming monkey! That would be the perfect addition to our household. And maybe it would tell Benjamin to take more showers. :D

    Again, your puns are inexcusably silly, but I must say, they really TICKled me.

  5. CountryDew Says:

    Ticks are definitely not poltickally correct, that’s for sure!

  6. colleen Says:

    I think in puns too.

    I mostly fear the little deer ticks. I also HATE maggots.

  7. wesleyjeanne Says:

    I think the ticks are especially bad this year. We pull them off the dog daily and off ourselves near as much. Today as I was about to walk into class, I scratched at my head and felt one. I’ve found them on the children three times now–not dug in yet but still.

    I like your puns. I’m no good at them but I happen to live with a punny guy.

  8. marion Says:

    How come they can invent anti-tick collars for dogs and cats, but not for people?

  9. Jennifer Says:

    As much as we hate them, and yes I vehemently hate ticks, fleas, and mosquitoes, they are, to put it bluntly, here for population control. Ugh, that sounds nasty, but it is true. I guess that’s why we are higher on the food chain and able to kill the pesky buggers.

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