I know I haven't written in awhile. It makes me feel guilty. I am not sure why. I write for me, mostly, so who do I have to answer to really? Right? Anyway, a lot has been going on and it has made me a little reserved (HA!), slightly private (snort), and very protective of my feelings and emotional state (that one is totes for real). I haven't really felt like opening up too much about the impending shit storm that has been brewing and swirling around my life. At least not to the blogging world. However, I do feel like writing, at least a little something. So, I am not going to go into any detail about anything important. I simply don't feel like it. Plus, big things can be dealt with in time. They aren't actually the things that break the camel's back. It is that small, seemingly insignificant event that pushes me over the edge. So, instead of talking about family, medical bills, geographical unhappiness, emotional uncertainty, you know, life, I am going to talk about poison sumac.
When we moved into our town home 8 years ago, we planted clematis. "It's pretty!! It will look so cool climbing up a trellis next to our steps!!" Idiot move number one. Clematis is completely invasive and prolific. It takes over everything in its path and chokes the life out of it. It twists itself around bushes and flowers, grows under the porch, spreads to other parts of the garden. I have seen clematis from our garden growing up the sides of other people's homes in the neighborhood. Plus, something has fed on the leaves of our clematis every year, so it hasn't looked pretty. It has looked diseased and gross. Recently, we had a new neighbor move in right next door. My clematis decided to wrap itself up in his cable wires and around the drain pipe. It was time for the clematis to meet its end. Fucker. So, this year, instead of just going into that corner of the garden and trimming back the invading vines, I decided to dig it up.
When digging up plants in a garden, one must prepare. Make sure to wear gloves, but only ones that are made of cotton and have holes in them. Also, do not wear any protective clothing. Pants are for chumps. Get as close to naked as possible. I prefer spaghetti strap tank tops and Daisy Dukes. Do wear closed toe shoes, not flip flops. At least protect the most important part of your body. While digging, wipe your sweaty face and neck as much as possible with your holey glove. It totally keeps you dry. Do not be shy about pushing your whole body into every plant. If you can not dig the roots up with your shovel, sit right down in the dirt and use your gloved hands. Get dirt all over your legs and arms. The most important thing, DO NOT KNOW THE IDENTIFICATION OF EVERY PLANT!! It is completely unnecessary!! Just go with your gut. Pay no mind to the rashes you have gotten in the past, shortly after working in the garden. No one knows what the fuck they are talking about when they tell you it looks like poison. When you are done, stand around in the sun for a little longer. Let the sweat roll down the rest of your body and really soak into your skin. I promise you, this is the best advice EVAR. You will not be sorry. Fast forward to two days later. "Hmmm...I think I have a couple of mosquito bites on my chin. Huh, that looks a little blistery. Wait, I have seen this shit before." People, it has only taken me 8 years and about four rounds of this shit to finally say, "Maybeeeeeee..." Srsly. The good news is, it gets worse every time I get it. Wait...
Once the rash started this year, I decided to investigate on my magic box known as a cell phone. I looked up poison ivy and poison oak to make sure I *really* knew what they looked like. Nope. Neither of those were in my garden. Then, onto poison sumac. "Wait, what the? What the hell? THAT is poison sumac?!? That think that looks like a fucking tree is poison sumac?!? THAT IS POISON SUMAC?!? I chopped that shit down, dug around the root with my hands, pulled on the root to try to get out from under my porch, sat in the dirt where the branches lay. OMG!!! I have been pulling this shit out for YEARS!!" I actually thought it was something we must have planted. How could I possibly know it was poison? HOW? I mean, it isn't like I could have asked anyone, or looked at pictures, or researched on the internet or something. No reason for doing anything intelligent. At least the clematis is gone, AMIRITE?! Poison Sumac. PoS. Bastard of all bastards. For years I have been mystified by the annual summer rash I get. Sometimes it is on my back, sometimes on my neck. Last year, I had 3 different types of rashes on my torso, one of which everyone said looked like poison. "It isn't poison. I have been nowhere near any type of poison," I claimed. I am a dumbass. True, I had not come in contact with poison ivy or poison oak, I knew what those looked like, and while the Virginia creeper that climbed the side of my house resembles poison ivy, it has five leaves, not three. My husband kept telling me there was poison in the clematis. "You are wrong. I have been back there many times and have seen no poison." I am a fucking moron. This year, I am finally able to acknowledge my ignorance.
So, here I am with poison sumac. I am still breathing, which is good. I look fairly disgusting in places and I feel like a leper. The heat is making the itching even worse, which is sad cuz I love the summah time. It has definitely taken my mind off anything overly important because all I can do is whine about the itching and pain. My 5 year old frowns every time she sees the shit on my neck, kisses me, and says, "I am sad you have a rash, Mommy." All I can do is choke back the tears and say, "Me too, baby girl. Me.Fucking.Too."
