Day 455: Tick Wars, Escalation
I don't know where to begin. That's not to say that a lot of very interesting or dangerous things happened today, I don't mean to mislead you as I sit here thinking of what to write into thinking that my biggest problem is what incredible adventure to regale you with first. That's not the issue at hand. Rather, as I sit here with a video image of a sleeping Blaze being beamed to me from the other room, and as I try to make out his tiny form in the night vision image without the aid of my glasses -they're downstairs and I'm too lazy to get them- I am simply at a loss for what to tell you at all.
Let me attempt to trace the day back to when I first woke up and go from there. Perhaps that way we'll keep this in some kind of readable fashion and if it's an uninteresting list of activities at least it will be in chronological order. And that's something.
The first thing I did today was wake up in bed. I don't mean to brag at all, I'm just very disciplined when it comes to that particular routine. I do. I wake up every single day. Like clock work. I don't mean to shove it in your face if you don't wake up every single day, if perhaps you're the type of person who instead occasionally sleeps through whole weeks without spending any time awake. I should perhaps add that you might want to get that checked out; unless you have bear in your blood and hibernation is just something that got passed down through the ages.
After waking up, I heard the door bell ring. Wait... it was the other way around wasn't it? I heard the door bell ring, on a day we expected rain -and thus NOT our woodsman- and that's what woke me up. It wasn't that big of a deal really, as I went to bed ridiculously early last night, passing out like an amateur when I put Blaze to bed. Childishly early I would say; as if I were a child and had to get up early for school... or work, I suppose, as well, though adultishly, isn't a word that many of your brains would accept without further explanation.
It was 8am when my guy arrived, and due to the fact there's a language barrier (that has its advantages.. vis a vie, this situation) I merely snuck into the baby room and kept Blaze sleeping while Jeannette got up to go tell him to get started.
Back it up, not entirely accurate. I believe my woodsman showed up early and just started sawing shit down.. I woke up and listened to him for a minute, knowing the doorbell would come eventually, and decided to read articles on my phone. That's right, I read a 55 page (phone pages..) article on how Richard Dawkins is quite possibly ruining his reputation and legacy by being a bit of a twatbag (not a word.. and yet telling) as he stridently goes about his business trying to destroy religion.. and by association God. I was a fan of Richards for a long time, which is why I took the time to read the article.
I won't bother going into it. This won't be that kind of entry.
We got up and had breakfast then watched Blaze begin his day of playing with his toys and crawling around trying to grab at every single thing he probably shouldn't have, bypassing completely all the things he should.. as well as all the other forms of baby investigation that goes on at his age, as his parents sat watching him, marvelling every moment at what life is now like with a mobile human machine underfoot -he really is getting quite good at getting around and as such, is now into everything. Why just today I was standing in the kitchen chatting with Jeannette, Blaze at my feet, when all of a sudden he was pulling at my pant leg to stand up and when I looked down was doing just that, happily standing in front of me peering up hoping to get some kind of reaction at his feat.
After that I started to...
I shit you not I just had a tick crawl across my left hand as I was typing. This is the second time that's happened today. The first was when I opened my laptop (different machine) downstairs in the living room after breakfast and watched one crawl across the keyboard. Sonofabitch!!
I fear the tick war has now escalated. Clearly whomever is supporting their increasing numbers, no doubt a traitor from our own species, has found my blog and has been informing them of my plight to destroy them. It seems also entirely possible that after finding out I've caught on to their attempts to bite into my erogenous zones (to recap... crotch, cheek & back of knee) they are now attempting to get between me and my work. Well well well. It's one thing to try to steal my life's blood right from the areas that get me aroused, and, further, to attack my wife in a similar area, an area my next kid will be coming out of!! ...but when you start coming between me and my computer... it's on.
The little bastards. They get into everything. The concern is always Blaze of course and we do our best to keep his room utterly sterilized from ticks. We check his bed every night and keep Hubble out of there. But the problem is they still get in somehow! I was out mowing the lawn today so no doubt one got stuck to my boots or pants or whatever, and has been making it's way up my giant frame only to be tossed into a death jar of rubbing alcohol with a bunch of his cronies. The tupperware jar is getting pretty filled up, just a glass container full of parasitic death, the front line of this personal war I'm fighting.
I saw my neighbours out yesterday dragging thick sheets behind them. It's a move a saw scientists doing as they tried to catch as many ticks as they could so they could test them for disease. They said they've been pulling dozens of ticks off their dog and she doesn't even go in the long grass. I told them I've pulled 71 off Hubble. Four more today. As I said, we're being besieged up here. It's grim. You have to wonder at what point someone is going to snap and call the army.
Well that pretty much sums up the day in a nutshell I suppose. No matter how hard I tried to keep it a chronological account, the bloody ticks just wouldn't have it and commandeered my blog for the purposes of their own shady propaganda as per usual. No press is bad press and all that I suppose.
Other than that the only other thing of note today was that I started teaching Jeannette my 97% completed memory list! Do your own drum roll please. Or some other musical sound to denote celebration... actually drum roll is more for a reveal isn't it, in which case I really screwed up the order of sentences there...
"Take a journey with me Jeannette," is what I said to her when I initially explained the exercise and began reading the list of ridiculous images and she started to correct some of the more unrealistic points. "It's not about realism," I reminded her, "it's about being memorable. Now, would you like to have a perfect memory, or would you like to be right."
Of course it's going to be very difficult to arrest a bunch of ants! But Anthony Hopkins does it every time I hear the number 1 nevertheless.
Have a good night munks.