Sympathy Itch
May 19, 2008|Comments (none)
In our little corner of south Georgia, it is not uncommon to see folks clawing away at itchy spots throughout the summer months. These spots could be caused by any number of things: poison ivy, poison sumac, poison oak, chiggers, ticks, fleas, mosquitoes, spiders, etc. These stinging, biting, and/or poisonous critters and plants know no prejudice. They happily engage with people of all shapes, sizes, and bank accounts. This means that during any gathering of Southerners, a sympathy itcher (like me) will be kept very busy.
I can’t help it. If they itch, then I itch.
As many have figured out: I am fascinated by animal behavioral science and thrill to the thought of unlocking the secrets of the universal truths. Today’s universal truth: we are all sympathy itchers. Case in point:
“I wonder what bit me, Hue?”
“Hang on, Loo. There’s something under my wing.”
“You know, that’s funny because my shoulder itches, too.”
At some point, we just have to leave. The itching cycle will continue indefinitely. Was there really a real cause for the itch? The world may never know…
Tell me: are you a sympathy itcher? Can you stand the mere mention of lice, mosquitoes, fleas, or poison ivy? Are you itchy right this very minute?
See another universal truth by clicking here.
It’s a Game Called, “I Win.”
April 26, 2008|Comments (20)
As we pulled into the driveway last night, Josh and I realized that we had an uninvited guest snooping around the guinea pen and front yard. The Red fox had returned to finish the job on our birds after the rainstorm. Josh threw the car into park and ran in the house with flip flops clapping on the wet pavement to get his gun but the fox was long gone. My Great White Hunter was bummed.
Inclement weather is ideal weather for a fox to go hunting. Most animals have bedded down and are unsuspecting. Nighttime inclement weather is even better. (I say this like I am an expert or something… Josh told me, ok?)
This morning, we awoke to a thick fog and Josh set up camp on the front porch with binos (that’s military-man speak for binoculars), rifle, coffee, and the Bible.
He’s going to protect his babies. Don’t worry chickens: Daddy’s home.
—————————–Update on the pesky fox battle————————–
Josh discovered that the hillside is the fox suburbs (a bedroom community of poultry-munchers) and began trap construction. He killed two of them this morning and is now after the rest. Yes, they have awakened the sleeping giant: Josh, the hunter/tracker/trapper. Beware the determined man. Testosterone abounds.
Duck Tales and Turkey Talk
April 24, 2008|Comments (none)
-
The VERY Latest from Twitter
