Yesterday, my siblings and I hung out together for a couple of hours. We started with lunch at a local (to me) restaurant. We sat and talked for a long time, then my brother said, "I think I'm going to take a drive. Who wants to go?" My sister and I said to count us in. The sibs followed me to my house to drop off my car, and I climbed in with them.
We drove past our grandfather's farm and the house where we grew up (Son #1 lives there now). We drove down through the river bottom, reminiscing about the times we'd been there with our father. We drove to the cemetery where nearly 200 years' worth of our ancestors are buried. When our route was complete, we came back to my house for coffee. It was a fun visit.
Later, as I was standing at the stove, cooking supper, my back started itching. I scratched it through my shirt, but it kept itching, so I reached under my shirt to give it a good scratch. When my nails went across the itchy spot, I felt something move, as if I'd scratched across a big, floppy skin tag. I did not remember having a skin tag there, so I went to the bathroom to have a look in the mirror. The itchy spot was inflamed and red, and there appeared to be a clump of dried blood stuck to it. I reached around to remove it, and had to YANK it three times before it came off. IT WAS A TICK! I nearly went spastic.
I took off my shirt and got out a hand mirror to examine the spot. It seemed that there was something hanging out of it. After a bit of scraping and pinching, I pulled a thread-like thing from the center of the spot. I guess it was the tick's proboscis, or whatever it's called. I nearly went spastic again, and when The Husband came home a few minutes later, I made him examine the spot with a magnifying glass to make sure no tick parts remained.
I didn't sleep much last night for scratching and thinking about ticks.
Check yourself!
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