Poison Ivy Acres

OK, that does it. I'm hiring a yard boy. One who's immune to poison ivy and knows the secret of banishing it from our property.

Ol' Bill got some mowing done last week, and I was sitting on the patio enjoying the sight when I spotted a couple of stray tall grasses near the maple tree. I thought, no problem, I'll go give them a yank and get back to my wine. As soon as I plucked the grass, I noticed the deadly glossy three leaves that most of us around here know mean trouble.

To my knowledge, I left it alone. I didn't think I made contact with it. Apparently, I was wrong.

The next day, I noticed the first signs on my ring finger and quickly took off my rings before the swelling began. This wasn't my first rodeo, as they say. By the next morning, the itching had begun on my cheek and was moving to my neck and arms.

Luckily, my granddaughter married a nurse, and he recommended an ointment that offered some relief. Another friend from church suggested something else. Believe me, I was game to try it all, but when it neared my eyes, I thought it best to actually see my doctor before too much damage was done.

The doctor, a woman, suggested an oatmeal bath. I looked at her like she was crazy and said something like, "OK, sure, I'll do that. Sounds like a practical idea, tossing oatmeal into the tub and hoping it doesn't clog the drain too badly."

She knew I wasn't about to try that trick, and agreed she probably wouldn't do it either. She, by the way, had an itchy spot on her own arm as we spoke, so she knew where I was coming from.

She wrote a prescription that should take effect in a couple of days. Thank goodness.

But that does it for my weed-pulling days, even if it means we'll be living in a poison ivy-covered cottage. I might try telling Ol' Bill where it is, but I'm paranoid enough now to stay on the patio and point. He's pretty immune to the stuff.

And so you ask why I'm even in the vicinity of it when I know how my system responds. I have no answer other than the simple fact that if I see it, I know I want it gone. Now.

Oddly enough, I never got poison ivy when I was a kid. My cousin spent every summer slathered in calamine lotion, and I remember feeling sorry for him. I was a grandmother myself before I first experienced what he had to go through all those years ago.

Yes, I always wash my hands and arms in cool water with a special soap that's supposed to get rid of the poison before it can do its damage. But it got me, and I'm paying the price.

So that's it. I'm buying some of those artificial plants and flowers I'm seeing on Facebook. No more crawling around planting petunias and geraniums for the deer to eat. We can spray the whole place with weed killer and put the hose away.

I know the hummingbirds and butterflies won't be happy with us, but maybe I can stop this incessant itching and get a good night's sleep for a change.

Just writing this is making me itch.