Poison Ivy

No, not the sexy Uma Thurman kind.  This Poison Ivy is NOT at all good with a leaf green outfit and mask.  Oy vey does it hurt!

Last Monday, boychild had a blotch on his face when picked up from school.  I assumed it was a mosquito bite cause after all, this is La, and mosquitos are the official welcome-bird of Spring, Summer, and anything short of nuclear winter.  I'm pretty positive it didn't happen at school-- most likely, it just took that time to set in from the previous day.  No big, right, one little splotch of scratchiness?
I also worked to clean up the garden bed of our new rental property and had a big piece of poison oak's woody vine pop up onto my left upper arm.  It instantly left a burn mark-- yes, a burn mark-- but it did not really itch.  I went and washed it off and figured I was safe. 

So since then, poor boychild's face has erupted in multiple itchy scabby bits and my arm itches so much I may cut it off.  It would be an improvement.  I have tried the various washes-- including the 30 dollar, "will get rid of that nasty poision ivy oil for you" stuff.  (Works a little, not a lot). 

We have a lot of Poison Ivy plants in this area because it rains a lot, and we have nice fertile soil & warm, sunny days.  The swampland is prone to growing things we don't want. 

I will never, ever, underestimate the dangers of this plant, and man oh man, to imagine how awful it would be if it were in more "awkward to scratch" areas. 

Meditation

My garden
full of weeds from
Fall and earliest Spring
calls to me. I hear
the quietest of pulls, sigh, circular
breath.

The beat-up Buddha statue, the angel who watches quietly,
the trellis choked with brown, crispy leaves.
They leave no messages for me anyway.

The red-headed woodpecker who demands more more
sunflower seeds and
waits impatient, for summer's abundance of bugs
perches on a nearby tree and flits his wings.

I cannot bring myself to pull and neaten
and organize rows
of perky flowers.  This Spring,
the weeds seem more loving
than hopeful busy, demanding flowers.

I will pull them all up, plant grey
rocks and
small bonsai trees and tan sand.
But not today.

Silence

So I haven't blogged much in forever, I know. I can say I've been busy, and that is ridiculously true.  But also, part of it is that I have yet to post here my mother's obituary.  I wrote it.  I meant to send it to some newspapers where she was born (Elgin, Illinois) since that's the only place there are people who might not already know.  But in spite of writing some poems about it, I just haven't been able to post that here.

Is it because it makes it more final, more formal?  Maybe.  But mostly, I'm not not in a blogging about me sort of mood right now.  And that's okay.  I'm sure I'll be back eventually-- I've done this too long to really drop it forever.  And it's an addiction that doesn't fade easily. 

So for now, follow me on Facebook where I can handle short updates and here if you don't mind some pauses now & then.