Continued Confessions

might I even become religious?

Because it is Thursday, I am committed to making my appearance on Substack. However, I have to tell you that it will be brief. That pesky plant did much more damage to me than originally reported. It turns out that the entangling vine on my rhododendron may have been the poison ivy itself. I have nasty outbreaks on my right hand particularly between the first three fingers. This makes it rather difficult to type comfortably. I know, in the grand scheme of things, a virulent weed to which I seem particularly susceptible is a minor inconvenience. But honestly, I would not classify the symptoms as an itch. It feels more like nerve-tingling pain quite frankly. And I haven’t been scratching at all. Thank goodness I had plenty of supplies to use up (from last time I was afflicted), and I have a lovely deep bathtub to loll in cool water as respite. I canceled all engagements for the near future and will spend my time reading everything everywhere—the Jimmy Carter book is fascinating with its description of the many animals and plants he interacted with on a daily basis as a boy. And it warms my heart that he, too, loved going barefoot all the time.