John Jordan is an independent freelance writer living on a small farm in Chatham-Kent which doubles as a Bed and Breakfast.

 

Sometimes, you feel like Saying, "Why did I do that?" I said that recently as I looked back over what I did on my summer Vacation'. Not far from our verandah, (where I didn't spend too much time this summer) is the scene of the crime. Over the years, as I tend to some of the flora around The Big House, I have become suspicious of something not quite right down in there amongst the yews and junipers.

By July 12, it was time to give The Big House a haircut because, frankly, it was looking a bit shaggy (like me lately as I have been avoiding the barber) with some of the vines crawling around the windows and so I set to work. "A little off the top." I said as I started working with the loppers and secateurs on the ivy growing up the walls just behind the junipers and yews. You'll note I said ivy, not what kind of ivy. Boy, did I do a lot of clipping there and the when I stood back, the front of The Big House really looked great!

But the next day, I started feeling itchy on my forearms. "Oh, just some nettles I must have brushed by," I thought. As the day progressed, I was definitely itching the itch of death as my arms were becoming bleeding stumps. Oh, it drove me crazy as I kept applying the calamine lotion to fight the itch. My arms were caked with the pink stuff and folks at work started saying things like, "Where did you get that?" and "Don't you know poison ivy when you see it?"

"No,'I guess I don't.."

So I checked out all the different vines we had growing there and sure enough there was the culprit. At least I think it is. I could identify grape vines, Boston Ivy and Virginia Creeper. And then there was this other one. It had three leaves, they were somewhat shiny but they were not connected together which I thought was how you identified poison ivy. No matter, I certainly had a case of it.

Every where I went, people would ask me, "What did you do to your arms?" I had to answer in some form of a sheepish response, "Oh, I got a little too close to some poison ivy."

Meantime, I'm itching away and generally making everyone around me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

It took two full weeks of this summer before I could put away the calamine. I went through two bottles of the stuff.

Meantime, I started collecting trivia about poison ivy. Did you know that just one ounce of the oil on those shiny leaves could make every one of the 6,389,969,987 people on this earth itch the same itch of death that I had?

Did you know that poison oak does not exist in this part of North America?

Information such as this certainly didn't make the itch go away but at least I got a little wiser about this weed. Or so I thought.

Then August came around and although the summer was cool, the Boston ivy just kept growing up the house. I knew we had some VIP types coming to stay in The Big House and I thought the place was getting a little shaggy again. Am I repeating myself? Perhaps, but I said, "I know what the poison ivy looks like now, I'll just sneak in and not touch anything and I'll be OK."

So into the junipers and yews I go with loppers and secateurs to do the clipping again. Didn't touch a thing that had three leaves on it. "There, the deed is done and I am no worse for wear," I thought.

But the next day, I felt a little itch on my right forearm. "Nah, can't be." But it did start to get seriously itchy as the day wore on and I started recalling that it really was a rather tight fit in there amongst the junipers and yews and I was a little shaky on my ladder and I might have touched something.

You guessed it, a full-blown case of the poison ivy in the month of August and this time I knew all of the drug store products I had to get to ease the itch.

So I go to work and people start saying things like, "hasn't that poison ivy cleared up yet?" or "you really should get that problem looked at." Thanks a lot for your sympathy.

Well, from this vantage point on the verandah, I see a few good lessons for myself and a few others in this world. The one thing I learned is that you really have to study hard before you jump into the bushes to do the job. I think there is a fellow stateside who would like another run at the job of running that country who could have studied harder.

I also learned that there is such a thing as a wolf in sheep's clothing. That poison ivy didn't look much different than the rest of the decorative stuff growing up the walls. A lot like the folks we keep electing. They say they are turning a new leaf, (pun intended) say they will be more transparent and say they will be more responsive to the electorate. Instead, they go to where ever we send them and do what they want and only later do we find out what itch they sent upon us. I wonder what would happen if I sent a bouquet of poison ivy to Ottawa or Toronto. I can see it now. "Bio-Terrorist Strikes from the Verandah".

So that is what I did on my summer 'vacation'. Itched like crazy but have become a lot more respectful of Mother Nature. I hope others do as well.