Batman has his Bat Cave, Superman has The Fortress of Solitude, Spiderman has his web . . . ( I Googled where Spiderman lives and it says he lives in Forest Hills, Queens, NY. They actually give a street address, 20 Ingram Street. Who Knew?)
Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that every super hero has a "home base" and in the case of Prednisone Man, (aka "P" man) his lair is The Farm. The farm has a street address in the outskirts of Gladstone, MI. It is about as rural as you can get without living in the middle of a forest or on top of a mountain. It is lovely, quiet and a great place for a super hero to reside.
As with any lair it does have it's own very special features. Lots of open space guarded by a whole bunch of Bald Eagles. I could guess that these eagles have some super powers but I wouldn't even begin to imagine what they are. Perhaps the ability to perch and balance their huge bodies on a 6 inch fence post might be considered a super power or spotting a mouse hiding in the grass from 50 feet up in the air is pretty amazing. Whatever powers they posses they are perfect for living on The Farm.
Another of our special protections is the swamp that surrounds us. I have yet to figure out how land that is on top of a huge bluff can be swampy. Doesn't all the water drain down to the lake? The Man has tried to explain this phenomena to me but I still don't get it. The area up here is very swampy. Some of the neighbors were telling a story about when the highway was being built many years ago the construction crew needed sand to fill in the area where the road would be. They dug up a whole bunch of sand from someones property and the ground water filled in the hole that was left creating the small lake that is just down the road from here. If you decide to take a hike in the woods you need to be prepared to find yourself wading through swamp at some point. There's a hiking trail just up the road from us with wooden boardwalks so you can hike. The ground is too soft and mushy to just walk on a dirt trail. (Why would you make a hiking trail through a swamp is beyond me. I have yet to walk this trail because I have been told that there is an occasional bear or two residing out there. I guess they don't mind getting their feet wet.)
In addition to our various safe guards that keep "P" Man protected in his lair it seems that this property also possesses Magical Powers ! Or at least that is what "P" is trying to tell me. According to The Man his property has NO wood ticks on it ! This fact flies in the face of all that I read in the paper and see on the TV. According to those sources the entire state of Michigan and neighboring Wisconsin are being over run with ticks and mosquitos. BUT . . . not here in "P" Man's lair. (The news does not state this fact, only "P" man says this is true.) The fact that we had the incident that I wrote about several weeks ago with The Man's grand daughter and friend being covered in ticks after going into the woods on the property does not change The Man's mind. Any time I tell that story to someone "P" Man says I am exaggerating, there were NO ticks. (I was there picking the little blood sucking bastards off the kids clothes. I KNOW what I saw !). But no, no . . . there are NO ticks on The Farm.
Fast forward to yesterday morning when I woke up at 4 AM. I knew I wanted to go to 8:30 mass so my internal alarm woke me at 4. (I need to fix that alarm) I got up and went into the other bedroom so as to not wake The Man. I climbed up on the other bed was sitting on there going through mail on my computer when I feel a tickle on the back of my neck just at the hair line. I reached back to feel around and I felt a small bump. At first I thought I just had another little patch of dry skin growing back there but then it MOVED ! TICK !!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON MY HEAD !!!! IN THE BEDROOM !!!!!!!!! ON THE BED !!!! It is at this point that I am ready to get a blow torch and burn the bed, the pillows, sheets and comforter and possibly the entire room and/or house. There is a freaking tick in my hair !!! But I did remain calm. I took the tick, (a very tiny little bugger) and flushed it down the toilet. ( I considered taping it to a piece of paper to show The Man but I didn't want it to escape) Fast forward to me coming home from church at 10:00 and sitting down to have breakfast with The Man, who is now sitting at his usual place in the kitchen. You know that the first thing I said was, "I had a tick in my hair this morning!" To which "P" Man says, (I swear to you this is a quote) "No", (he is looking right at me with a look that says, "you are making this up".) I reply that I did indeed have a tick in my hair! To which he asks, "Are you SURE it was a tick?" Like I don't know what a freaking tick looks like !!!!!!!!!! By now I have lost all the peace and serenity that I gained from going to church and am ready to grab "P" Man by the throat and strangle him. (I KNEW I should have taped the little blood sucker to paper.) I gritted my teeth and told The Man in no uncertain terms that I DID have a tick on me and it came from his property because I had not been anywhere for days except around the yard. His response . . . "No. You must have picked it up somewhere because we don't have any ticks here."
And so I need to say to all of you . . . please stop sending me all those ticks in the mail. That has got to be where they are coming from because "P" Man says they don't live here in his lair.
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