Friday, June 10

Blech * Shiver * Cringe * Ack

Yesterday, Zorak, the three Terroristitos and I drove to Elkmont to see the inside of the Mystery House. Third time's a charm! I suppose, technically, the old realtor was right: no, we really don't want the house. Where she was wildly, painfully wrong was in her insistence that we'd pay for it without seeing it.

Yeah - we didn't want to buy it without knowing exactly how bad it is. It's nice to know, first hand, that the place is structurally unsound - as in, Zorak won't let us live there while we build - as in, we couldn't in good conscience allow the current tenants to live there if we owned it. It's bad. There are termite mounds IN the house. The trusses are loosely scabbed together pieces of wood just waiting for another Isabel type storm to come inland. There's no foundation under half of it. There is ONE flat-floored room; every other room veers downward from there. Most of the rooms reek of urine and mold. Both are visible in most rooms. Actually, the structure is a liability and the property would be better off without it. We might see if we can offer to buy just the land, minus the house and one acre surrounding it.

That, however, isn't the cause of the total ickiness that pervades me even today.

The tenant just got dogs. Cute little friendly puppies. Precious little things - they even convinced James that he'd sure like to have a dog. The boys sat in the kitchen (the flat room in the house) and played with the dogs while Zorak and I did recon on the rest of the place. (Hallelujah! The great cat debate has ended!) As we left, one of the precious little puppies got out. I tried to lead her back by her collar, but no luck, so I had to pick her up and carry her back into the house. I rubbed her head, then put my hands gently around her middle...

AND IT WAS LUMPY WITH TICKS!!!!!!!!!!!

*gag* BLAAACCHHHKKKKK! I haven't a strong enough command of the english phonetic system to reproduce the noises that came from my body. Many of them may have been Yiddish in nature, though - there was a lot of phlegmy gagging type sounds.

The drive home was the longest it's ever been. We did a quick tick check before getting in, but, well, we didn't figure stripping everyone down right there in Tick Country would be very wise. For an hour, I pictured ticks leaving the boys' bodies in droves to make nests (or whatever they do - burrows, hollows, covens) in our seats. Ugh.

We did another tick check last night before bed, and all was clear. ...Or so I thought. This morning I found a teeny-tiny tick on James' neck. It looked like lint, it was so tiny and all those legs sticking out looked like fuzz. I tried to get it off, and I beheaded it. DRAT! EW! *This would be a good place to picture a Steve Martin-type physical response.* Now, every stray hair, every string from clothing, feels like a menacing tick - the one I just know I missed, creeping up my body toward my hair. *shudder*

Oh yuck. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.

Yuck.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

7 comments:

melissa said...

You're lucky you didn't come out covered with FLEAS! Now, THAT's a problem!

Thom said...

Yeh, fleas are worse.At least the ticks are usually visible to the naked eye. But, I really feel for you! I live in Tick County, USA, myself!

Like it or not, DEET is the only answer!

Amy said...

Okay, I must poke fun. You want to live on a ranch and raise cattle and let the small people run free on the land, experiencing the wonders of nature, and you gagged over ticks on a dog's back? Get ready, Dy. Your tick-pickin' days ain't over, you're just gettin' started.

Heather said...

Heebie Jeebies is what I've got going over here. I'm going to stay in my high mountain desert where I don't have to deal with fleas OR ticks (thank you very much. I was enjoying a candy bar until I read this *G*)

XOXO

Libby said...

Ew.

I feel your pain to some extent -- I've been spending my lunch hours this summer walking facefirst into spider webs on the nice woodsy path near my office -- but ticks are WAY ickier.

Emily said...

Yes, having grown up in Tick County, I remember well the nightly "tick check". Sitting on the floor while Mom sat on the bed sifting through our hair. I am sure we looked like a normal family of monkeys.

Kate said...

Oh my golly I am shuddering with disgust. I am SO totally with you on the Tick Ick as Pupp calls it. Oh MAN that is just gross!! I feel for you, I really do.

Kate