So I've been in the States for about a week now. Yesterday evening was the first down time since arriving what with Thanksgiving and all the family and what not. (If you're wondering why that sentence sounded funny, it's because I'm trying to take on the vernacular of the locals...you know, to try to blend in). Sunday evening down time means relaxing with a little football, some leftovers, and some knitting...basically lying around the house in comfy clothes recovering from the long weekend. I grab some leggings out of my suitcase, borrow a big sweatshirt from mom and get busy on a new poncho.
A couple hours later, I feel an itch just below my left knee. I drop my drawers to have a look. Hmm...looks like I cut myself shaving. I don't remember cutting myself...I don't remember shaving my legs. It's nice having the extra warmth that leg hair provides, what with it being late November and winter and the Midwest and what not. Anyway, I have a closer look and damn if I don't recognize what that little itchy spot on my knee is. Yep, a tick. A tick was trying to suck blood from my knee. Unsuccessfully, I might add, what with it being my knee and what not.
I guess you can get the girl out of Maberga but you can't get the ticks out of her leggings.