2012 Bringing in the New Year- This is WAR

It started with an itch. An itch to clear out the chest high brush from our backyard. We (singular "we" implying Ryan doing all the work) are working hard to put in a cool patio and grass area, and I had been wanting to clean up the hillside section in the back yard for a while. So, on New Years Day, December 31st, I decided to begin. Fueled by an aggressive passion to see results immediately, I cut and dragged armfuls of dry brush into a large pile. As I plodded around in the native grasses, toyon, coyote bush, and sage, yanking out roots and sticks that had probably not been touched in over 20 years, I felt a foreboding sense of danger. I felt like I was in the movie Avatar. I was the evil American, pilaging and plundering the innocent, pristine landscape for my own gain (actually, I've never seen Avatar, but the plot is pretty predictable). Every time I dismembered a happily growing weed or bush I imagined a rattlesnake jumping out and biting me as the plants fought back. Little did I know, they were fighting back. It was just in a much sneakier way.

Barely four hours later, Ryan and I were enjoying a VIP showing of the new Sherlock Holmes movie with a glass of wine, and I began to feel an itch. It started on the inside of my left arm and whispered of...you guessed it, poison oak. Less than 24 hours later, I had oozing blisters on both arms and my left arm especially, looked like a swollen, giant sausage. This was going to be a bad one. Nature was fighting back.

It was stealth. I'll give it that. "How did it accomplish it's gory task?" you may ask. "Camille, you know what poison oak looks like, how did this happen?"

One word, camouflage.

The plant that normally looks like this.

Looked more like this.

(The ravaged battlefield....uuugh...the memories)

I had only heard legends and stories of such sneaky ways so I grew careless, assuming I would see my enemy ahead of time. (I know, I know, we all know what happens when you ass-u-me. Apparently it's true)

Thankfully, I am armed. Technological advances have come a long way in the fight against

poison oak. This has been my arsenal.

It helps, but I can hear the backyard taunting me and laughing.

"Ha! Who's hurting now!?" it's saying to me.

It's true. Even when I went in the back yard to take the picture for this blog, I felt a sense of shame. Like I should hide my head in case it notices how miserable I am right now and thinks it won.

Oh, but wait till spring. You may have won this battle, but I will win this war!