Somehow, the ticks keep coming up. I mean over and over and over.
We took a stroll today. In the woods. There were lots of other people strolling too, the path being well marked and part of a large botanical garden. We sat on a bench a took some family shots with the self-timer. We walked into a large field. We saw the first tick. I think we pulled a total of 5 or 6 off ourselves. It took 2 hours or so to find all of them. We would find one. Pull it off. Walk some more. Do some family stuff. Find another one. Pull it off. Etc.
K. says that ticks are something he wouldn't mind seeing extinct. Perhaps ticks have some vital purpose in the bigger picture, but it doesn't seem like it.
Caption: We had just pulled a tick off Z.'s leg and so were checking her. We stripped her down to her diaper in the middle of the crowded conservatory. Such is the power of the tick.






