Chiggers and Commuting

First, I realize that my mention of chigger bites last post may have been misleading – I did not get the bites while tanning in the backyard. In fact, tanning in the backyard is probably one of the safest things I could be doing. The chigger bites are from working out in the field. Chiggers are practically microscopic and they like to hang out under tight-fitting clothing, such as your socks, underwear, and bra. However, since I am apparently so delicious, I have chigger bites going all the way up my legs. Fortunately I only have a couple above my waist, but I don’t expect that to last very long. The really annoying thing is that chigger bites itch 10 times more than mosquito bites (something to do with their saliva). So here I am with more chigger bites than I’ve ever had mosquito bites… and they itch a whole lot worse. I feel like I’m in some deep circle of hell when I’m lying in bed and the itching starts to spread. Don’t know if I’ve ever had to use so much self-control in my life (to be fair, I feel like I’m not actually using that much control, which is evident by the dozens of bites that I’ve scratched open by now). I was told that putting sulfur on my clothing (socks, in particular) would keep the chiggers away. I don’t know how effective that is because I have SO many bites at this point that I can’t tell if I have new ones or not. Plus, the smell of sulfur does not come out of clothing, even after washing it… several times. So I’m conflicted about whether to keep using the sulfur or not. I guess I’ll try it a few more times and see if I notice a difference. It’s not like I could smell any worse… :-P

 

Now, something I’ve been meaning to write about for a while but didn’t get the proper motivation until this past weekend – I absolutely love the long drive into town. Okay, I don’t love the fact that town is so far away, but when I do go to town I always love the drive. From our gate there are exactly 4 turns to get to Starbucks, but it’s a 30 minute drive. The first 25 minutes are basically on the same road (the first one dead ends and you have to turn, but basically you don’t need to think about where you are going for those first 25 minutes) – no traffic lights. That means that I can just relax, listen to music, and do some thinking. It’s such a nice and beautiful little stretch that I don’t even speed like a maniac (aka my usual self). In fact, most of the time I find that I’m going under the speed limit! Plus, people are so friendly on those little country roads! Some people give a little wave when you pass them in the opposite direction. How awesome is that?? I’ve got it down to the Texas wave – just lifting a couple fingers off the steering wheel. I totally fit in here.

 

This past weekend I appreciated that drive even more because I happened to be at the grocery store when they announced that there was fresh French bread (I swear these are connected). Naturally I ran across the store to grab a loaf. Now back at home in California the grocery store is less than 5 minutes from my house – that is perfect because the bread is still piping hot when I get home. But here, that 30-minute drive will have allowed my bread to reach an unacceptably cool temperature. Fortunately that wonderful drive that I take is pretty empty of traffic, so I started tearing into my hot-out-of-the-oven French bread just after leaving the main street. “Why not eat it in the parking lot,” you might ask. I couldn’t eat it in the parking lot because I was too busy scarfing down a piece of German chocolate cake. Yeah… that happened. But anyways, I hadn’t eaten in over six hours (besides the cake), so hot bread was like a little piece of heaven. I started tearing chunks off and stuffing my face, amazed at how delicious fresh, warm bread could be. When I got that loaf down to a reasonable size, I just started ripping hunks off with my teeth, like some kind of savage. These hunks were bigger than my mouth, so I’m sitting there with bread hanging out of my mouth, not unlike the cows that I sometimes run into with grass hanging out of their mouths. If I were on a road with two lanes in each direction, or even the same road but with a lot more traffic, I probably would not have scarfed that bread down in such a caveman-like way. The reason that drive is so perfect for wild bread-scarfing is because I’m able to do it in a way that provides momentary entertainment for the other drivers without completely being like an animal in a zoo. By that second part I mean that there are no people driving right next to/in front of me watching as I enjoy my deliciously warm bread. Instead, I’d like to think that I put a smile on the faces of those few drivers who passed me in the opposite direction. They, like me, were probably just enjoying the scenic drive into town, getting ready to wave at the approaching driver, when they get a few seconds to realize that she’s scarfing down an entire loaf of bread like a jaguar eating its prey. “Honey, was she just waving with a loaf of French bread?” Or better yet, “hey, she’s got the right idea!” I can only hope that’s what they were saying.

 

Thank you, Texas, for the wonderful commute you have given me!