An English In Kentucky


















May 15th 2010    Tim Candler

    Ticks have dignity, I suppose.   I refer here to the many legged creature that crawls first and then hangs on.  The tiny ones are the more insidious because being almost invisible it is possible to imagine them everywhere.  And for a day or so I am left twitching in an uncontrolled manner.

     I remember clients who disapproved of Ivy, because they believed Ivy provided the perfect cover for those snakes that apparently lie in wait for children and little dogs.   Invariably ground was covered with mulch and everything had to be very precise and neat and so routine driven that each year pink Geranium would go in exactly the same spot, and woe betide if the gardener's rusty truck was parked in the wrong place.  


    In a sense I can understand why Ivy might be perceived as a place for snakes to hide.   It has a dappled green, and a depth of leaf through which things might slither in ambush.  And quite conceivable that the cull of children and little dogs by snake is so ordinary a matter that news makers have long since given up reporting upon its incidence.

     And I suppose the same can be said of tick attacks.   Hardly worth a mention unless a description of the body part attacked produces tea-party reaction.

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