Leaves of three...

 The word for the week:  POISON IVY.  And a rash so severe that it landed Fran in the ER.  Now for the eradication.  Fran wrapped herself up in a homemade biohazard suit to clean up the poison ivy that had been pulled with weeds and was waiting to be picked up.  Oh, and the vines that were tossed in the fire pit.  Inadvertently burning the poison ivy - that would have been awful.  Not up to the task of destroying the remaining dreaded plants, Fran grabbed the red spray paint to mark all the poison ivy in the yard to warn others away from it.  Like so many things (for instance, oh good Lord, ticks!), once you see something you see it everywhere.  Driving to the store, poison ivy is glimpsed lurking along the perimeters of the forest preserve.  It's in the grandparents' yard.  It's everywhere.

I have not been much help.  This is the first time I've consciously looked at poison ivy.  I really thought it would be a lot smaller and lower to the ground.  Some sort of toxic shamrock.  Proportions confuse me.  I thought that the dreaded Emerald Ash Borer was some huge scary bug - probably about the size of a gerbil.   Then I saw one pinned in a display at the Field Museum.  Not sooo big.  I could have been overlooking them for years.

Lots of shopping on the docket this weekend.  Bed, Bath and Beyond last night to get a shower gift for my nephew's fiancee's bridal shower today.  Tomorrow will find us heading out to find birthday gifts for Baby Madeline's first birthday and Bridget's 29th.  With a stop along the way to pick up some herbicide. 


Fran (and the minions who she pressed into service) had been knocking herself out to beautify the yard.  And her reward is a wretched rash.  Oh, well, summer is young...