Following A Moosie, Found A Tick

 Copyright 2024 by Lori-Ann Willey

While Paul rested, I took the truck and headed towards a nearby stream. I've explored that stream countless times before, but this morning, I had the want to venture deeper into the woods. With my knee still recovering from injury, I chose to start by following an old tote road to avoid any strain. Eventually, I veered off towards a wetter area. Along the way, I noticed deer tracks, droppings, and a spot where a moose had recently passed. Intrigued, I decided to follow the moose, listening for the telltale crunch of its steps, hoping to catch a glimpse before it reached the meadow-like area.

As I pushed deeper into the woods, the terrain became increasingly challenging. My feet sank into soft ground, and I navigated through thick alders. Occasionally, I heard low grunts, as if the moose invited me to respond, but I remained silent. Continuing onward, I found myself balancing unsteadily on tree roots and fragile alder branches, determined to follow the trail. Eventually, I reached a point where further progress became impossible. The moose, far more capable than I in navigating such terrain, continued gracefully, its presence occasionally audible through the trees and my own internal groans with near-fall after near-fall.  If only I had its long legs and balance!

Disappointed, I turned back, retracing my steps with careful balance. Back at the truck, I felt a sensation on my forearm. Assuming it was a fly or spider, I brushed at it absentmindedly until I realized it was a tick crawling up my arm. This was only the second time I've encountered a tick in this area, both instances occurring away from camp while navigating dense thickets.    I could do without the ticks but have to wonder if the tick missed a ride on a moosie, or hopped off and I was just the next victim.

Often, while wandering through the woods, I find myself irresistibly drawn to game trails. Every part of me longs to follow these paths, always hoping to catch a glimpse of a creature pausing to figure out what kind of animal I am. If I'm not bound by a pressing agenda, like searching for wild edibles, I often stand there, seriously debating whether I should abandon my current task to explore the trail. It’s a constant inner struggle not to redirect my focus and say to myself, “I’ll loop back around after I see where this goes.” But through these moments of diversion, I’ve learned so much—like recognizing the subtle animal track by an upturned leaf or distinguishing how animal prints vary across different landscapes, elevation changes, etc. It’s instinctive, it’s the lure and love of the woods -a passion! 

LIME WENT EVERYWHERE

Copyright 2024 by Lori-Ann Willey

LIME WENT EVERYWHERE, but mostly on the truck. Yesterday, I dropped Paul off at IVIG to save myself lots of extra steps due to the knee injury, I left him at the door to fend for himself for a few minutes while I crossed the road to pick up some lime for my garden. Our soil is quite acidic here, so I make as much compost as I can and add/make lime as a "just in case". Lime also helps deter certain pests like slugs, too, so I do use it straight as well.

I had placed the order the day before. I also placed an order for ten bags of Black Kow Manure. Normally, as most of you know, I "harvest" moose poops by the 5-gallon pail, but with Paul's shingles, I've not been able to do that this summer (thus far), so with plans on planting in my long Hugel along the driveway next spring, I opted to buy poops of the cow kind vs collecting the moosie poop kind.

I parked in the pick-up area as usual, ever-so-slowly stepped from the truck, used the bed of the truck to help me walk to the tailgate, and very carefully, climbed onto the bed. Thankfully, our truck is the style that has a drop-down section for a shorter step-up. Up I went, moved coolers around, and made room for the bag of lime and ten bags of poops. While waiting, I sat upon a cooler and enjoyed the warmth of the day. It wasn't long before I was approached asking if I could pull the truck around to the side of the building because my stuff was on a pallet and waiting for me there. If she could've heard the dreaded deep-gut groan, I think she would've recognized it as a painful one. But I put on a smile and told her I could. It took me a bit to figure out how to climb down, but I did while using the strength of my arms to bear the weight load on my knee. Thank God I'm a strong woman….think I even said, "Thank you" aloud.

Again, using the truck as a walking aid, once at the door, I used the pull-up grab bars for the same reason. I thought I'd pull it off the truck, but thankfully, they are solid-solid (American-made?) Phew! As I pulled up, the clerk was waiting for me, so I couldn't dilly-dally as I should've. Repeated the process I did. I couldn't have the stuff just plopped onto the truck all willy-nilly-like, 'cause I still had Sam's and Walmart curbside to pick up, which meant climbing onto the bed at least two more times. Upon the truck I went so I could take the bags and put each next to the cab for cooler room near the tailgate. There will be no rain in the future so the bags could stay on the truck, the coolers with food could not.

The first bag I was handed was lime, and I knew there was trouble the second I saw how it was being carried, and how soaking wet it was. I wasn't pleased, but if it held together, I could transfer it into a pail once at camp, so I said nothing when I probably should've....and they should've known better than giving me a lesser product! The second the transfer from hand-to-hand, I knew it wasn't going to work, 'cause the bag was already tearing...10 fingers went through the bag and the contents started spilling. Quickly, I set it down and told the clerk that I needed another bag and one that wasn't wet, 'cause "this isn't going to work". There was no problem, and the employee admitted, 'I wondered how that was going to work'. I wanted sooooo badly, to say, "REALLLY? And you gave it to me anyway?" I wasn't impressed, but knew that employees have bosses to answer to, and if told to hand it off anyway, what is that employee to do? At least this way, it was customer rejection. In another hand-off, the bag opened and heaped most of it onto the bed of the truck. Apologies galore from both of us, especially trying to clean it up with only hands and feet, down over the tailgate, down over the step-up helper with USB ports and rubber-coated electronics, before the rest fell onto the ground.

Once everything was loaded and I was given a dry bag of lime, it took me several minutes trying to get the stuff out of the gaps so I could fold the tailgate into a closed position again. The lime was mounded deeply. It was a chore, but I stood there, leaning on the tailgate to take the weight off my knee, and got it done with my fingers the best I could. I don't fault the clerk. I was an employee once and know that when a boss tells you to do something, you do it. I could've asked them to put the bags further on the truck for me. I could've stayed in the truck, too. I also could've asked them to brush all the lime from the truck and tailgate hinges, and I could've demanded a truck wash, as well as told her I was injured and couldn't do any of those things, and they would've done it without hesitation. I know they would've 'cause "customer comes first". However, I'm not one to be helped or care much about a dirty truck, and I’m certainly not one to bellyache over challenging work, injured or not. She had no idea I was hurting and screaming inside and that's important to me, too.

I grew up working through injuries, 'cause as my father would say, "It'll make you tough". That it did. I do what I can without further risking injury, but I'm a believer in, "you gotta keep moving" 'cause that helps the body heal, too. I did a loop in the small parking lot to turn around and as she swept up the lime from the pavement, we both grinned and wished each other a good day.

Making life better for all, one day at a time, because being rude and obnoxious is not my way. Other people matter, too. A job is a job, and in this world where so many people refuse to work and want hand-outs only, I applaud her for holding a job, even if she was covered in lime. Smiles are important, and injuries heal. It did me good to work my knee a little, too. A win-win. But, now, I'm going out with a little whisk broom and finish removing the lime that didn't bounce free of the truck on these dusty roads. ha ha ha ha Remember, you are important, but others are, too. See what happens when I rest my body….I write and bore you with long-ass stories.