Take Michael's latest encounter with ticks. These hitchhikers were picked up at Chittering Acres, whilst attending the Steampunk wedding of the century. Chittering has been home to cattle, who harbour ticks and then LOVE abandoning ship onto Michael's luscious belly. For some reason, ticks are irresistibly attracted to his body.
This has been an ongoing issue since I first met Michael. When we were still living in the Big Smoke, we would escape to a bush block just north of Perth as often as possible. Michael was one of a group of shareholders who had bought into two hundred acres of land at Wanerie. Part of the area had been cleared and was ideal cattle country. The rest was bush, complete with kangaroos and other native animals. And lots of ticks.
I became used to removing them by the bucketload off Michael's delicate torso. The burrowing little bastards would cause discomfort after a few hours of latching onto his body. We tried all sort of techniques to thwart them. Eventually, we hit upon smothering them until they let go and could be discarded. This was achieved with the nifty use of vaseline and a band-aid over the tick. Worked like a charm.
So, there we were, headed for our first night in the Goldfields when Michael felt the unmistakable and annoying niggle of a tick attaching itself to him. In the haste to set up our camp at Karalee dam before dark, we were temporarily able to ignore the horrid little creature. And we were tired.
The tick caused Michael to have a most miserable night's sleep. In the morning, it had to be dispatched. No vaseline, but we did have a jar of Vicks Vaporub on board. I dabbed a sizable blob of the stuff on top of the tick and covered it with the band-aid. After packing up, we were on the road again towards Coolgardie and breakfast at the servo.
This treatment certainly gave the tick something else to think about. Michael noted that it was definitely moved by the experience and we had high hopes it would release its hold on Michael very soon.
At Coolgardie, we ate our fill and took full advantage of the divine and spotless bathroom facilities. Unfortunately, the bloody tick was given a reprieve as most of the Vicks was washed off during Michael's enthusiastic showering.
Which is why, halfway through our day's driving, I found myself with my head in Michael's lap...The tick had firmly reattached itself on Michael's tummy once again. I have no idea why we didn't stop by the side of the road to attend to it once more.
The Vicks was sourced from the glovebox. The new band-aid was taken from our medical kit. Then, displaying my physical prowess for the entire highway to see, I lay across Michael, pulled up his shirt, removed the saturated band-aid, smeared a glob of Vicks on the tick's backside and applied the fresh, dry band-aid. Whilst I was carrying out this process, we were passed by a roadtrain. We were driving along, Michael with a smile of relief on his face whilst I had my head in his lap...Beautiful.
Like it or not, I'd cracked the big time of compromising situations. I expect the truckie has had a field day reporting on two grey nomads trundling along in a faded green Jackaroo partaking in some surreptitious afternoon delight.
What the hell. Adventure before dementia!
And then we discovered the second tick...
In the beginning, there was Wanerie...and ticks...
and swags...
and birthday parties in the bush...
Michael at his thinnest with Lucky, his Dad...
some random woman trying to get a tick...
camping now involves our queen sized stretcher bed, inflatable mattress and lots of cuddling...
in places like Karalee dam, where the first tick from Chittering made itself known!
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