I thought I was immune to poison ivy.   So many times when I was growing up my sister and I were in the same places and she would develop horrible poison ivy and I had none.   So when I started to do yard work a few weeks ago and was pulling ivy, it never occurred to me that some of the ivy might be of the poison variety.   I did wash my hands carefully when I came indoors but did not use the brown soap that my parents had always instructed us to use if we suspected we had come in contact with poison ivy and did not scrub under my rings.   I noticed a few scratches on my wrist and shin but I thought that they were likely from working near the rose bushes.

Two days later the wretched rash appeared and I learned the truth of “Leaves of three, let them be.”   As the rash spread and spread I realized the futility of over the counter treatments and sought help at the nearby walk-in clinic.   The doctor took one look at me and said “I will give you everything I can.”   A shot, steroid pills (dashing my Olympic dreams) and expensive ointments, and three weeks later the rash is finally fading.   I’m not sure the treatments hastened my recovery or if the rash simply had to run its course.  As I was recuperating I read the latest issue of Women’s Day magazine which ironically included an article on how to recognize poison ivy.  With it as a guide I searched my yard and am posting these pictures as a public service announcement.

We researched various means  of killing the poison ivy plants and learned that the Spanish Angora goat loves to eat poison ivy, but housing one did not seem feasible in our suburban neighborhood, certainly not until we had fixed the broken gate on our fenced back yard.   We sprayed but it seemed to have no effect.   Then I sprayed the plants with salt water and the leaves immediately started to shrivel up.   It was like watching the wicked witch of my yard being doused with a pail of water.   I wish the rash could have been cured as quickly.

Carey and I were both off today so we went to the China Buffet in South Plainfield for lunch.   It’s a real bargain – three buffet lines for $5.99 for lunch and the food is delicious as well.   At the end of the meal, I grabbed a fortune cookie for each of us, handed Carey’s to him, and opened mine, expecting to learn the secrets of what the summer would hold for me.  Instead, I opened an empty cookie.  There was no fortune.   I felt a cold shadow pass over me – did no fortune mean no future?  Carey kindly offered his fortune “Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier” but by the rules of Chinese fortune cookies once the cookies have been dealt the die is cast.   Besides, even with the utmost optimism to multiply my fortune,  anything times zero would still be zero.

I have decided to interpret my lack of fortune in a different way from the gloomy thoughts I had at first.   No fortune means that my future, my summer,  my year, are up to me to make them what they will be.  So maybe I will take Carey’s fortune after all and use optimism to multiply the plans I make to create a future far better than any fortune cookie could foretell.