What Rhymes with MAINE . . .

It's not pain, stain or drain, though I can make associations with each of these words quickly enough. I'll give you a hint. It's a form of precipitation. You got it! And so do we. It began raining last night and I awoke to a magnificent thunderstorm. I thought the pines were going to come crashing down on the cabin. It was still raining steadily when I awoke at 5:00am and again still at 8:30am. It finally let up around 10:00am, so I went out with my camera, a couple lenses and my tripod to photograph the swollen brook now loudly charging down behind the cabin.

Now I have to mention another small difficulty associated with life here in Maine. It rhymes with Mojito, but isn't as fun. You got it! And so do we. And apparently the species are different enough here that when they bite us Midwesterners, our bodies aren't used to their specific coastal juices and our immune systems react a bit overzealously. I was bitten on the back right side of my neck a few days ago. Yesterday I noticed a swollen lump in my neck, about an inch from a large bite. It seemed like a gland or lymph node or something, and it hurt. After my shower this morning, I discovered it was swollen even larger, and upon further inspection, I discovered another node, pea-sized, in my collarbone area. I try to tell myself that it's probably that large mosquito bite back there so close to a subcutaneous white blood cell defense center, but I have also been known to have a hypochondriacal bent. I begin to worry.

I am palpating my neck every few minutes. This isn't helping and the swelling is going up, if anything. I make Dean feel it. He says it's nothing. But then again, he thought the death of three of my Helichtotrichon sempervirens was nothing. Sempervirens, my eyeball - that was a disaster.

I find a phone book and call the local medical center here in town. The receptionist listens to my problem and tries to find a nurse. She can't locate one, but promises to have one call me back as she takes down my name and number. I put some Afterbite on my little wounds and sit down to treat myself to a bowl of Captain Crunch peanut butter cereal, which I bought the day before as a special vacation treat. I am still nervous so I eat another bowl. And another. There's no more Captain Crunch peanut butter cereal left when the kids start to wander in, searching for food. "Awwwww. Who ate all the good cereal?" Sorry.

Soon the phone rings and I jump up to answer it. The nurse listens to my complaint and assures me that my body is just trying to fight off this invasion caused by the mosquitoes. She asks where we're from, and when I say Wisconsin, she says that the bugs out here are probably different enough that our bodies are trying harder to get rid of this new variant of poison. "Give it about three days, and it should begin to go away on its own."

I am reassured, so this is when I head outside with the camera equipment. I wear my jacket with the collar turned up and the zipper zipped to the tippy top. I march through a lot of underbrush to get to the brook and then end up following the water all the way down into town, where it empties out into a pond full of reeds and frogs behind the town fire station. I roll up my jeans a bit and wade into the pond to gain access to a large rock. I climb up to get a better shot at some lovely water grass, then I wade back to shore and take the road through town to our place.

While walking, I start to feel a stinging sensation in my left thigh. I don't see anything stuck to my jeans, but I pick up my pace so I can get home faster. There's a huge, steep hill to ascend just before our driveway and I am beginning to sweat, but I don't dare take my jacket off for fear of more taquitoes. When I get home, I rip off my jeans and find hives sprinkled across my leg. What the heck? What did I do? I had my pants on the entire time I was out there. I go hunt down the Afterbite again and begin dabbing away. This helps. A few minutes later and a couple pop up on my other leg. There are none down where I rolled up my jeans to wade.

The sun came out for a couple minutes today, in a rather halfhearted way, but it quickly dodged back behind the clouds and the fog settled comfortably in its place. We went beachcombing and out to lunch, which is about when I started to notice the Captain Crunch effect. Does anyone out there know what I'm talking about? The Captain Crunch effect happens to folks who don't normally eat little, hard, round balls of sugary cereal for breakfast. A few hours later you notice that your tongue and the roof of your mouth are inexplicably sore. You ponder this fact for a while and then realize it was caused by the pleasing sensation of eating those hard pellets, mashing them against the tender insides of your gums and palate. It's 8:30 at night and my tongue still hurts.

So, swollen glands, hives, CC effect, and still no clear sky. Ah, vacation.