We had some welcome rain on the weekend. On our walk we came by a meadow full of huge marguerites, wild bellflowers and buttercups, and to my surprise the first scattered, bright blue cornflowers. I'm still busy with painting for the #maykind challenge and yesterday I finally planted my cucumber seedlings into the greenhouse and soon the weather should be stable enough to also plant the tomatoes in the outside beds. This year it is exceptional tricky, because of the abundance of ticks we are having. I think it might have to do with the floodings we had last autumn. I was already shocked when I found six ticks on my clothes in a period of no more than three quarters of an hour while cutting the berry plants. But when we had 26 ticks on a short walk on a forest path, I knew that this will be an extreme year and to be honest, I don't know how to manage this. There is this constant question mark in my head since a few years, something I can not wrap my head around. How should one be able to connect with nature when every step outside is such a risk to one's own life? Everyone who had been seriously ill from a tick bite will understand what I mean. Last month a dear friend of my sisters fiancé committed suicide after battling with severe symptoms of neuroborreliosis for 18 years! It is a hell of a sickness. It destroys you from the inside in a way that makes you feel completely trapped and out of control of your body functions and brain. Like torture, but with no hope for salvation. Sometimes I really feel lonely and stumped with this theme.
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