There are many aspects of life that I do not understand. People say "Everything is here for a purpose and everything that happens has a purpose." I am not prepared to argue that point but if it is true I must have been left out of the loop when some things were explained.
I can't think of a purpose for poison ivy. The other day BW and I were doing some yard work. I paid the price for several days with bumps and itching on my hands. It grew on me like a colony of E.Coli and I was room temperature Canadian beef.
What is the deal with hair? I have hair where I don't need it and none where I do need it. The hair bailed out of my head and began to grow on my torso. Then the hair in my nose and ears began to grow longer. I never had to trim my nose hairs before but I began to look like a walrus with big tusk hair extruding from my nose. Now I have to trim the hair in my ears or I begin to look like a werewolf. One day I pressed down on my mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea. I am going to let my nose and ear hair grow and then tie it in a bow across the top of my head.
What is the purpose of a tornado? Every spring they come back like a belch from a bad onion. I saw a man interviewed on TV whose house had been ravaged by a tornado; his family injured. He said in a tearful voice, "I know everything has a purpose and happens for a reason, but I am really struggling with this." I had to agree with him.
What is the purpose for lightening and thunder? When I was in my salad days they would scare the "bejeebers" out of me. We kiddos slept upstairs which put us closer to the lightning and thunder. Several times we made a quick dash downstairs in search of protection. We crawled into bed with mom and dad. I remember feeling safer than a baby's butt in a cradle. Later on our children did the same thing. Old timers used to say that thunder was the tater wagon crossing the wooden bridge.
My young body has grown old and much of my muscle has turned to fat and my wonderfully chiseled high boned face has become bruised with the bitter blows of time and I still can't think of a purpose in the grand scheme of things for chiggers. One time many years ago we picked blackberries on the farm. By the time we got back to the house BW was jumping, scratching and caterwauling and making moves that break dancers fantasize about. She crashed through the door ripped her clothes off and screaming like a band saw cutting aluminum siding she hit the shower. Too late. She was number one in the program for the Chigger Digger Team for several days. Misery came to live with her.
What is the purpose of those critters?
What is the purpose for these things? Beats me.
Larry Vandeventer grew up north of Calvertville, graduated from Worthington High School and can be reached at Goosecrick@aol.com or at 6860 Sunrise Drive, Plainfield, Ind., 46168 or by phone at (317) 839-7656. He has written five books about his experiences.