I’ll admit that this mean little plant is one of the worst things about a state filled with plenty of other things that make me less than happy sometimes. I’ve spent 2009 and 2010 trying to shed light on the cool, beautiful, fascinating sides of Missouri.

Maybe it’s the violent rash that spread over my arms, ankles and legs…Maybe it’s the steroid shot in my arm or the prednisone pack…Maybe it’s that said violent rash bled through my blouse during a workshop yesterday afternoon…

but I’m kind ticked off at poison ivy right now.

Usually, I’m a huge fan of sharing photos of my Missouri antics, but I kinda thought you’d be okay without seeing my rash. My rash is enough to make me wrinkle my nose. I figured I’d spare you the cringe factor.

The Missouri Conservationist calls poison ivy “Missouri’s Most Irritating Plant”. Poison ivy is a real booger, growing in almost all conditions (shady, sunny, damp, dry) and making appearances throughout every Missouri county.

Photo Credit: Missouri River Institute, The University of South Dakota

The oil from the plant can apparently survive for years on other plants, so even if there’s no visible poison ivy in your yard, in your garden, or on the trail you’re hiking, that doesn’t mean its oil isn’t sitting there stealthily, attached to some other formerly harmless plant, waiting to attach itself to your unwitting skin.

And if you’re like me (and roughly 85% of the population), that oil will eat away at your skin, leaving an angry, blistery, unbelievably itchy trail.

My day yesterday ended with a trip to Urgent Care in Maryland Heights, Missouri, where I forked over $75.00 for a visit with a doctor who stuck me in the arm with steroids (the irony of paying to be stabbed never fails to amuse me). Another $50 (and a very sore arm) later, I left Walgreens at Dorsett and McKelvey toting nasal spray, prescription strength Allegra, and a prednisone pack, thankful for medical insurance and a job that pays for life’s unexpected necessities.

My first winter in New York, I got very sick with bronchitis, but had no medical insurance and very little money. Poison ivy is a bum deal, but I didn’t take it for granted that I could afford the medical care I needed to stop the spread of the rash.

Nor did I take it for granted that St. Louis has great frozen custard. There’s something deeply ingrained in my psyche that when I need a shot at a doctor’s office, I’ve earned an ice cream cone. So as I headed out of the city on my way back to my small Missouri hometown, I got a Reese’s Pieces concrete, and suddenly I was a lot less angry at poison ivy.

I’ve become so accustomed to seeing the same faces over and over again at work and in my tiny little town that I found myself buzzing from the energy of seeing so many different people come and go from the coffee shop today. I stopped into Sarah Carmody Photography to pick up an art print I won at the Maplewood Arts Walk a few months ago, where I had a good conversation about photography and music. My trip to the gallery was followed by a St. Louis Wine Club wine tasting at St. Louis Wine Cellars with Angela Ortmann of StL Wine Girl.

So much civilization in one day! I feel like the kid in The Nutcracker who falls asleep to exaggerated dreams of the big holiday party  hosted by her family that night…I’m sitting here in my eerily quiet house in the middle of the snowy woods of rural Missouri. My mind is slow, yawns bring sleepy tears to my eyes, and the day spent in “the city” seems no more real than dancing toy soldiers or life-sized rat kings.