For several days my arms were red and quite itchy. In all fairness, David did comment on them and asked if he should find some lotion for me. I slapped some aloe gel on the irritated spots and tried to ignore them. It was at church that a mother-like comment was made by a person who grew up in Brooklyn, of all places. Neil asked, “Is that poison ivy?”
Bingo! Why didn’t I think of that? I know why. Beth pointed out several poison ivy plants, and I stayed far away from them. There must have been others that I didn’t see. The internet suggested making a paste of equal parts baking soda and water to apply to the affected areas. My arms now look like a clown face with stark white makeup. Whether white or red, my arms could be the laughing stock of any gathering. Thank you, Mother Neil, for a correct diagnosis.
I didn’t take a photo of David while we ate lunch, so I got down on the floor for a selfie as he half-reclined in a chair.