On a hot and humid summer day, it’s painful to cover up, I know. The only length to which I’ve been willing to go (LOL) is capri-length, but think about it: doesn’t that expose the very part of my skin most likely to experience a brush-by encounter with something green and ouchy?

I had cause to admonish myself on this point recently, when my husband took the narrow, very unofficial trail in back of our house down to Little Rouge Creek, just to see how Nature was coming along—in shorts. An hour later he returned, his legs now become neon signs of bushwhacking danger. The welts calmed down after a while but we guess he is allergic to whatever “rough-edged grass” (his description) he walked through. You just never know, do you?