OK, that first bout of poison oak, when I took the nude photo of myself, was totally deserved. But this second one sucked.
Poison oak is particularly hard to recognize this time of year, when the leaves have disappeared but the twigs still carry the rash-inducing oils. I had been bushwacking north of Bolinas and had gotten it badly on my forearms. Within a few days, it had spread everywhere on my body, complete with weeping scabs so bad that I had to visit the hospital. The good news was that it wasn’t infected; the bad, that I’d have to wait 2 weeks or longer before I got through the worst of the itching. What could I do? I bit my tongue and drew another oatmeal bath.
Lying in the tub, trying not to itch, I decided it was time to try on a different costume.