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Rhipicephalus Sanguineus (Brown Dog Tick)
Location - Brisbane Australia
Pictured here is a young Rhipicephalus, or possibly a small adult male... But Im leaning more towards nymph seeing as he was only 2mm (And barely)
I was planning on letting him gorge, and taking progress shots ! But, alas, ticks are slow feeding creatures that can go un-noticed for days or weeks, taking up to 10 days to become fully engorged.
And once noticed, they are quite noticeable !
(Think when you watch a mosquito bite compared to when they sneak one)
Itchiness and a dull pain where the only symptoms i felt, and im not sure how much of it was my own mind's making !
Nevertheless, my experiment plans where thwarted when my partner noticed the little parasite, and quickly and skillfully removed him whilst 'taking a look' !
As I was trying to take the preceding shot I felt a sharp pinch on my arm... There was this ladybug munching on my arm...
That's not dry skin, its wood dust as I was working in the shop all day and I guess I didn't clean up very well before my afternoon walk..
Vacation aftermath: chigger bites on Xy's back. She had over fifty bites. I had something like 15, mostly on my ankles. Thanks, Indiana!
Update: As of August 2009 this is my most viewed photo. Later that month, this became my first photo to have scored more than 10,000 views.
Update: Since this photo gets so much traffic, I can only assume folks might be interested in the hot water treatment. It works for poison ivy, fire ant stings and — yes chigger bites.
Something crawled into bed with me last night and gave me a souvenir.
This is the first time I have ever gotten a blister from a bug bite. It doesn't itch that much. I just hope it doesn't get bigger or scar.
Freaking Korean bugs...
An extraordinary sandwich shop, I presume . . .
This image was taken with a Mamiya 645 ProTL using Kodak Portra 160 film, scanned by an HP Scanjet G4050 and digitally rendered with Photoshop.
When we were kids, I used to tell my sister that she was born in the meat market, when in fact she came into the world in Barts next door.
Meat has been traded at Smithfield Market for over 800 years, making it one of the oldest markets in London. A livestock market occupied the site as early as the 10th century. This expanded over the centuries to meet the demands of the growing population of the City.
The present Smithfield meat market on Charterhouse Street was established by the 1860 Metropolitan Meat and Poultry Market Act. It's a large market with permanent buildings, designed by architect Sir Horace Jones, who was also responsible for Billingsgate and Leadenhall Markets. Work on the Central Market (seen above) began in 1866 and was completed in November 1868 at a cost of £993,816 (£66 million in today's money). The Grade II listed main wings (known as East and West Market) were separated by the Grand Avenue, a wide roadway roofed by an elliptical arch with decorations in cast iron. At the two ends of the arcade, four huge statues represent London, Edinburgh, Liverpool and Dublin and bronze dragons hold the City's coat of arms. At the corners of the market four octagonal pavilion towers were built, each with a dome and carved stone griffins.
As the market was built, a cut and cover railway tunnel was constructed beneath the market to create a triangular junction with the railway between Blackfriars and Kings Cross through the Snow Hill tunnel — closed in 1916, but now used for Thameslink services. This allowed the construction of extensive railway sidings, beneath Smithfield park, and the transfer of animal carcases to the Cold Store building, or direct to the meat market via lifts. These sidings closed in the 1960s, and are now used as a car park, accessed through a cobbled descent in the centre of Smithfield park. Today, much of the meat comes to the market by road.
Approximately 120,000 tons of produce pass through the market each year. As well as meat and poultry, products such as cheese, pies, and other delicatessen goods are available. Buyers including butchers, restaurateurs and caterers are able see the goods for themselves and drive away with what they've bought. Bargaining between buyers and sellers at Smithfield sets the guidelines for meat and poultry prices throughout the UK.
The market has recently undergone a £70 million refurbishment to equip it for the future and enable it to comply with modern hygiene standards. The ancient meat market has been transformed into one of the most modern in Europe.
The process of change at Smithfield has not been restricted to the buildings alone, but has extended to the whole environment and working practices that had hardly changed in 130 years. The result has been the creation of a thoroughly modern temperature controlled environment inside a magnificent Victorian building.
Smithfield described by Charles Dickens in Oliver Twist (1838):
'It was market morning. The ground was covered nearly ankle deep with filth and mire; and a thick steam perpetually rising from the reeking bodies of the cattle, and mingling with the fog, which seemed to rest upon the chimney tops, hung heavily above ...
Countrymen, butchers, drovers, hawkers, boys , thieves, idlers, and vagabonds of every low grade, were mingled together in a dense mass: the whistling of drovers, the barking of dogs, the bellowing and plunging of beasts, the bleating of sheep, and the grunting and squealing of pigs; the cries of hawkers, the shouts, oaths, and quarrelling on all sides, the ringing of bells, and the roar of voices that issued from every public house; the crowding, pushing, driving, beating, whooping and yelling; the hideous and discordant din that resounded from every corner of the market; and the unwashed, unshaven, squalid, and dirty figures constantly running to and fro, and bursting in and out of the throng, rendered it a stunning and bewildering scene which quite confused the senses.'
www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/03/21/crab-bites-man/
Back in the old days, when crusty middle-aged reporters sat around in the newspaper office and sent out cub reporters like Jimmy Olsen in the days of Superman to cover stories that were not worth scraping shoe leather on the pavement, there was a phrase that comically described the frustration of a slow-news day. The headline would read: Man Bites Dog.
This feels like a slow-news day to me. Being Sunday, I was preparing myself for a day of relative rest. I counted on my new wireless Internet connection to allow me to sit in the comfort of my office/bedroom and annoy you. Sometime I feel like The Cheap Detective. If I had a proper desk, there would be a bottle of rot-gut whiskey in bottom drawer. A black fedora would sit rakishly on my head and I'd have a Smith & Wesson .38 Police Special tucked under my arm in a well-worn shoulder holster. The door would open and a gorgeous dame would saunter in on four inch stilettos wearing a fire-engine red dress. She'd give the the once-over and purr, "I need a man with steel in his backbone." I'd say, "Have a seat, beautiful." . . .
Well, see, that's what happens when your best plans run awry. Of course, PNG Power cut the power. Of course, the generator at the office failed to start automatically. Of course, that meant that I couldn't get on line and, of course, that meant that I had to drive into town to start the generator and fire up the network again. That's half of the day shot. There will be no nap. Having eliminated TELIKOM from my life, PNG Power is my new enemy. They are now collecting their money up=front with the new Isi Pe (That's Easy-Pay" in English) meters and they still can't get it in mind that one of the functions of a power supplier is to supply more-or-less continuous power. They should call those meters Easy-Rip-Off.
No wonder my mind is wandering.
On Saturday I had a boat load of friends, but I was the only diver. Never mind. I like solo dives. I can spend as long as I want fiddling with my camera to get The Perfect Shot without worrying that somebody else is urgently wanting to move on.
Okay, let's get to the crab. There's got to be a crab in here somewhere. I was diving off the beach at Wongat Island trying to get shots in the surging, sand-filled water. That means getting close to the subject. I was going for a shot of a scorpionfish and I had my hand loosely draped over a little knob of coral. Something tickled my thumb. Then something bit my thumb. Hard! Look at the evil grin on the face of this little crab. "Nyyaaaa, think you're a big tough guy, eh? I'll make you cry like a little girl!" You wouldn't thing that that tiny little pincer could sting so much.
Here is the little bommie where the gritty little guy lives. You can see Faded Glory's anchor in the distance on the sloping sandy bottom: Stay clear if you value your skin.
At the south end of the beach there is a field strewn with Mushroom Coral, sometimes called Solitary Coral (Fungia fungites): This was in only about eight metres of water.
At about the same depth I ran across this charming family scene: The big one is probably a male. I can guarantee that he was once a female. That's just the way it is with these anemonefish.
I also found Nemo hiding out in an anemone. (Amphiprion percula): Okay, I can feel the nap coming on now. I gotta get through this.
So, I'll dazzle you with this Divericate Tree Coral (Dendronephthya roxasia): It's a cheap shot, I know.
Caprese Bites: domesticallyblissful.com/caprese-bites/
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In preparing a presentation for school tomorrow about my work in Brazil I sorted through lots of old photos and enjoyed a bit of a reminisce.
After scratching a mosquito bite it became infected. The sore rapidly became a larger and larger hole and my leg filled with fluid to the point where I could no longer walk. Even the hop to the bathroom was incredibly painful. I used this photo to warn all future volunteers of the dangers of scratching mosquito bites. One of them told me that every time they went to scratch this image popped in their head and they were suddenly able to bear the itchiness. Glad my pain served a purpose!
Scanned photo from back in 2004
Tenuous Link: hole