Tick, tock, tick...

Well, there weren't any clocks, but there were definitely ticks.

After our walk down to the beach Sunday evening, I would up picking ticks off of myself. At least they were the nice, big ones, the kind that feel like a good-sized spider crawling across your shoulder -- I'd rather deal with those any day than with the little seed ticks. Fortunately, they appeared especially attracted to my white sweatshirt. We didn't find any on the rest of the family, or on me anywhere but my torso.