Encountering tick eggs in your backyard is a concern not to be taken lightly. Ticks are notorious for carrying diseases, and their eggs, often found in sheltered outdoor areas, can be the start of a problematic infestation. This comprehensive guide aims to provide you with the essential knowledge and steps to identify, handle, and prevent tick eggs effectively.

Identification of Tick Eggs

Tick eggs are tiny, typically measuring about 0.5 mm in diameter – the size of a poppy seed. They are usually oval or pear-shaped with a translucent or slightly whitish appearance, though this can vary slightly depending on the tick species. Tick eggs are often laid in clusters and attached to vegetation, leaf litter, or other surfaces near the ground. As they mature, they may become more opaque and take on a color closer to the adult tick of the species. The eggs are typically smooth and glossy in texture, and their color can range from pale yellow to light brown.

The Dangers of Tick Eggs

The primary concern with tick eggs is the potential for them to hatch into larvae, which can carry diseases like Lyme disease and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. It’s crucial to handle tick eggs with caution to prevent the spread of these diseases.

Removal and Disposal of Tick Eggs

When dealing with tick eggs in your backyard, it’s recommended to consult with a professional pest control expert or a veterinarian for proper identification and guidance on tick control and removal. For individual ticks that have attached to skin, use fine-tipped tweezers to grab the tick firmly near its head or mouth and pull it away from the skin without jerking or twisting. After removal, dispose of the tick by putting it in alcohol, a sealed bag, or flushing it down the toilet.

Preventive Measures in Your Backyard

1. Remove Deer-Attracting Plants: Deer ticks, responsible for spreading Lyme disease, can be deterred by eliminating plants like tulips, hostas, and azaleas, which attract deer.
2. Introduce Tick-Repelling Plants: Planting herbs like mint, rosemary, and flowers such as chrysanthemums can help keep ticks away.
3. Regular Lawn Maintenance: Keep your lawn mowed and reduce heavy brush and ground cover. This reduces the habitat for ticks.
4. Manage Woodpiles and Debris: Ticks lay eggs in dark, moist places. Keep woodpiles elevated off the ground and away from the house.
5. Discourage Small Host Animals: Maintain stonewalls and avoid bird feeders that can attract rodents, which are common hosts for ticks.
6. Use Natural Tick Repellents: Essential oils like cedarwood, neem, and citronella, and diatomaceous earth can be effective natural repellents.
7. Employ Tick Tubes: These are no-spray tools that can kill ticks and prevent diseases.
8. Incorporate Rough Textures: Using lava rock or pebble mulch in garden beds makes the area less hospitable for ticks.
9. Create Lawn-Free Zones: Use hardscaping to reduce tick habitats.
10. Apply Insecticides Carefully: If necessary, use insecticides like synthetic pyrethroids or natural alternatives like cedar oil.

When Michael came home early from a business trip, he was expecting a happy reunion with his family. Instead, he walked into a quiet, empty house. His wife was nowhere to be found, and the eerie silence made him uneasy. Little did he know, she was locked in the cellar with a story that would reveal a sh0cking betrayal he never expected.

The trip was supposed to last a few more days, but Michael finished work sooner than planned. He was excited to surprise his wife and kids by coming home two days early. As he drove down their quiet street, he smiled, imagining the joy on their faces when he walked through the door.

I’m 32, and my wife, Emma, is 27. We’ve been married for seven years, and we have two kids—Liam, who’s 8, and Sophie, who just turned 5. Emma stays home with them, handling the endless list of chores and making sure the house runs smoothly. I work long hours, so these surprise homecomings are my way of showing them I’m still around, still present in our family life.

I pulled into the driveway, noticing how still the house was. Strange, since it was a Saturday, and the kids should have been playing outside or watching TV. I grabbed my bag, eager to see them, and walked to the front door.

“Emma? Liam? Sophie?” I called out as I stepped inside, expecting their excited voices to greet me. But there was nothing—just silence.

I searched the house, calling for Emma again, louder this time. The kids’ rooms were empty, their beds made. The bathroom, living room—nothing. My heart raced. Where were they?

Then I heard it—a faint banging sound, like someone knocking on a door. I froze, listening. It was coming from the cellar.

“Help!” It was Emma’s voice, desperate and muffled. I sprinted to the cellar door, my heart pounding.

“Emma! I’m here! Hold on!” I shouted, fumbling with the lock. The door creaked open, and I saw her at the bottom of the stairs, her face pale, eyes wide with fear.

“Oh my God, Emma! What happened? Where are the kids?” I asked, rushing down the stairs.

Emma’s hands shook as she tried to catch her breath. “It’s—it’s your mother,” she said, her voice trembling.

“My mother? What do you mean?” My mind was spinning. None of this made sense.

“She came over with the kids. We were playing hide-and-seek, and I hid down here. But then—” Emma paused, tears filling her eyes. “I heard the door lock. I was stuck for hours. I thought—” She broke down, sobbing.

I pulled her into a hug, trying to calm her down. But my mind was reeling. My mother? Locking Emma in the cellar? Why would she do that? And where were Liam and Sophie?

“We need to find the kids,” I said, my voice firmer now, trying to focus on the immediate problem.

Emma nodded, wiping her tears. “We need to go to your mother’s house. That’s where they’ll be. She—she took them there.”

“Alright,” I said, still in shock but trying to stay composed. “Let’s go.”

I helped her up the stairs, both of us moving quickly but cautiously. We needed answers, and we needed them now. But deep down, I feared the answers we were about to get would only lead to more questions.

As we left the house and got into the car, the weight of what Emma had said sank in. If my mother was behind this, what had really happened while I was gone? And more importantly, what was I going to do about it?

We drove in silence, the tension between us thickening with every passing mile. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

As we sped toward my mother’s house, Emma finally began to calm down enough to talk. Her voice was still shaky, but she was determined to explain.

“It all started when your mom came over yesterday,” Emma said, staring out the window. “She wanted to take the kids for the weekend, but I told her no. We had plans, and I thought it would be better if they stayed home.”

I listened carefully, my mind racing. I hadn’t heard anything about this until now. Emma continued, her voice tight with anger.

“She seemed fine at first, then suggested hide-and-seek. I thought it was just a game, so I went along. I hid in the cellar, thinking it was the perfect spot. But then… I heard the door close. And the lock. I was stuck. I pounded on the door, but no one came.”

Emma gripped her knees, pausing. “I was down there for hours. I was scared and angry. I couldn’t understand why your mom would do this. Then I realized—she was punishing me for not letting the kids go with her.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My mother? But Emma was convinced. “I was stuck down there for fifteen hours, Mike. She did it on purpose.”

My heart sank. This was serious. But it didn’t make sense. My mom loved Emma—or so I thought. Could she really lock her in the cellar out of spite?

When we arrived at my mom’s house, the sight of Liam and Sophie playing outside brought some relief. But it didn’t last. Emma was already out of the car, marching toward the front door. I followed quickly, tension building.

My mom opened the door, surprised. “Michael! What a surprise! I didn’t know you were coming home early!”

But before I could respond, Emma burst out, “Why did you do it? Why did you lock me in the cellar?”

My mother’s smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of genuine confusion. “What are you talking about? I didn’t lock you in the cellar. I would never—”

“Don’t lie!” Emma’s voice cracked with emotion. “I know it was you. You wanted the kids to come here, and when I said no, you… you left me there!”

“Emma, calm down,” I said, though I was struggling to keep my own emotions in check. I turned to my mother, searching her face for any sign that she was hiding something. “Mom, did you lock Emma in the cellar?”

My mother looked horrified. “Of course not! I swear, Michael, I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

Before I could say anything else, a small voice interrupted us. “Mommy?”

We all turned to see Sophie standing in the doorway, looking up at us with wide eyes. “Mommy, are you mad?”

Emma knelt down, softening her tone. “Sophie, honey, did Grandma lock Mommy in the cellar?”

Sophie shook her head quickly. “No, Mommy. It was me.”

Silence fell. Finally, I asked, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Tears filled Sophie’s eyes. “Liam and I wanted to go to Grandma’s. But you said no, so I… I locked you in the cellar. I thought if you weren’t there, we could go.”

My mom gasped. “Oh, Sophie, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to be mad,” Sophie sniffled. “I told Grandma you went to a friend’s house.”

I felt a mix of relief and frustration. My mom wasn’t guilty, but the situation was still a mess. Emma looked torn between anger and heartbreak.

“Sophie,” I said gently, “locking someone up is very serious. You scared Mommy.”

“I’m sorry,” Sophie whispered, hugging Emma. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Emma hugged her tightly, and the tension in her shoulders began to ease. But there was still more to address.

I turned to my mom. “We need to talk. This can’t happen again. We need to figure this out, for everyone’s sake.”

My mom nodded, shaken. “Of course, Michael. I never wanted this.”

Emma stood, holding Sophie’s hand. “I don’t want to fight, but we need boundaries. I don’t want the kids caught in this.”

I knew this was the start of a difficult conversation. But as we all sat down together, I felt hopeful. We were a family, and somehow, we’d find a way through this.

When going to the market, should you choose “straight shrimp” or “curved shrimp”? The difference is huge but few people know. If you don’t know how to choose, it’s easy to buy frozen shrimp. This type of shrimp not only has poor quality meat but also has a strong fishy smell. No matter how you make it, the quality cannot be guaranteed, and the flavor is relatively poor!

When we go to the supermarket or outdoor market to choose shrimp, we should prioritize buying curved shrimp. This is because when shrimp are dead, their body becomes quite loose, no matter how hard you twist them, they will still keep their shape.

In contrast, fresh shrimp naturally bend when they are stimulated by low temperatures. Therefore, when chilled or freshened, they will retain their curved shape.

When buying shrimp, you not only need to pay attention to their curvature, but also need to pay attention to the following 2 points to avoid buying shrimp that have been stored for too long.

Type 1: Shrimp with missing heads and tails

If you notice that the shrimp has lost its head or tail, this is a sign that it has been stored for too long.

If the shrimp head starts to rot and become soft, this type of shrimp is not a good choice. After cooking, it will have a fishy taste and will no longer be fresh.

Type 2: Pink Shrimp Shell

Some shrimp shells may turn pink when they are exposed to high temperatures during transportation. This is usually a sign that they have gone through the aging process, and this type will not retain its flavor well. When choosing shrimp, prioritize buying those with clean shells and no visible signs of discoloration.

A young lad harbored a dream of growing his hair long like the surfers he admired. For over 10 years, he steadfastly refused to trim his locks, paralyzed by a deep-seated fear of barbers. Therefore, what sprouted from his scalp was not just hair, but an unruly tangle of epic proportions. Owen Thomas, from Wales, England, found himself unrecognizable after a transformative encounter with a master barber.

When he was 14, Owen had spent a full decade untouched by scissors, a choice partly influenced by a mild mental disorder. The mere thought of a haircut sent shivers down his spine, which left his parents helpless in their attempts to tame his mane. Years passed, and Owen’s once-flowing locks became ensnared in knots, hidden beneath a perpetual cap to protect him from the ridicule of his peers.

Owen’s parents were urged by concerned educators to address Owen’s appearance, prompting them to devise a clever ruse. Under the guise of achieving his desired long hair, they persuaded Owen to brave the barber’s chair. Accompanied by his father, Anthony, Owen ventured into the barbershop, where they encountered James Williams, a seasoned barber taken aback by the sight of Owen’s tangled mass of hair.

James set to work, likening the challenge to peeling potatoes as he meticulously tackled the hardened clump. Employing a combination of skill and precision, he liberated Owen’s natural locks from their tangled prison. For Anthony, the moment was a long-awaited victory. After a decade-long struggle, his son had finally embraced the shears, emerging from the barber’s chair with a newfound sense of confidence.

With the transformation, James acknowledged the daunting task that lay before him. Yet, when he witnessed Owen’s astonishment at his new appearance, he knew the effort had been worthwhile. Now adorned with a fresh haircut, Owen vowed to care for his locks diligently, eager to nurture his dream hair to fruition.

As his parents look to the future, they still hope that Owen’s newfound confidence will pave the way for future visits to the barbershop, where his hair will grow stronger and more vibrant than ever before.

With the tips below to unclog the drain, you can easily apply them without having to spend money calling a plumber to your home to handle it.

Use warm water and lemon

Using warm water is an effective way to deal with clogged drains and is used by many people. This method is often used to deal with clogged sinks due to grease and food waste. However, you can still use it to deal with clogged bathroom drains.

You just need to prepare a kettle of warm water and pour it directly into the drain to remove dirt. If the problem is more serious, you can pour in a little lemon juice to increase the effectiveness. Note, when doing this, you need to wear a mask to avoid inhaling the smell of the drain.

Use baking soda with vinegar and hot water

Baking soda is also a magical ingredient to help unclog drains. Prepare water, baking soda and a bottle of vinegar. First, pour a sufficient amount of baking soda directly into the pipe. Then slowly pour in the vinegar you have prepared. Vinegar contains acid, so when combined with baking soda, it will foam, speed up the process of softening waste, promoting stronger chemical reactions

After waiting for about 5-10 minutes, pour some warm water into the sink. Because warm water when combined with the above ingredients will help the waste disappear.

Use a clothes hanger

You just need to straighten the clothes hanger, bend one end to form a hook (like the letter J). If necessary, wear rubber gloves and have a bag ready to collect the trash taken from the drain. Remove the screw covering the drain if any and place them neatly in a safe place, avoiding dropping them into the drain. Then, slowly lower the hook end down the water pipe, and “fish” for any obstructions in the drain. After feeling that it seems okay, just slowly pull the clothes hanger up and flush the water.

Between the Netflix docuseries, the recently released memoirs, and his involvement in multiple sit-down interviews, Prince Harry has given his side of the royal drama. In a new interview, Prince Harry says that he is concerned about his nephews and niece – Prince William and Kate’s children — particularly that one of them would “end up” like him.

In a new interview with The Telegraph, Prince Harry shared the concerns he has for the Wales kids.

In an interview with journalist Bryony Gordon, the Duke of Sussex discussed his fears about other members of his family.

Specifically, Harry expressed concern that other members of the family will face a similar predicament to his own over the last six years.

He’s worried about George, Charlotte, and Louis.

“As I know full well, within my family, if it’s not us,” Harry shared, “it’s going to be someone else.”

And he is concerned that “someone else” will ultimately become 9-year-old Prince George, 7-year-old Princess Charlotte, or 4-year-old Louis.

Harry shared that he’s brought his concerns up to William.

“And though William and I have talked about it once or twice, and he has made it very clear to me that his kids are not my responsibility,” Harry explained.

However, he has struggled to accept this because his fear is genuine.

“I still feel a responsibility knowing that out of those three children, at least one will end up like me,” he said.

And what he means by that is at least one of William and Kate’s kids will inherit the title of ‘spare.’

In his book Spare, Harry discusses how the moniker has followed him since the day he was born. And how the dynamic it generated hurt his relationship with Prince William.

“The Heir and the Spare — there was no judgment, but also no ambiguity.” Harry wrote, “I was the shadow, the support, the Plan B.”

“I was summoned to provide backup, distraction, diversion and, if necessary, a spare part. Kidney, perhaps. Blood transfusion. Speck of bone marrow. This was all made explicitly clear to me from the start of life’s journey and regularly reinforced thereafter.”

Harry has a strained relationship with his brother and dad, King Charles.

Harry is hopeful that the publishing of his book, which offers some different information about the family than what has been depicted in British tabloids, would help things to improve. And, contrary to popular belief, Harry did not intend to tattle on his family; he merely wanted to relate his side of the story in his own words.

“I always say: ‘What’s the difference between airing lies about your family through the British press, or airing truth through a book?’” Harry shared.

“In my case, this is all contained in one place where I hold myself entirely accountable and responsible for what I am saying.”

A woman is left bankrupt by her deceitful ex-husband, and years later she discovers him working as a parking valet at a restaurant.

Jenny Carlson, 45, has been married for twenty-seven years. She spent the majority of those years happily raising her children when Jenny thought her husband loved her.

But Brad had changed. While Jenny had dedicated herself to their children and their home, Brad had committed himself to producing a lot of money.

He used to say, “Jenny, we’re partners, 50/50, and don’t you forget it! I couldn’t be such a success without you.” Jenny believed him, and she was confident that he would be as honest with her as she was with him.

It’s difficult to say exactly when Jenny recognized her marriage was finished. Perhaps it was when Brad forgot her birthday twice, and it stopped hurting.

Jenny knew she no longer loved Brad as she sat alone in her bedroom, waiting for him. She loved and admired him, and he was her best friend, but the romance was over.

Do what you do best the best you can.

A few days later, Jenny said, “Are you happy, Brad?”

He looked up from his laptop, frowning. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because,” Jenny said calmly. “You don’t love me anymore.”

Brad pushed his hands to his forehead and closed his eyes. “Oh, Jen…” he muttered. “Please, babe, can we talk about this in two weeks’ time? I have a huge deal…I want to be able to give us my full attention.”

“Ok,” Jenny agreed. “Two weeks…”

“Please, babe,” Brad said with tears in his eyes. “Please don’t give up on us. Just give me a little time, okay?”

Jenny did, and she got a surprise! Brad arrived just two weeks later. “The deal went through!” he exclaimed.

“Can we talk tonight,” Jenny asked. “About us.”

Brad sat down on the couch and crossed his legs casually. “We can talk now!” he said. “So… do you want a div:orce or not?”

“A div:orce?” Jenny gasped. “I thought you… You told me not to give up on us!”

“Oh, you know!” Brad waved a hand. “The things we say under pressure…”

“I see,” Jenny said. “In that case, I will contact a lawyer and file the motion…”

“I already did,” Brad said smiling. “And I also filed for bankruptcy. You’re not getting a CENT of my hard-earned money.”

“But you always said we were equal partners,” Jenny gasped. “50/50, you said.”

“Forget it,” Brad said. “That’s just one of those things I said. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Like ‘I love you,’” said Jenny bitterly.

“Exactly!” Brad said.

Jenny had nothing by the time the div:orce was finalized. She received only half of the house’s equity, most of which was used to cover legal fees.

Fortunately for Jenny, her three children had grown up and moved out. She only had herself to worry about, so she rented a small apartment and began looking for job.

Jenny had no qualifications or experience. She married Brad right out of high school, with her eldest child on the way. She had been the best mother, but that was no longer worth anything.

Jenny sat on her second-hand couch, crying, after pounding the pavements all day. The previous woman who interviewed her had been pleasant. “Find something you do better than anyone else,” she advised.

“What can I do better than anyone?” she asked herself. Then she grinned. Her granny made chocolate pie! Jenny received her grandmother’s recipe book, and chocolate pie was a family favorite.

The next day, she got up at 4:00 a.m. and started baking. At 7:00 p.m., she appeared at the door of the fancy café across the street, holding two pies.

“If you don’t sell the pies,” Jenny explained. “I’ll pay you. What have you got to lose?”

By 11:00, the café owner had called Jenny and requested two additional pies for the afternoon crowd. Then people began ordering complete pies to take home rather than just a slice.

Jenny was a busy woman, and she became more busier when another café approached her, followed by another… One day, a buyer from a deli chain approached her and offered to buy the pies frozen.

Jenny established a factory and developed her own brand, Aunt Gigi’s Pies, in collaboration with the proprietor of the first café. It was a huge success, and Jenny was well on her way to being a wealthy woman three years later.

It wasn’t just her professional life that was thriving. She’d just started dating again, with a lovely French food critic who adored her and enjoyed chocolate pie.

Jenny got all suited up for her date with her charming French lover at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. She looked amazing! She got into her brand-new tiny red convertible and headed downtown.

She came to a halt at the restaurant’s entrance, got out of her car, and prepared to hand over the car keys to the valet. She gasped as she stared at the man once more. “BRAD?”

Brad was parking cars, dressed in an ill-fitting crimson blazer and a black bow tie. In reality, he was about to park HER automobile. Brad flushed and looked uncomfortable.

“Jenny,” he answered, smiling weakly. “You look great!”

Jenny took a look him over and said, “You don’t! What happened to you?”

Brad shrugged. “After we divo:rced,” he admitted, “everything went wrong. I made some bad investments…I lost everything, Jenny.”

“Oh, you poor thing!” Jenny cried and dug into her purse. “Here you go, for old time’s sake!” With a beautiful grin, she placed a bill in her ex-husband’s hand.

Brad had left her with nothing three years ago; now he had nothing, and she was leaving him with more than he had given her — a $1 tip!

“You take care of my car, now!” she murmured casually as she entered the restaurant, where a lovely man and a wonderful evening awaited her.