I Hate Spring

I used to love spring. So pretty, so green, so refreshing. Everything new and bright and clean! And I still love spring for about 2 or 3 days, right when it first gets going in full swing. And then the hate starts in. I'm not allergic to the pollen, but the constant change in the weather irritates my nasal passages and gives me all the allergic-type reactions just the same. And then there's the tornadoes. And then...those dadgum baby birds. A week or so ago, I rescued a hatchling that had fallen out of its nest, but usually we're not so fortunate. Usually spring involves several days of coming home and finding already dead baby bird on the ground by where we park our cars. Coming home after a hard day at work, one hopes to find something a bit more uplifting.

Spring also makes the bugs come out in large quantities. And today, when I was digging in the ground behind our deck to see if the sweet potato plants from last year had produced any actual sweet potatoes, I uncovered something under a pile of leaves that looked very much like a vertebral (?) bone. And then another one. And another one. And as my gaze shifted to the right, I saw what looked like hip bone from a large cat-sized or smallish dog-sized animal.

Not. cool. Wedged right up against our deck. Not cool.

And I get that there's a cycle of life and that animals (including people) live and die all the time, but whatever, does it have to be right where I garden, right where I try to grow vegetables?

Not that I'm blaming spring for the dead animal, but still.
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Incident Report -- Lately

I haven't been keeping up with a daily log, but here are some of the incidents that have occurred lately:

1. Spilled my breakfast on my pants (while at work).
2. Spent quite a bit of time ironing my shirt one night, but I hadn't been at work for long the next day when it looked like instead of ironing it, I had balled it up and stomped on it repeatedly.
3. I didn't want to get out the iron for my pants in the morning, so I used the flat iron. This had worked before, but this time I must have had styling products on the flat iron because it smudged something down the front of my pants.
4. Smudged my nail polish. So that I could go ahead and leave for work, painted over the smudge instead of removing the polish and starting over. Put lunch in fridge at work and smudged the polish.
5. Came home on lunch break to find a (still living) baby bird on the ground. Put it back in the nest.
6. Took a sip of water, spilled water down the front of my shirt.
7. Got in to my car to go to work, and something floated in to the car and landed on my pants. Attempted to brush it off the pants. Smeared the whatever it was on to the pants.
8. City council member walked in to my office while I was talking to myself.
9. On the same day as Item 8, co-worker saw me talking to myself in the parking lot.
10. Came home on lunch break to find dead baby bird on the ground.
11. Went to allergist for environmental allergy testing. Results were that I am allergic to rabbit but not pollen, dust, mold, trees, or anything like that, but that I do have vasomotor rhinitis. In other words, strong smells, changes in barometric pressure, and that sort of thing could cause what seems like an allergic reaction. JLR said that was bad because it meant I couldn't get shots to get rid of the sneezing and congestion. I said, "Whatever, sister. I do not care about such things as allergy shots because I am invincible! I can spend all day outside and not feel a thing because I am INVINCIBLE!" And then we had a lot of rapid weather changes, and I spent all yesterday sneezy and congested. Pride goeth before a fall, y'all.


And also, my eyebrows are becoming unsightly again. Must pluck soon.



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New Year's Resolution

It's New Year's Resolution time for me. You know those people who make the same resolution year after year, hoping this time they'll really stick with it (the whatever it is they swear they're actually going to accomplish)? I'm one of those people. My resolution comes not in January, but in late spring. Every year, without fail, I think 'This is it. This is the year I will garden successfully.' No, I don't seriously believe that all my plants will make it. But I do believe that I will tend to my plants carefully, accurately diagnose problems when they arise, and treat plants as needed to eliminate pests and climate-related ailments--even though a voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I'm not the outdoorsy type and am unlikely to spend much time gardening once the temperature rises above 90.

This year is no exception.

Yesterday, I planted six cherry tomato plants. I already had planted a regular tomato plant and a bell pepper plant, and one of my pepper plants from last year is coming back [!]. The cherry tomatoes, well, they look a little sad already. I had them outside in their little pots, waiting until I had time to put them into bigger pots. They were up on a ledge to protect them from whatever it is that sometimes digs up my plants, but I forgot about the wind. When I went outside yesterday, I saw that they had all fallen off the ledge and looked miserable. Going into action right away, I quickly repotted them and watered them well, but today they still don't look so hot.

Bother.

Maybe I need to play them some Pink Martini.


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