In this house, three out of the four people, and one of the two dogs have seasonal allergies.
It’s just me and Cruizer– the dog who knocked me off the treadmill during a thunderstorm— that are enjoying the smell of the flowers right now.
Misty, the old bitch (shush- that’s a technical term!) scratching herself on everything, and doing the sneeze-in-my-face after farting-near-my-nose. I think the farting is just her getting old– but zOMG.
The Small People, especially Zach, are itchy, coughy, cranky, and all together ditzy.
JB is the grown up version of the Small People, with the extra bit of “snoring worse than normal” and his normal is plenty bad. Since my children end up in bed with me at some point almost every night WHEN HE IS IN TOWN, I’m working a theory. I think their subconscious hears that gawdawful noise through the walls and, fearing imminent danger, dials up a brain-eating zombie nightmare.
The weather is in that 2 months of mosquito-free gorgeousness– full of blue skies and gentle (though slightly yellow) breezes. The slightly yellow is ruining everything… I’ve been half-assed pretending to be Princess Leia to their Jedi until most of the tree boom-chika-wow-wow time has passed (trees prefer AM nookie, by the way). Then it’s showers, vacuuming, moping, sweeping, wiping, laundry. Allergy meds, local honey, face washing, shirt-changes, TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES.
And it’s not just the pollen– inchworms are experiencing a population boom.. The boys think this is so cool (and it distracted them from trying to rescue random mulch-living termites). I just want to stop finding them in my hair!
Meet Larval, (get it– larva. Snort) our new pet inchworm. So far, Larval has been the unfortunate passenger on a kamikaze dump truck ride and the co-pilot on a kangaroo bouncer relay race.