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Come on in out of the pollen

| Just for Fun

A Note from Joe –

Congratulations to our resident humorist Holly Mackle! She is launching a mommy humor essay book today: Same Here, Sisterfriend, Mostly True Tales of Misadventures in Motherhood. Check out a special discount Holly has arranged for our readers. Details in the Links & Resources section below.


Hello from Holly.

It’s here. Pollen season. Somehow I have pollen amnesia every year…I forget it’s coming, and then while it’s happening I keep thinking, “How long does this last again?”

(Childbirth metaphor, anyone?)

It falls softer and quieter and way more invisible than snow. And nothing makes me feel more solidarity with northerners. Because (just like snow) it requires patience, forbearance, longsuffering, and a decent amount of time on TripAdvisor searching “How To Get Away From This.”

 

Pollen

 

For those blessedly unaware of pollen season, allow me to explain the unwritten rules the rest of us come to learn surrounding its removal and disposal. You see, you don’t want to clean it every day. Oh no, that’s a terrible idea. And when you do want to clean it, you have to do so in a decided fashion. You don’t want to sweep it, and you certainly can’t use the blower…that’s an even more terrible idea. You must wait until you *think* it’s done, and then take care of it in the most efficient way possible. My weapon of choice is the hose.

This job falls entirely to me as my big strong husband is terribly allergic to the stuff. It turns him into a headachey, itchy-eyed, low-talking, red-nosed mope. He becomes the little known eighth dwarf: Mopey. (That one’s kind of a Sneezy/Grumpy combination, just lower on the aggression.) So when the pollen falls I have to remind myself that the whininess is only seasonal; he is normally a perfectly lovely man, this too shall pass…

I really should turn this on David and say its nature’s way of getting back at him for not letting me keep bees.

Nature: So I see you don’t like pollination?

David: No, I do not.

Nature: And why would that be?

David: Because I prefer to breathe.

Nature: That is very selfish and also not a good enough answer. To punish you, I’m going to pollinate everything not covered by a roof.

Yesterday morning, I left my car in the driveway for four hours and came out to find it covered in a putrid green matte finish. Bitty E asked if she could practice her spelling words in it. I said yes because BONUS: that totally counted as spelling words for the day and who’s with me for an argument-free spelling word session??

They forecast pollen down here. My favorite weatherman apologizes for it, as if he’s responsible. Yesterday the weather said POLLEN COUNT: ridicula-high.

David and I (read: my dad) redid the kitchen in our first home. After the drywall portion of the project ended, I remember finding drywall dust for months. Everywhere. Places I didn’t know existed needed to be dusted from the fine powdery white. Even Walter would have told Jesse to clean up his station. I would walk around and fake cry because every surface I had just dusted mocked me 20 minutes later. Finally, we wised up and changed the filters in the house and it quit. So…could someone change the filter around here?

Try to ignore all the normal dust and just notice the pollen footprints…

 

Dust

 

There is a Pollyanna moment to all this: spring is here. It’s planting time, friends. So if there is a four letter spelling word I’m going to write onto my pollen-covered car, it’s gotta be “Boom.” Keep your pollen-free zones to yourself, TripAdvisor, I have no need. Just give me several hundred gallons of water through the garden hose, and we’ll be off to the races in no time.

Links & Resources

Holly’s book – Same Here, Sisterfriend, Mostly True Tales of Misadventures in Motherhood – is available in stores at Books-A-Million and on various sites online, including Barnes & Noble and Amazon. But there’s a special coupon code just for the joegardener audience – if you order direct from the publisher.
Use code JOE20 for 20% off your order.
Not a mom? Not a problem – it’s the perfect Mother’s Day gift for that mom you love.

 

About Holly Mackle

Holly Mackle is a wife, mama of two flower-sneaking bitties, and garden blogger at Digging Suburbia. She could never be a Disney princess as she picks constant fights with small woodland creatures. Holly is the author of Little Hearts, Prepare Him Room and the editor of engagingmotherhood.com. In her free time, she enjoys both pop culture and theological podcasts, baking through Pioneer Woman’s recipes, and using every gardening metaphor possible to explain life to her girls. She does not enjoy chasing rabbits away from her green beans.

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