Of Pollen and Woodchucks

Spring is my favorite second season. Autumn is my first. I like change, at least in my external surroundings. Plus, summer is too hot and humid and winter on Lake Ontario is… well… if you like winter here you’re some sort of masochist. So, spring and autumn it is.

There’s only one thing I would change about spring. If I could control the universe, there’d be no tree pollen. My eyes itch for a month straight. I wake up congested. Allergy meds help for a while, but when it comes down to it, I spend a month being miserable all because my body decided it no longer liked tree pollen about five years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, as far as the allergy pool goes, I’m good with tree pollen (and golden rod and ragweed). There are much worse things to have allergies too. Like food. I would die if I had a food allergy. Especially to shellfish. I like scallops and shrimp a little too  much. I am the shrimpocalypse.  I will devour their little pink corpses.

Spring is progressing. The tree in front of the house has tiny maple leaves spread through the its flowers. It’s a small sea of green. Such a nice change from the dreadful brown that populated the world until the last couple weeks. Green is amazing.

I went back to my office to stow some of my belongings until we get the rest moved over. Sitting on terrace was the woodchuck. I’m not a huge fan of woodchucks, probably from growing up in the farm. Woodchucks are a nuisance. They dig holes everywhere. They eat things they shouldn’t. This one… this one’s kinda cute.

He’s lived there for a while. The boyfriend says that he stays. I have yet to come up to a compelling argument for his removal. So, the woodchuck stays. It did look happy on the deck, lying there, all stretched out. But, I swear if the woodchuck rushes toward me at any point I will end him.

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