We all love Spring, right? Of course, we do. But it’s not always so easy to love. Here’s an essay from March 2012.
We had hints of early green in January and February, and we were amazed. But now! Bam! It’s green everywhere. It’s lush green; it’s thick green; it’s talkin’-about-cuttin’-your-grass-more-than-once-a-week green. Winter is in the books; another Spring is here. January 1 makes it official, but a green Spring is what truly starts the new year off.
Spring is lush, green, fertile, beautiful, bountiful, romantic, hopeful. I reckon it is the most perfect of seasons; I reckon it is. I guess so.
You ever had a full-blown case of spring allergies? You ever have that sore throat that you get with “sinus drainage.” What is sinus drainage, and why does it make my throat hurt so bad? Somebody said, “Just take those cough drops”—I guess they meant those triple soothing action, fast relief, advanced formula, vapor action cough drops. They work okay as long as I have one in my mouth. But let me tell you something: they can’t undo one of these sinus drainage sore throats as good as that sinus drainage can do one up. That’s a fact. You ever get eye allergies where you wake up in the middle of the night and one eye is pouring water? And throughout the day everybody asks you, “Why’re your eyes so red?” You ever get that stinging feeling up high in your nose, kind of between your eyes? Sometimes it comes with a little dull pain just in front of your ears. And don’t you just love that gunk—I call it “skuk”—that you are constantly “skukking up” from your throat. I think that’s that lovely “sinus drainage” that is somehow making your throat feel as if it’s been dragged across rough concrete.
The birds and their songs are so lovely in Spring. They produce a symphony of melodious sound that is so pleasing. Thankful for us, food for them is in great abundance in the Spring and they come to join in the revelry. I love to sit outside in the early evenings looking for and listening to the birds.
I’ll tell you what’s in abundance: it’s the dad-gummed mosquitos. I wish the darned birds would eat all those worthless mosquitoes. Maybe that way I could stay outside for more than three minutes, slapping my arms and my ears and my neck the whole time. Between last year’s cans of mosquito repellent and what my wife and my mother have already bought this year, I can probably scrap together thirteen partial or whole cans of the stuff. Does that stuff make your arms burn like it does mine? You ever been involved in this scenario? You take a shower, put on some comfortable clean clothes, you feel good, you want to go outside to enjoy a short walk, or play in the yard with your dogs, or a few minutes sit quietly—and right after you get out there you start swatting yourself and you say, “I guess I need some mosquito repellent,” and just as soon as you spray that first arm or your clothes you realize that you’ll have to take another shower before you go to bed and those clothes ain’t so clean no more. Geez.
Yes, it’s so much fun to get outside in the Springtime, so much possibility, so much that can be done—if you can stay awake.
And back to those allergies—you ever sit in a chair and can’t hold your eyes open, like you got trot line sinkers tied to your eyelids? Why do I have to be so sleepy all the time? And you better watch what medicine you take when; it’ll make that sleepiness worse, or better, or worse. You take the wrong one at night and you’ll be watching the infomercials at three in the morning. Take the wrong one in the daytime, and you won’t be safe to drive, not even close. You’ll be in a quarter-coma. Years ago, over ten, I went to some fancy meeting in the Spring put on by Ole Miss. I took the wrong allergy medicine. All I did the whole meeting was try not sleep, and I wasn’t always successful. It was plumb embarrassing. I still haven’t forgotten that.
The grass looks so lovely in the Spring when it is neatly cut. We cut a lot of grass at my house and my mother’s house, and we take pride in how the place looks.
I filled up eight, five gallon cans of gas for the beginning of the grass cutting season. Would you like me to do the math on that? Five gallons, times $3.60 per gallon, equals $18 per gas can, times eight gas cans, equals 144 dollars. Dollars. Good grief. We took a little less pride last year, and probably gonna take a little less this year.
I’ll enjoy Spring just as soon as my throat quits hurtin’. How long until Fall?