I’m being entirely sincere, here. Spring’s riots of color, the greens bursting through the earth, the disruptive and chaotic nature of new growth, everything literally oozing, dripping, exploding with new life. It’s the most violent time of the year and I love it.
But it’s hell on my face. I haven’t been able to hear out of my left ear for about three days because I have mucous trapped behind the eardrum. The only way to get it out is through use of a neti pot, or as I refer to it: voluntary water boarding. I hate it so much, so I’m procrastinating and bitching about it rather than just getting it done.
Fortunately I can take small doses of sudafed while pregnant, so I’m not totally wiped out, but we’ve only had a few days for the plants to really get their sex on, and I imagine it’s going to be a wee bit downhill from here, sinus-wise.
Nonetheless, I am looking forward to restarting my garden from scratch. The dogs absolutely ruined my backyard, and while I’d never thank them to their faces for it, it’s provided me with an opportunity to re-plan my garden in a less haphazard sort of way. This weekend there will be construction of raised tables for veggies, deconstruction of ground plots that were veggie beds, reconstruction of the pile of apple branches into a lattice for the hop vines, and essentially all around all that good wholesome stuff that you might not pin on a pink-haired sardonic comics-making person. But honestly, I can’t wait.