It's that time of year, kids. It's almost spring, that time of year when whatever it is that blooms in north-central Texas sends pollen cascading up here on the southwest wind. It's got me by the nads - no, actually it's got me by the lungs. I can't think of anyone ever trying to cough up a nad, but the lungs sure have taken a beating. My chest feels like it's being stomped on, and not by some dainty little Oriental massage girl. It feels like one or more of the Valkyries has been stomping on me, dressed in her steel corset and wearing the big pointy iron hat with the horns.
Its been bad enough and loud enough that the woman who works across the hall from me closed her door. She's not a weakling either.
Enough of my pathetic whining.
At least the snow is gone around here. I keep hoping it will dry out enough to seed and fertilizer the lawn. As a native Iowan, I was used to seeing grass come up almost instantly every spring. It was like magic. When my parents built a new house, my dad threw some seed out on the ground and they had a lawn in a couple weeks. I tried that when I first moved here - I leveled out the clay and rocks that surrounded my new house and threw out some grass seed, fertilizer, and straw. Then I did it again. I think the second time around I got a dozen little leaves of grass and some chickweed. Grass really does not like to grow on rocks and clay, but that is what we have. We are living in our third house here and after thirteen years (Good Lord!) I have decent grass. Keeping decent grass here takes a year-long battle. Overseed and fertilize in the fall. Mulch leaves, spread lime, and fertilize again in the early spring. Fertilize and kill weeds in the early summer. Fertilize and kill crabgrass in the late summer.
Yeah, I'm whining again. Sorry.