The People vs. Allergy Season

I don’t know where you are, dear reader, but here the temperature has taken a sudden downturn.

Truth told, I prefer this weather.  I like going outside and spending time where it’s neither freezing cold nor broiling hot.  Unfortunately, the appearance of this cold weather also heralds the appearance of something that keeps me indoors.

Ragweed.

First off, I do a little gardening myself and I have bad feelings about anything that blooms only during cool weather.  Secondly, I dislike things that bloom suddenly and in bulk.  It makes me suspect a conspiracy.

Well, laugh if you like.  I’m almost serious.

But where most people would much rather reach for the meds and the tissues, I like to take a more proactive approach: a machete and a gas mask.

Yep.  You guessed it.  I’m just gonna get rid of the stuff.  A nice, cheerful bonfire is very fall-esque, don’t you think?  Get a fire hot enough and it will burn anything, even water heavy plants.

I sure some of you feel this is a terrible and needlessly violent reaction.   I’ll give you a friendly piece of advice: back out now—‘cause this blog’s not gonna get any better.  Besides, almost everyone who as allergies as bad as mine (I use the gas mask because a surgical mask won’t do the job) will agree with me.  We’re beyond sick of dealing with it—we’ve moved on to just sick and we’d like to stop being so.

So rise up, needlessly miserable people.  Put aside your tissues and take punitive action against that which has trapped you within the house on a beautiful day.  Descend on it, o my fellow allergy sufferers, and take back your outdoor lives!

Will this actually do the trick?  No, but it makes us all feel better.  Ragweed lets off something like two billion spores and has been found two miles out to sea.  (I’m pulling those numbers out of my defective memory, so don’t quote ‘em, folks.)  There’s really no escaping it, but that doesn’t mean I intend to go down without a fight.

The only consolation I have is that I’ll outlive this year’s plants.  They’ll be back next year, of course, but, though they may cause me misery and sinus infection before they’re gone, I will outlast them, no matter what I do.  It’s cold comfort—literally in this case, I suppose—but it is something to look forward to.

I’ll see you in hell, ragweed.

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