Senseless Sunday Sarcasm : Oh-pine.
Every year they attack.
The pine pollen mini-monsters.
Those tiny little things carried by the wind…
….infiltrating my nostrils…
….traveling down the tracheal toilet, and then…
….lodging into my larynx.
When the Florida winter is warmer, they attack in February. If winter is colder, they’re pounding away at my sinuses by mid-March.
Some years, it’s not bad — a sniffle and a sneeze, perhaps a bit of wheeze.
This year? They waited until the time I have my heaviest workload and then…THEN the spirit of wronged pine trees past attacked with a vengeance.
I’ve never killed a pine tree…that I remember.
Perhaps once…or twice…I might have run over a sapling trying to grow in the middle of the dirt road leading from my house to the paved highway.
But not on purpose.
Why couldn’t I be allergic to something exotic, like Black Orchid pollen — or Venus fly trap pollen.
Ragweed sounds sinister, but Pine pollen is so…so…blah.
I think the goddess of whispering pine needles heard my plea — and she’s not amused. My ears are stuffing up and the helium head is filling with concrete.
Who knew that pine trees could be this vindictive?