Tis the spring season

Florida has been setting records for heat lately, and because of these heatwaves, our trees think it's spring. 

Spring in Florida means pollen--tons of it if you have an oak tree. The new buds sprout, pollen falls, and everywhere we have clumps of it in batches--in our yard, on our driveway, on our porch, on our walkway, and on the car roofs. 

Every time we go out and come back inside, we bring in the pollen. I brush the dog as much as possible, but he drops little curls of pollen everywhere in the house. I sweep my floors daily. It's craziness, and when Darcy lived here, I was nuts about keeping it out of the house. She has allergies, and the pollen activated those, and when she lived here, we couldn't have the windows open, and she'd have to strip in the garage and immediately shower after school.  

Now that Darcy isn't here and a cold front has come through, I'm enjoying opening the windows, despite the green layer covering my furniture and floors. Elliot loves it too. The breezes are nice, and he wants to be outside all of the time. 

He and I sit on the front porch and watch the world go by. I write. He sleeps and barks at intruders who dare pass by our front. Today, while he sat and watched me, I swept the walkway and porch and brushed the pollen pile into the yard at one corner.

Feeling proud of myself, I went to put the broom away, and when I returned, I found the dog sitting in the pile of swept pollen. What? He doesn't normally do crap like that, but because I hadn't let him yip and yap at the broom while I cleaned, he figured he'd get back at me. I shrieked, and he proceeded to roll around in it until he was one big clump of pollinated fur. I broomed him off while he tried to attack the broom, and then he plopped back down in the yard, snubbing his nose at me. I gave up. 

Welcome spring. As long as you give me several weeks of this cool weather, I'll put up with the pollen.