Posts Tagged ‘pollen’
Receiving Notices
For almost 13 years, we have taken our trash and recycling bins down to the end of our driveway on Thursday nights. It has been a good marker for the day of the week, especially since we are no longer employed and struggle to distinguish between weekdays and weekends.
Our trash hauler recently decided to switch the day of the week that they will service our street. It is now one day earlier. No big deal, right? Well, it shouldn’t be, in my mind. However, readjusting a habit that has been in practice for so many years is causing me to feel more confused than ever in sensing where we are in the days of the week.
The weekend keeps feeling one day closer than it actually is. Today is only Thursday, and our trash bin is down by the road, ready to be picked up.
I was busy all day yesterday, mowing grass and weed-whipping around the edges. Toward the latter half of the afternoon, my eyes were driving me nuts. I had to stop several times to remove my sunglasses to rub and wipe my eyes. When I got in the house at the end of the day, my phone had an alert from my weather app. It indicated that any eye irritation occurring during the day was likely due to a high pollen count.
Noted. I was impressed that the app specifically addressed the situation I was dealing with.
We received a notice yesterday that our iCloud storage is getting close to full for the plan we are on. Apple conveniently offers options to address the issue, including ways to delete files we may not need to keep.
It was very easy to eliminate duplicate images in our photo storage. I found it painfully difficult to delete videos. I needed to watch many of them to figure out what they are. After watching a few, I didn’t want to delete any of them.
I’m pretty sure we will end up buying more storage capacity. The declutterer in me scoffs over the thought of paying for a garage space to store excess stuff. Apparently, I don’t hold myself to the same standard when it comes to digital data.
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Hazardous Conditions
Yesterday, while working outside for long hours in the spring wind, we exposed ourselves to enough tree pollen to cause significant irritation to our delicate tissues. I think I also successfully altered the weather to shut down precipitation here for some time.
While my nose dripped at an ever-increasing rate, I built a barrier of old, moldy hay bales in the trees by our uphill neighbor’s corn field.
During heavy rain, the water comes off that field in a torrent and washes sediment onto our property. Lately, it has started to fill in a drainage trench beside our driveway.
Oddly enough, I actually wanted it to rain today, so I could see if my creation worked as intended, but the forecast shows no precipitation expected in the days ahead.
Given that, I guess my project worked. It has stopped the sediment from pouring into our trench, hasn’t it?
While I was working in the tangled bramble of uncontrolled growth that forms the border between our property and that cultivated field to the north of us, I decided to finally address a remnant of rusted barbed wire fencing that had been swallowed by a tree.
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The tree had long ago been cut off, leaving a stump that was about the height of a fence post. Made sense, since the barbed wire ran through the tree, it was already functioning as a fence post.
Removing the rusted fencing was made easier by the fact the tree was rotting to pieces. So much of it came apart simply by prying at it with one of the old fence posts that I found myself struggling near the end, to finish it off in the same manner. Eventually, logic, and my increasingly irritating allergic reactions to pollen, led me to hasten the task by way of the chain saw.
The area looks like it has been through a serious spring cleaning now, with the added benefit of opening up visibility to the area where water flows off the neighbor’s field. It is easier to see if the barrier I built is doing the job of keeping sediment out of our ditch.
Sneeze. Cough. Drip. Stinging blink. It’s the hazardous working conditions of spring!
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Relative Something 