Open Register

Nothing to sneeze at

I hate my nose.

It’s not so much that it’s un-nose-ually long or fat or wide. It just doesn’t work very well. While other people are, quite literally, breathing in spring, I’m breathing in steady streams of generic-brand nasal spray. I have to do that in order to breathe at night. I’m not a doctor, and I don’t play one on television, but I would still suggest breathing at night is a good thing.

Spring for an allergic guy, on the other hand …

When I was a child, I was tested for allergies. This wasn’t a written quiz; the doctor injected traces of dozens of common allergens into my back. As this test goes, when you are allergic to any of them, a red spot or welt forms, alerting the medical team to what allergies you might have. I scored a virtual 100 percent. My back looked like a dartboard. I recall the nurse taking one look and shaking her head and saying, “oh, poor baby …” I’m not a student of medical lexicon, but I would still suggest that a nurse telling a patient, “oh, poor baby …” is not a good thing.

Through the years, I’ve done the shots, the pills, the sprays, the works. Nothing has consistently opened my nasal passages  — especially during spring. But I take heart (and nose) in the news of a relatively new product designed to fight prospective breathing problems during the peak gardening season. It’s called Airborne Seasonal, and it’s part of the Airborne Inc. line of herbal health formulas that battle some of the nose’s worst enemies.

I’m not a military strategist, but I would still suggest that any battle against some of the nose’s worst enemies is a good thing.

Yale

Bloomin’ fun

In this day and age of technological everything, I am what’s known as a point-and-dig as opposed to point-and-click.

Spring is here in Texas and my mom has decreed it to be planting time. However, since she’s getting to be up there (you don’t have to tell her I said that!) and likes to see me sweat, I get to do the digging and planting. On the other hand, since I have killed just about every plant I’ve ever put in ground or pot, she claims dominance on the caretaking.

I will admit to a seasonal bit of envy, though. Whenever we do our garden center buying, I’m always tempted to buy and plant something myself. Having learned the hard way that it only brings heartache for me and death to the plants, I refrain.

I want to grow huge blooms of something (besides weeds!) like marigolds or morning glories or something big and bright and beautiful. Or herbs that I can use to cook with. Or cacti – seriously, how much water and care do they need?

Unfortunately, all my flower colors appear to be black.

Good thing I can dig, I suppose.

-- Jennifer