Every year it’s the same thing. This year no different.

Before it got very warm outside, I wheelbarrowed firewood off the screened-in porch, swept the concrete, wiped off the wooden ledges, and washed the wrought-iron furniture. When I predicted the chance of a freeze was over, I carried the plants out and tied cushions to the chairs—all in an effort to hurry spring.

This lovely porch setting lasted for a day or two when Mother Nature let me know she’s the boss. I should have remembered poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s’ line, “In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.”

The trees’ spring mating season began.

Yellow-green oak pollen blew in from my woods for weeks—from the last part of April through part of May. I fought it unsuccessfully with a broom and wiped off the table and chairs again and again. (Really, who thinks she’s going to dust the outdoors and win?)

Meanwhile the black walnut trees along the driveway decided to drop those green tassels and covered the concrete. The first week of the male deluge, I swept up enough catkins to fill a black trash bag. I dredged them out of the gutters and drainpipe. I shouted at them, “Guys, my driveway is not where you’re going to find action!” The next week nearly the same. By the third week, they had petered out.

Last summer’s drought took a toll on many bushes, and I had to trim off the dead parts. My shrub shears were dull since they hadn’t been sharpened in years, but I discovered I still had Jim’s grinder on the work bench and decided to give it a whirl. (Our sons don’t like me to use power tools, but I don’t have the time or energy to go into that.) The sparks were scary, and I think I lost some hair on my arm. Although a bit unevenly honed, the shears worked pretty well, but I may need to get some new ones soon.

Over the holiday weekend, I scrubbed that screened-in porch again, screens and all. I should have awaited Nature sending out all the reproductive spores, but as every year, I was too impatient. Now it’s ready for sitting out there with friends or alone with a good book.

Getting the outdoors in good shape is a nonstop job, but I’m making inroads.

Busy and sneezy as it gets, isn’t spring a lovely time? Now lazy summer beckons.