Nature Hates Me


The flowers are plotting
 against you!

`Didn’t you know that?’ cried another Daisy, and here they all began shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill voices. `Silence, every one of you!’ cried the Tiger- lily, waving itself passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement. `They know I can’t get at them!’ it panted, bending its quivering head towards Alice, `or they wouldn’t dare to do it!’

`Never mind!’ Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, `If you don’t hold your tongues, I’ll pick you!

                                                 -Through the Looking Glass

 My husband and I looked out over a lush field one day.  He said, “How beautiful.”  I said, “Look, goldenrod.”  I admit that I’m not a big nature freak.  The great outdoors is fine, as long as there’s a working bathroom and some electrical outlets nearby.  (Roughing it is staying in a tent in my backyard.)  So it’s not that I don’t like nature.  It’s that I’m allergic to nature.  All of it.

I had my allergies tested recently.  I am allergic to almost every tree, grass, or weed in existence.  Green and I don’t get along.  Also, I’ve got allergies to those cute little fluffy kitties and puppies.  And birds.  Don’t get me started on how much I hate birds.  Even if their feathers didn’t make me cough and weeze, I’d want to strangle the chirp out of them. 

When I go into a garden, I can’t stop and smell the roses, unless I want lots of sneezing followed by a possible sinus infection.  I feel like Alice in the garden of live flowers – as if every flower were sneering at me and making rude comments.  “Haha, you think your Zyrtec will protect you, eh?  Eat pollen, evil flower-picking human!” 

I could try to hide indoors, but well-meaning people are always bringing nature indoors.  “Look at this beautiful house plant with the lovely mold growing in the soil!”  (I also have a mold allergy.  Shocked, aren’t you?)  Or, “See my cute widdle poodle Snookums – he likes you, awwww.”  Of course he llikes me, the little devil.  I really can’t figure out the concept of animals indoors anyway.  They shed, so you’ve got hair to rub off your clothes all the time.  I don’t even like my own hair once it’s left my body.

This is waiting under your covers.

I am also allergic to cows and horses, which means I can never realize my one, true dream of owning my own ranch . . . cough, cough, okay the sarcasm hurts.  But while I am not interested in gardening, farming, or ranching, I am interested in being able to breathe.  I want to go outdoors and not be worried about breathing in pollen.  I want to be indoors and not worry about the mold, or the dust mites (Never heard of dust mites?  They are teeny, tiny disgusting bugs that leave their feces all over the place.  In your carpet, your drapes, on your bed where you sleep.  Think of that when you go to bed tonight.)

There are treatments for allergies and asthma.  I’m on allergy shots, where they perversely expose you to stuff you are allergic to on purpose in hopes that eventually your body will quit reacting to it, or you’ll die, whichever’s first.  Also, I take antihistimines and decongestants – you’ve probably seen them advertised by that bee with the sexy Spanish accent.  (By the way, bees can also cause major, life-threatening allergic reactions and can hide deep in plants.  Think about that next time you garden.)  There are cases to keep your mattresses and pillows in that supposedly repell the bad guys, and filters you can buy to get the stuff out of the air – although how would one know if they really work, seeing as how no one can actually see the microscopic particles?  “Just trust us,” the over priced allergy products people say. 

Otherwise, about all I can do is avoid the triggers as much as I can.  But they’re everywhere, so this can easily lead to paranoia which can lead to murderous thoughts toward your husband for leaving the window open AGAIN even though you’ve been married to him for twelve years and he knows how sick the outdoors makes you.  He just likes the fresh air, ya know.  Well, he’s not going to have ANY air if he . . . well, you get the drift.  Allergies make you testy, and sick. They aren’t usually life threatening. (Unless it’s like peanuts.  People have actually died from kissing a person who ate a pack of peanuts.  Remember, protection people.  Ask your partner to wear a mouth guard).  They are, however, a daily hindrance, and can lead to frequent minor, but costly illnesses.  So that’s one reason why I’m not a nature lover.  Nature hated me first.

Also, there are no natural electrical outlets.

One response

  1. Want to go camping?

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