Oh man that's sick!

I mean...I'm sick...again. Bah on sickness, I wanna go to heaven. My kids are sick...allergies? What is that about. I have lived in Georgia all my stinkin life and I have prided myself on NEVER NO NOT ONE SINGLE TIME EVER having allergies. I think the pine trees want revenge. Because last year we cut down about 30 of them between our yard and our next door neighbors. We left one. And if you have read my blog, you recently saw that last pine tree's untimely demise courtesy of my husband and a chain saw. MUAHHAHAHAHA! I laughed that day with vicious joy...at last! no more pokey pine cones and no more raking up pine straw in order to remind myself of the color of grass. You know, before I had that last tree cut down, I actually used to talk smack to it from my kitchen window. In hindsight, this may not have been the best idea. Good thing I am not a pantheist. But seriously, I used to tell the tree that it's days were numbered and that it better not get too comfortable housing nasty lawn-furniture-destroying squirrels and blocking the sun's view of my pitiable garden. Oh no, the day was coming when that tree would be mulch and firewood. Little did I know...that tree cursed me back. Not that I plan on being firewood. But I suppose I have learned the hard way not to talk smack to trees. There is, however, an azalea bush in the front garden...