A couple of weeks ago, my wife said she loved spring.

"Said" isn't the right word; she practically sang it: "I looooove spring."

"Yeah," I replied, "so does my allergist."

"Ohhhhhh," she said in her mocking, upbeat way.

There's plenty to enjoy about spring, including flowers and warmer weather. Change is good, for the most part.

But spring has a dark side, too.

A case in point: From the moment I woke up on Thursday, my plan was to mow the yard.

Actually, I'd picked Thursday when I decided there would be no mowing on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday.

I carried the plan around until it became automatic: Mowing = Thursday.

A funny thing happened on the drive home from work on Thursday. I started thinking about how much I didn't want to mow the yard. It's hot, sweaty work after a long day at the Mighty Daily Journal. Maybe Saturday morning would be a better time to mow the yard.

I felt pretty good about my new, improved plan; then I got home.

Earlier in the day, I'd left a house with an unruly yard, but it'd been surrounded on all sides by other unruly yards.

Every single one of those other yards had been neatly trimmed by the time I pulled into my carport.

It hit me like a blizzard of dandelions: I'll have to find something else to do on Saturday because Thursday is, indeed, mowing day. I was worn out before cranking the engine.

Do you want to know how much time I spent worrying about the yard in February? None, zero, zilch.

I'm just saying that spring brings all sorts of trouble. For instance, I let my hair grow longer in the winter to keep my ears warm. When it heats up, the hair gets lopped off.

Simple enough, right?

Except my hair guy, Philip Phipps, complicated things a few months ago.

"When you cut it too short, you get this Q-tip thing going on," he said.

"What?"

"Your hair's so thick that it sticks out if you don't have enough length," he said. "It's getting white like a Q-tip, too."

As the mercury kept rising higher each day, Philip's words churned in my mind. Then I played Frisbee with friends for a couple of hours.

When I woke up the next day, two things were clear:

* It's important to stretch before playing Frisbee.

* I no longer needed to keep my ears warm.

When I walked in, Philip said, "What are we doing today?"

"I need it short, short, short," I said.

"Scissors or clippers?"

"Whichever doesn't make me look like a Q-tip."

"No problem," he said.

No, my head doesn't look like a cotton swab. The worrying was for nothing, but I wouldn't have had reason to worry if not for spring. It's not all flowers and sunshine, people.

M. Scott Morris is a Daily Journal entertainment writer. Contact him at (662) 678-1589 or scott.morris@djournal.com.