Months go by quickly don’t they? One week you’re getting used to it being June, the next week it’s the middle of June, and the week after… it’s nearly July.
That means that (hopefully) this wretched hay fever season is nearly over (for me). The grass will have finished its pollination cycle and the ryes and the timothys will be happily blooming at last, instead of floating around and terrorising us all.
I say all. Not everyone gets it. I didn’t get it, I mean at least until I finished university. Now it seems, we’re adding Clarityn to the weekly shop.
My eyes are itchy tonight. My wife told me to use the gel that’s ‘on top of the cupboard’ at the top of the stairs, and I accidentally used sun cream. It must have looked like war paint - or perhaps the Australian cricket team, circa 1993. Apparently, you’re supposed to dab it on, rather than smear it under your eye sockets. Then I tried washing the sun cream out of my eyes (it had gone in) but I used hot water by mistake. That was painful. In the end she just told me to go to bed and wait for her before trying again.
My friend James says that hay fever is ‘from the devil’. I take his point, though it seems unlikely that Lucifer was in charge of floral pollination mechanics. My theology isn’t strong enough to argue about it, but it is pretty horrendous whether allergic rhinitis is man-made somehow, just one of those things, or was cooked up in Hell’s Kitchen by angry demons.
Anyway, roll on the middle of June. Just don’t roll on the sun cream when your wife gave you specific instructions to… well anyway. It’ll soon be July.
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