Max and I came back from Rio last Sunday. As far as I can tell, his health did not suffer from the trip. I, on the other hand, have the kind of raging head cold that really gives the sense of lively microbes at play in my sinuses, throat, chest, etc. Thanks, Rio!
The other day, a colleague said simply, "summer colds are the worst." Always one to start whining at the least provocation, I would have to agree, if only because all the warm and cosy winter cold comforts do not appeal when you're trying to rest in a pool of your own sweat. Nor does air conditioning seem that great, rough as it is on a sore throat. Chicken soup does not beckon.
So what is the answer? Tequila. With lime and salt. Plenty of spicy pork wrapped up in a tortilla. Guacamole with fresh scallions and cilantro. The ministrations of someone very patient. Tons and tons of kleenex. Gallons of water. Garlic and more garlic. A screening of The Godfather. A private poetry reading.
And the promise of vacation coming very soon...
The other day, a colleague said simply, "summer colds are the worst." Always one to start whining at the least provocation, I would have to agree, if only because all the warm and cosy winter cold comforts do not appeal when you're trying to rest in a pool of your own sweat. Nor does air conditioning seem that great, rough as it is on a sore throat. Chicken soup does not beckon.
So what is the answer? Tequila. With lime and salt. Plenty of spicy pork wrapped up in a tortilla. Guacamole with fresh scallions and cilantro. The ministrations of someone very patient. Tons and tons of kleenex. Gallons of water. Garlic and more garlic. A screening of The Godfather. A private poetry reading.
And the promise of vacation coming very soon...
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