Today

More on colds and cold cures. Everytime I dozed off in the night, Paul awoke me by a prodigious amount of coughing. Am I sorry for him? Of course not! I need my rest. He tried simply suppressing the cough - nearly burst a blood vessel. Water and cough linctus merely briefly palliative. I recommended a soother that I'd discovered when I developed bronchitis some years ago about four days before singing "Judas Maccabeus".

Take one Meggezone pastille and lodge it between your cheek and gum. It will slowly dissolve and send its soothing juice down your throat at a metered rate. Works, too. He stopped coughing and I got some sleep.

I managed to sing "Judas Maccabeus" all those years ago with one stuck to my hard palate.

In My Day

A much preferred preventative, when I was a young 'un, would occur some day in March/April. Daddy would keep us all off school, regardless of our state of health, and take us all on the first train heading for the South Coast. Our proximity to East Croydon meant that it was nearly always Brighton. We would get off the train and walk towards the sea. Daddy would buy us each a pint of shrimps in a paper bag (I wasn't so keen on that bit). Then we'd either walk the undercliff walk and have fish & chips at Rottingdean or get the open-top bus to Birling Gap or parade along the pier. "That'll blow away the winter colds," Daddy would proclaim. I didn't remind him that I hadn't had any colds and just enjoyed this parentally sanctioned way of bunking off school.

I fear that today will be one of those sneeze every 5 second days. Hey-ho!