Today

Took a lovely walk with Paul up the lane last night. I noticed (and photographed) the beautiful campion. The hedgerows were very lush and green (plentiful rain does have some virtues). Everything was especially fragrant: the elderflower, remains of the hawthorn, crushed wild garlic leaves, philadelphus in people's gardens. Regrettably, the farm was also fragrant in its own special way.

Did Paul appreciate this? Not at all; he was too busy sneezing. The hayfever season's started. Each year we say "it's not too bad this year" then off he goes. Anti-histamines seem to give him every possible side-effect and turn him into a homicidal maniac to boot. Even those that claim not to make you sleepy, have him snoozing in seconds and as for tried and trusted Piriton - he passes out for days.

When I'm feeling especially wicked, I think that he somehow enjoys the sneezing. I know this can't be true, but they are certainly a great show. On occasions he even works up to a sneeze and nothing happens! And he's not alone; Lizzie sneezes almost constantly with almost no provocation and Becky does seasonal rhinitis with the best of them.

In My Day

I remember Paul once saying to me, back in about 1974 "I really enjoy a good sneeze." Then came the hot summer of 1976. The one us old 'uns all talk about. Day after day of hot, dry weather. No point in going to bed before 1.00 AM - too hot indoors. We used to lie out on the lawn at 33 Rowan Avenue until the small hours. In Eastbourne, at least, there was also a constant warmish wind - a sort of Khamsin.

When Paul started to sneeze, we assumed that it was a cold, but as time wore on and the sneezing didn't wear off, we realised it was hayfever. As a dutiful wife I tried all kinds of things to help: Spraying the bedroom with a mister, damping the pillows, using an air filter (which roared gently all night), closing windows, opening windows, recommending baths and various forms of treatments.

Over the years Paul has tried: anti-histamines of all flavours, injections of allergens supposed to desensitise you (oh he was bad after that attempt), nasal sprays, drops and oils, herbal treatments, flannels over the face, masks, menthol cigarettes, oxygen inhalation, alternative therapies, homoeopathy, alcohol, ignoring it. Nothing seems to make any difference.

Yet he says he loves the summer; his birthday is in June and he's generally in the thick of the sneezing and sniffling during whatever celebration is on offer. You'd think he'd welcome the trend towards the chillier, damper summers.

Ah well, I told him yesterday that he'll probably be over it by the time he's 100.