When You Have a Cold, There is No Such Thing as Overmedication

I am conscious on borrowed time, having taken enough Benadryl to end my pain, at least for the next six hours. I made the mistake today of assuming that I could breathe on my own and stopped the near-constant ingestion of elephant-size doses of cold medication.

Then I picked several bushels (if bushels are the size of Home Depot buckets) of grapes from the back yard, washed and de-stemmed them, and began making them into grape jelly until I collapsed in a quivering mass of phlegm, requiring me to put the rest in the fridge for when I am safely tucked back into my cloud of Benadryl, Sudafed, Claritin and Pinot Grigio.

Here's Dean last week in LA at the moment he realized he no longer had The Cold, and had passed it safely on to me. I would post some action photos of the races, but it turns out I'm a lousy action photographer, especially when my son is involved, and people have been landing face down on other people's handle bars all night.

More wisdom later.