Fremdenliebe

Haven’t had vertigo in a while. How pollen gets in the Eustachian tubes I have no idea. Anyway it was back yesterday, relegating me for hours to the couch so I wouldn’t sway and teeter and fall leaving a path of destruction in my wake. You’d be amazed how far you can fall when you’re six and a half feet tall. Six and a half feet, actually. So I didn’t. The cane helped, though walking with vertigo and a cane is a bit trickier. I practiced going up and down the stairs a few times. A little wobbly but getting it. Don’t fall, someone said helpfully. So I didn’t. Indeed I didn’t fall during the entire flare up. That used to be a regular feature, falling and sometimes awesome bruises. I’d get up and pretend it didn’t happen, like a cat running into a plate glass window. I meant to do that.

Better today though. Better since last night in fact. I stood up from the couch, walked three steps and loudly exclaimed Mein Fuhrer, I can valk! That startled whoever it was passing by the window. I heard their concerned stage whispers. Not everyone has seen Dr. Strangelove, apparently. I’m sure they think I’m a Trump voter.

Anyway, I could walk, and did, right into the kitchen and did the dishes.

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Hay fever

Some deluded plant around here thinks it’s May and begins wantonly dispersing pollen as the sun sets in crimson fire and giving me hay fever–in December. Only in Silver Lake would some ridiculous exotic from Bali or Martinique or New Jersey go into a horny plant reproduction frenzy at Christmas time, leaving me involuntarily humming Feliz Navidad between sneezes and eye watering and Kleenex like new fallen snow.