Just like clockwork, I started sneezing on May 1st. I wondered if I was getting sick even though I felt tiptop. Then it hit me. It's May. Tra la, it's May, the lusty month of Maaayyy! (I had a part in the chorus of our high school production of Camelot and that ridiculous song still inhabits my memory banks. I wish I could shake it loose to make room for something more useful and less annoying.)
It's allergy season, and it's right on time. Bill has loaded up on Kleenex boxes, and there is one in every room in the house. I have resurrected my linen/cotton handkerchiefs and stuffed them in my purses. My eye drops and nasal spray are also in my purse. Zyrtec is in my coat pocket, and my Neti pot is getting its usual work out. It seems that the flowering trees are way more flowery this year. There is one in particular that my son, Will, loves. Since he is not home to enjoy it, I've been sending him periodic pictures of its emergence. Different angles, different times of the day. Here it is on the left.
May also marks the also the official christening of the Cattaragus creek, deep in the heart of the Zoar Valley. Bill and a crew of crazy canoeists and kayakers ventured out again this year to test their skills against the category 3 whitewater. I admit, I've been a part of that fine team of canoeist other years, and, while it is a superb way to spend a spring afternoon, I just wasn't feeling it this year.
Besides, my Kleenex would have been soaked before we'd left Burt's Landing.
Since they invariably dump their canoes somewhere along the way, few cell phones are taken on board. Bill always takes a disposable camera - so there is a record, but the photos are usually of poor quality because of the nature of the camera. The lack of cell phones means that those of us left behind, are in a constant state of worry. People do die on this run, and there are countless injuries, hypothermic reactions and broken paddles. I try to keep myself very busy on the days that Bill goes on these canoe trips.
But, I finally got the call that all was well- everyone survived, everyone dumped and everyone felt great. I know that feeling of exhaustion and exhilaration. It's the best. But, this year I chose to miss it.
Bill refuses to wimp out - he will go no matter what. He is the definition of indefatigable.
May also marks the also the official christening of the Cattaragus creek, deep in the heart of the Zoar Valley. Bill and a crew of crazy canoeists and kayakers ventured out again this year to test their skills against the category 3 whitewater. I admit, I've been a part of that fine team of canoeist other years, and, while it is a superb way to spend a spring afternoon, I just wasn't feeling it this year. 
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