Fall season - will it always equal flu season for me ? (:

The last day or so I have been under the radar of outdoors activity and wandering in the last rays of sun that hastily sheds its warmth turning into just a shiny globule in the sky. I have been under the weather in other words or simply nursing a minor cold and a major nuisance of highly irritated nostril area. (: We got a heater today - rather just as a courtesy gesture for my cold-burdened body & not a real solution - because knowing my body I have no doubts that the salvation will have to come from within - inner defense mechanism has to kick in sooner or later. But tons of fresh organic garlic gobbled up every hour or so should help too - I have nobody except my hubby to enchant with my elfin breath, hence - sky is the limit in garlic consumption. Today I braved to go out for a short walk - & by short I mean a really short walk- 5 blocks down Sutton Place & back along the same route. I had to dress warmly, so I

decided not to risk and wrapped myself in layers. If you saw me, you would think that I was going straight to Magadan exile or even farther. I put on, my woolen sweater with a hood, with a difficulty squeezed myself into a wrinkled coat and crowned it all with a finishing touch - turquoise-colored scarf around my neck. And triumphantly stepped outside. What I saw caused my deep frustration - people were walking around in short T-shirts and dresses. But it was too late for me to retreat from my position, so I rolled forward. Maybe having walked three blocks or so I felt the treacherous sweat coming up my neck. I felt how all the doormen sympathetically glimpsed at my decadently sad outfit, but at least I gave them some needed nutrients providing them with a curious subject for ruminations. They will be wondering whether it was some eccentric persona living at Sutton Place or just a regular girl with an irregular cold (: On the way back I had to give in and slowly started shedding my layers- first off went the hood, then the scarf, lastly the coat`s belt was undone. But upon turning around the corner I felt a sharp hug of a strong fall wind and I knew that it was him, not the sun, who was the master and the boss - and I hurried to protect my shivering body by holding the coat together... Arthur Rimbaud had his Season in Hell and nowadays we all live through flu seasons because what is more contagious than life itself???