Sneezing time

The eastern sky is beginning to lighten with the dawn, as I lie listening to the chug of the fishing boats heading out to deep waters. The stillness of the early hours brings an onshore drift of cool air. It promises to be another very warm day for this time of year, with a traditional Berg wind coming down to the coast from the high interior - a dry, hot wind that makes for a bad hair day - more electricity than is generated by Eskom!
The onset of the flower season has also brought another discomfort - hay fever! There is something about a hay-fever induced sneeze that is both satisfying and exhausting. It seems to start in the soles of the feet and rushes out exuberantly through the mouth, accompanied by a sound that varies from a delicate  and ladylike 'achoo' to a robust shout worthy of the grunts of the world's leading tennis players that can be heard by all the neighbours. Six or seven of those are the perfect start to the day, and that's before I've made my first cup of tea.
The accompanying drip of the nose, basically just water and nothing to be alarmed about, makes its appearance at the most inopportune moments - when you are bending down, planting seedlings with gardening gloves on and you don't have time to get out a tissue, so use the back of the glove, or even worse, at the till in the supermarket as you are scratching in your purse for a R2 coin while desperately sniffing that drip back in!
Fortunately this season is very short, otherwise I might have to resort to stuffing rolled up tissues in my nose and look like a walrus.