Growing up in the Willamette valley causes you to become resigned to the endless cycle of colds, chills and allergies. When my father moved to the coast a decade ago he discovered that the only time he got ill was when he drove to the valley to visit friends and family. Hence the tradition of calling the Willamette Valley the Valley of Sickness

I had been rejoicing in Australia that I had avoided the winter chills, flues and depression that are part and parcel of living in Oregon but no sooner had I relaxed upon my home soil but I was struck low with the dreaded “Spring Cold”. Mostly a flu with a heavy dash of early season allergies . My nose has gone from being an olfactory organ to a drip faucet, my sinuses felt as if they had tripled or even quadrupled in size and were now trying valiantly to leap out of my face. My poor little throat would have felt better if I had been gargling acid.

Oh Well, home for a hot bath, cold medicine and a book in front of the fire while Peter makes me dinner.

For more info about the history of the Willamette Valley’s history as the Valley of Sickness read this wonderful article:

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