It started with a tickle.
One bloodshot eye. Two. Pressure behind the bridge of the nose. Voice wavering between a scratchy lower octave and a breathy Marilyn Monroe-ish pitch.
The inevitable finally happened. After everything The Old North State has thrown at me in the past half-dozen years — hurricanes and tropical storms, dogged heat and humidity, countless bites from (insert insect type here), total annihilation of my crops in a curious array of manners — I succumbed. Southern. Allergies.
Humans, like other animals, have two hardwired coping mechanisms to adverse situations: evolve, or adjust behavior. Evolution miiiight take a while, so it’s prescription food to the rescue.