Time To Hyde

Until the wind dies down and the trees that flowered late this year have stopped inviting bees in for a visit, I will be abiding in a state that is proximate to "going postal." So, please, if I lash out at you -- or you read of my misdeeds in other quarters of my existence -- know that none of it is personal. Between the allergies that make me want to smash things and the antihistamines that make me want to smash people, I am not the company you wish to keep at present.