I figured out the Cedar Fever thing. It’s like an allergy only worse. And I didn’t have it until I went to that wedding, last weekend. I’m deathly allergic to weddings. I was hiking the lake again today, a slightly shorter route, coming across the Congress Avenue Bridge, the winter wind whipping up from the river tussling my [very sparse] chest hairs [like all three of them]. It’s late January, and I’m working on a summer tan. And as the evening rolls into night, after a little bit of Hank Hill, I got the last of the rough draft of the romance done. Yes!