This week, I have developed a peculiar type of cold. I don’t feel bad overall, and my sleeping is normal-for-me. (I’ve had major sleeping disturbances all my life, and colds usually make it much worse.) But I woke up on Friday with an inferno in my throat, and I’m blowing bright yellow snot. My good friend from Massachusetts told me that I’ve caught my first New England cold. ”When the leaves start changing color, so does what comes out of our noses. Welcome to New England!” Isn’t that awesome? I have always loved her way with words. I thought my first New England initiation experience would be hiking in ten degree weather after sliding my SUV into a ditch in one of the many No Service cellular dead spots around here. This is both less dangerous and more interesting, as well as more memorable.