Beware, this pool looks cool, but the water is hot as…
If it’s fall in Tropica, it’s bochorno. Sultry, stuffy, sweltering, sweaty, steaming, suffering, suffocating, swampy. Oppressive. Impossible. Giving up. Giving in.
It’s 7 a.m. and drops of sweat are sliding down my butt as I sit writing this. I am sitting still. It’s 7 a.m. I just had to repeat that.
Wolfgang, my teaching assistant, knows the perfect moment to hop on the table to give my students much needed encouragement and stress relief.
Much to my surprise and delight, my dining room has become a room filled with desire. It resonates with the energy of struggle and hope for dreams.
This is luxury: Swimming in the Gulf and not seeing another person as far as the eye can see.
If April is the cruelest month, then August is the lostest month. And it’s a good time to find yourself.
Staycating is the ultimate vacation destination in August. The world is on vacation: crowds, higher prices, delays. True, there is a sense of joining in the fun, and many art and music festivals are held during this high season. But…
…the best secret of August is your own house.
My darling Bob,
Last week whilst I was busy living, you were busy dying. I was boating on the Gulf, sipping Prosecco and cutting into a birthday cake and you were leaving.
Separated by thousands of miles, you left your old age on the day I entered mine. You slipped out, while I slipped in, no, burst in, “To rage against the dying light.”
I’m usually never at a loss for words…but yes, my friends, I have succumbed to the inertia that is the essence of the word: summer.
What is summer like in a place where it feels like summer all year round? Even in Tropica there are subtle seasons. School’s out just like everywhere and life slows down even more. The weather is, if you can believe it, hotter and stickier. Meriland empties out like Paris in August, with everyone going to their beach houses on the Gulf.