It's been really beautiful weather around here, the kind you can get outside and start darkening your skin in. (Not that you should. We know too much about skin cancer now) Being Native American, I used to get really dark in the summer, though. In fact, the other kids and I would sometimes hold contests, putting our arms together all summer long, to see who could get the darkest. I won, because I put the time in, people! I worked for the honor. Oh, and I might have had a slight melanin advantage, but that wasn't my fault. Then, one summer, disaster. I was in Florida, with my awesome base tan, oiled up and laying poolside, and I clearly had not enough respect for Florida sun versus Michigan sun. Well, it's the same sun, right? But I burned, for the first time in my life, in my early 20's, and it was a good one, a most respectable burn. Apparently the sun tries harder in Florida than it does up in the north. The little old ladies at the pool were tsking in sympathy, because they knew what was coming before I did. My skin was pink that night, right through my tan, and my arms felt funny and kind of like the skin was too tight. I showed them to everyone around dinner, and we remarked on how odd it looked. I put Noxema on, just like my girlfriend in college, who had red hair, and knew from burns. Still, I spent the next week peeling and hiding out in the cabin. Worse than that, my skin hasn't been able to tolerate the sun since. I get nasty rashes that look like psoriasis on my arms, if the sun even hits them through the car window. I am, as my friend Melanie gleefully points out, an Indian who can't go out in the sun. Respect Ra, folks, is all I'm saying.
As for the frosty nights, my poor garden is trembling in fear! We're fighting the frost as best we can, with every Elmo and Care Bears plastic cup we've got. My garden looks so silly, I had to take a picture for the blog.
Go, little bean plants, go! And yesterday, in a frenzy of domesticity, I bought pepper and tomato plants, too many for me to ever use. I don't even like growing tomatoes, darn it. They get those disgusting horned tomato worms on them, always. Then the kids and I have to pick them off, and it's all just too gross. So if you live near me and want a tomato plant, please stop by. I got extra.
And finally, a teaser. I bought myself a sock pattern and great yarn on Mother's Day, but I'll have to show pics next time, as the kids have to go to school!
Audubon's Guide to Spring Migration
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