Tuesday, March 22, 2011

losing my cool


Spring is Mama Nature's menopause.  At least here on the Mexican beach.


Hot flashes.  Cold flashes.  Constantly changing.


And never with any warning.


This winter has been pleasantly cool.  Long pant, jacket cool.  Never lower than the 60s.  But we beach people are weather sissies -- we cannot sleep with anything separating our skin from the night's warmth.


The cool is a thing of the past -- as of this week.  I have no weather data.  But the days are warming.  And the nights are more humid.  It is fan time.


Within a month I will be longing for the cool.


But not yet.  There is still time to stretch out in the garden hammock.  To watch the birds trim the bushes of errant insects.  To indulge in my role as the lazing author.


Dorothy Collins sings in the living room -- competing with my neighbor's mariachi tape.  Dorothy is holding her own.  Even though she is telling us she is "Losing My Mind."  I feel her pain.


She sings at my request.  For some reason, I associate the song with my year in Greece.  Auditioning young women to be the next ex-Mrs. Cotton.


But that was a callow fellow I no longer know.  The guy in the hammock has enough spins on his odometer to fully appreciate that life sometimes leaves us "standing in the middle of the floor."


And, sometimes, it is A-OK to just stand there -- knowing fully well that you are not losing your mind.


Like Mother Nature, we will go hot and cold.  And life's cycle will continue to roll.

15 comments:

Tancho said...

Remember how much you love Mother Nature in about 60 to 90 days.....

Steve Cotton said...

The dew point is already 71. We usually do not see humidity like that until high summer. I may be heading to the highlands earlier than I thought.

Glorv1 said...

Hopefully the "hot" isn't too hot. Just enjoy like you've been enjoying. You sound happy Steve and I'm happy for you. Take care.

NWexican said...

Maybe the heat IS getting to you as you are giving way to more of your lurid past. Perhaps it is time to head back up the hill to the "retirement sheik" parts of Mexico..

Trinidad said...

Your hammock looks increidbly inviting. I hope to have something similar in my yard along with a pool, that would be nice.

Marie-wolff said...

Perhaps it's time to take a nice cruise?

Steve Cotton said...

Funny you should say that. I am off to Rome on a ship in just over a month.

Steve Cotton said...

I think I could live under house arrest if I just had access to that hammock.

Steve Cotton said...

The humidity made it to the top category of the dew point scale yesterday and last night. The damp days are upon us.

Alee' Robbins said...

Such a simple day turned into a post that is simply lovely ;-)

Steve Cotton said...

You are too kind. But it was a lovely day.

I think our cool is gone until winter.

Nita said...

If I had a patio and a hammock that looks like that , I believe I could put up with the heat. It's looks so restful., well, maybe except for the Mariachi Band.

ANM said...

Are you really sure, Old Duck, that you want to head to the "highlands"? The political atmosphere at that higher elevation may not be conducive to healthy blood pressure. Or is that only in Scotland where altitude has that effect on you.

It did not rain today in the long valley. In fact, the sun came out in later afternoon, and I spent the day cleaning up beds and mowing. Perfect temp. high 60s, no humidity to speak of.

But we do not have a mariachi band in the neighborhood. Once in a while that would be fine, Cinqo de Mayo perhaps. But I prefer my neighbors to keep their musical predilections close to their own ears, unless we are all outside in someone's yard, sipping gin and tonics and caring less and less about who gives a fig.

ANM

Steve Cotton said...

My Scottish ancestors would have been shocked at how high the Mexican highlands are. As for shared music, I share every crowing cock, angry spouse, and wailing baby in my neighborhood. Any music is always a nice relief -- even if there is an ensuing battle of the bands. I must admit, though, Mozart seldom prevails.

Steve Cotton said...

The patio relieves a good deal of the humidity. Naps heal everything.