pleasure in a box

My friend Leo is coming for a visit.

You have met him before several times.  Usually in walk-on roles in this situation comedy that is my life -- such as, one more day: a rumination about leap years and Leo's birthday.

Leo's wife, and my friend, Theresa, died last year (laying down the flowers).  I flew up to Scottsdale for her services, and invited Leo to come to Mexico whenever he liked for a stay at my new house.  It turned out he liked August.

I made certain he knew August was one of the -- how should I put it? -- less-temperate months for a visit to our villages by the sea.  His response was: "I know heat.  I live in Arizona."  Even when I described the additional discomfort of humidity and the complete lack of air conditioning, he was still ready to roll.

He will be here on Saturday.

But, being a good guest, he bought some gifts.  Aqua hammocks, he told me.  For the pool.  He ordered them though Amazon for delivery at my post office box.  My task was to track the packages.

And track I did.  From Bismarck to Chicago to Mexico City -- where the two boxes have been held up in customs since 4 August.  Or, so I thought.  The first one was at the post office yesterday when I stopped by to pick up my mail

The United States Postal Service web site still shows both of them in Mexico City.  Since one is here, I suspect the other must be on its way.  Amazon is a wonderful company.

I also finally have an answer to a question that has hung in my mind since Leo used the term "aqua hammock."  When I opened the box, I thought I would face the prospect of putting my hot air reputation to good use.  But no blowing was required.

The hammock is a large piece of comfortable foam -- as if an expensive bath mat had overdosed on steroids.  I have had an opportunity to use it for only about 15 minutes.  But it works as advertised. 

Reading my Kindle, I floated along as if on a cloud.  I am going to enjoy this gift.

But I will enjoy Leo's visit even more.  In a few more days, you will get to meet him.