This won’t be polite…
It’s so hot here. What makes it unbearable is the humidity. I feel like I am being steamed to perfection to become an Italian antipasto. All I would need is a bit of olive oil. Perhaps balsamic vinegar too. This is not an appropriate Fate for someone hailing from the dry-climate State of Colorado, far, far away from heat-wave inflicted Italy.
Astounding the number of costume changes in the span of My Sixteen Hour Days. T-shirts stained beyond recognition. The art of Helen Frankenthaller has nothing on me and my sweat. Yes, I sweat. Sweat a storm. Big storm. I sweat just sitting on the Loggia sipping ice-filled glasses of white wine with grapefruit juice. Drips pour to the floor while I try to fathom the Greek/EU Situation off the lap-top. I know how I would VOTE on this coming Sunday’s referendum. Does anyone? I say… Ο Θεός να σώσει τον Ελληνικό Λαό.
But, back to sweating… it becomes dire if I move. Doing stuff kicks my pores into Sweat Over-drive. Recent In-the-100+-Degree-Heat Tasks have been: rebuilding the cane thatching over the Fish Pond so no more little fishies-wishies won’t be found floating belly-up as in days past. Burials are in the hydrangea border below… watering the same so they too won’t be seen going belly-up by passing neighbors, which is quite a trick for a flowering plant… spraying verde rame on all the roses, as per You’s Commands via his incessant telephone text-messages. He’s a doctor, saving people’s eyes-sight through surgery. How does he have time to punch the keys on a cellphone all the time, hmmm? Mystery of Modern Medicine? It will remain so… and doing about 20 loads of laundry after an excruciatingly short stay of ONLY 2 nights by an American family from Michigan… they drove from Detroit to Toronto to save on the airfares!!!!!!!… and, simultaneously, a couple of adored young-cousins in from Minnesota on their honeymoon. Happy to see the changing-residence-every-two-days Americans head for one of the most preposterous tourist locals in all of Italy… Le Cinque Terre. It warrants a separate post. Very sad to see My Cuzs fly off on DELTA from Pisa’s Galileo Galilei International Airport to JFK & MSP and Home.
What all this means is the sweat I produce in abundance stays on my skin. I have a mighty heat-rash. Add that to the manifestations of constant sun poisoning… more red bumps… and heat-prostration and you got someone to look at… Me!!!… who resembles a poster-child for some horrific and unidentified sub-tropical jungle disease!!! I am miles away from those icky places. Lord, help me.
What could the remedy be? Zolfo. Sapone di zolfo. Sulphur soap. Soap made from sulphur sounds better. I purposely drove a half-hour this morning to buy a gigantic never-run-out quantity of sapone di zolfo. I came home and took a cleansing shower with said soap. However, it is not encouraging to read on the label that the product is for oily and impure skin. HELL!!! What’s fatty and impure about me? I’m an Anglo-Saxon whose skin was never designed to withstand prettily the combo of high temps and mugginess!!! Gads.