The weather is beautiful. Through the window the pale blue of the late evening sky is tinting my white tablecloth. The robins and doves and others are filling the backyard with wonderful music, and with the back door ajar and the screen door shut I can hear them well. Crisp little wisps of spent blossom from the plum tree have spread across the deck in the breeze, like cinnamon and sugar on my toast from the shaker in the kitchen.
I can imagine the cool breeze filling my nose with delights - fresh-mowed grass, lilac fumes, pond kissed dampness sneaking in low. I can close my eyes and remember the black padded mat I use for sunbathing warming up and helping me soak in the tingling rays.
After the long, cold winter this is what I've been waiting for. And I can't have it. And it rubs me raw. The mosquitoes are so hungry and so many that I stop each time I come in the door to slap as many as I can before they follow me into the house. It makes me want to cry. I want to go where I can sit on my porch in the evening. Is there a real place like that? I don't want to drool over a magazine picture of beaches and beautiful jungles - I want proof there is a place where the toilets are clean, the bed is warm, and the deck is safe - a place where I can sit in peace and quiet and not bleed to the bugs!!!
It doesn't seem like too much to ask...
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