When my very dear friend, Eileen, passed away in February, her daughter included “sun worshipper” in her obituary. And sun worshipper she was, so I suppose that’s where love of sunning began for me. It’s not even about the accompanying tan. I just believe I am solar-powered.
Here are some random, funny memories involved in the pursuit of the sun. I say pursuit because though I love the beach and that is always first choice, one must be inventive.
Eileen’s kitchen had sliding glass doors so even in winter you could grab some rays Now I turn the chair in my living room to take advantage of the winter sun pouring in the windows, and pretend I’m on a tropical island. A dab of coconut oil on the arm helps.
One February vacation, lying out in the yard by my pool in West Orange, I found a small space that didn’t have ice. I set up my lounge chair and had a sleeping bag which I would wrap around me when the clouds covered the sun. My husky shepherd was in heaven, lying on the ice near me. Back at school, I had a tan while those who had been in rainy Florida did not.
In my yard in West Orange, I would often lie on a lounge chair, an electric fan plugged in and directed on me. Better yet, I used a specially rigged hose that fastened around the frame of the lounge and provided a gentle, cooling spray through tiny holes. (Thanks Pi)
On a day early in May, some years ago, my daughter and I played hooky from school so we could hit the beach for the first time that season. The next day at school I was left to explain why/how I had a sunburn on my eyelids.
By a cruel twist of fate, I am now on a medication that makes me sun-sensitive. Before going out in the sun, I have to use a variety of products, including flesh-colored zinc for my nose and sunscreens with ridiculously high SPF’s I have invested in cover-up clothes to put on after my 20 minutes of sun and have even found a high-necked swimsuit, but I won’t give up the sun.
© Dorothy C. Judd
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