Thursday, June 10, 2004

Sauna stanza

It's say the least. My little apartment has one set of windows that face the south. Lovely for the plants, great for early morning rises, but sweltering for these hazy summer days.

Last night, Dad, Grandma, some friends of the family, and I had dinner at my place before a delightful cello concert. The pork wasn't the only thing roasting after just five minutes in my oven room, my sauna stanza. Friends and family were awfully understanding and smiled through a sweaty dinner all the same, the promise of an air conditioned theater in the near future.

Jackie, remember the heat of last summer in Italia? We were crisping on the beach (playing handkerchief games) or slowly climbing the hill toward the gelateria (again) or rolling down all the windows in Antonello's car for a breezy afternoon ride (the wind so strong you could barely hear us belting out Indigo Girl songs - a perk for poor Antonello, I'm sure).

This hot sun has its I kept reminding myself last summer, the wine should be suburb from 2003. This year I should have basil plants the size of palms.



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