A friend called from Southern California this morning, just as I was leaving the hair salon. I stepped out from an air-conditioned heaven into 92 degrees of heat and humidity. It’s the end of August for God’s sake….it’s supposed to start getting at least a tad bit cooler! My hair has poofed into a basketball just walking across the parking lot to my car.
I sat in the car for a few minutes listening to Silvia’s voice mail and then called her back straight-away. It was wonderful to hear a familiar voice. As she spoke my mind drifted; I could see us cycling on The Strand, along the ocean, the ocean breeze and sea air invigorating no matter what time of day we were out; I could see dolphins frolicking in the water as they did so many times during our early morning rides. I tried to sound upbeat during our short phone conversation, joking about the bugs that I keep finding and how the pest control dude must think I’m a lunatic. Once off the phone a flood of beach city memories remained for the duration of my drive home.
A happy memory needs to fill this space today so that I don’t fall off my own by-design-cliff-of-despair (I know…way too dramatic!). So here it is. A photo of my adorable nephew affectionately called “The Cheech-meister” posing by a surfer’s memorial statue in Hermosa Beach. He visited his Zia CC (that would be me) last year and he and his mamma had a fun time at the beach. I wish my sis and I were back on the beach, sand between our toes looking for seashells. For now, memories will have to do and on the bliss-o-meter, those are a plus-10.
