It’s going to be another hot one today in Madison, Wisconsin. Temperatures are expected to climb and claw their way into the very high nineties. Early morning and already the humidity is beginning to tease and tighten the tangles in my dark hair. It is time to give in to the heat.
I didn’t make it out of Chapter Two of Fifty Shades of Grey last night before falling asleep. Maybe it’s the thick air that makes my eyes so heavy and leaves my will tired and weak as soon as I turn on my bedroom lamp. Or maybe it’s lines like “Ground swallow me up now!” and “-my mother is all about new business ventures.” that are like a double dose of NyQuil for me. This is how I feel so far – twenty-two pages in. I am not afraid of changing my mind.
This morning I am re-reading the first few pages of Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I’m sure the last time I read this was two summers ago and yet I can’t recall names or descriptions of any of the main characters. This lack of memory worries me. I know I read it because quite a few page corners are turned down to mark where his words come together in a way that gives me new understanding of the truth of our human-ness…
“Little by little, listening to her sleep, he pieced together the navigation chart of her dreams and sailed among the countless islands of her secret life.”
Like I said it’s summer and it’s hot. Rather than keep cool all day in the air conditioning, I prefer to sit still outside and read books that give off heat. Authors like Garcia Marquez and Sandra Cisneros (The House on Mango Street) inspire me to pick on fresh fruit and cheese right from the fridge then sip a cool drink – allowing its icy sweat to drip down my fingers while swinging gently in a hammock on a lazy afternoon in July.