My husband and I are having a great time in Puerto Rico. We are staying in Ponce, on the southern coast. We've been here since Thursday. This is what we see when we wake up:
I am enjoying the old-lady-suimsuit-with-a-skirt. If I had my druthers, I'd wear one from the early 1900's, you know, the wool swimming costumes that covered the body from neck to knee. But this is a nice compromise. There are plenty of ladies of a traditional build staying at this resort. So, no one is taking particular note of my size. But... I have skin which is the color of snow. I am using a sunblock meant for babies which is a white, waterproof cream. The result is that I, for all intents and purposes, glow in the dark. The people who are staying at this hotel are mostly residents of the island. Consequently, my opalescent skin raises eyebrows and rouses a level of pity. I told my husband that this would be a great advantage if I were swept out to sea. The rescue planes would be sure to spot me. This is me in my 80-year-old-lady disguise as I take a dip in the Caribbean Sea:
It was a strange Easter Sunday, not being home and not cooking a nice dinner and not seeing my kids, but it's been nice to be in a sunny, hot place.
P.S. In case you thought it sounded familiar, the title of this post is a line from West Side Story.