In a message dated 6/20/2007 7:59:24 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,  
[log in to unmask] writes:

>  Kate Troy wrote:
> Well, Rick, yes, there happens to be beach  nearby, but I don't hang
> much at the beach in summer; it's a little  hot.  But, I can always
> read it while hibernating inside the  house.  In Florida, people
> hibernate in summer, not  winter.

In central illinois about the only decent time not to hibernate  is in
the fall. We have wonderful falls, but in the 'spring' there is  often
not much of a break between the day we turn off our furnace and the  day
we turn on our air conditioning. Once or twice it has been less than  24


We had a bad storm yesterday and the cable was out for over 24 years, which  
in our case means  the computer was also out, not an unusual  circumstance in 
summer.  My husband is on his second book in two  days.  His first one was a 
biography on Dashiel Hammett.  He started  to read a novel that I had on the 
shelf, The Red Tent, but threw it aside after  a couple of pages.  He was 
reading short stories by Fitzgerald, but  the cable was turned on at about 4:00 this 
afternoon, just before everyone  came home from work.  ha ha. The cable 
company didn't  want hundreds of angry phone calls.  And, I hear that it's a 
temporary  fix. Lightening struck at one of its main transmitters on this island and 
 destroyed it completely. There was a fire.  But, now it's back on and  I 
hear the Red Sox in the background.  ESPN was kind enough to feature them  
tonight and it is comforting to hear them in the background of my  life.  But, both 
my husband and I definitely read a lot more in summer than  winter due to 
weather considerations. When it's not lightening, the sun is  burning and the 
humidity is soaring. But, it's also very beautiful.   Everything is green outside 
and the tropical landscaping and flowers are  magnificent.  The storms last 
only an hour or so; then the world  outside becomes very still, and sultry and 
romantic .  We go out for  evening walks. It's the season for evening walks.  
It's the season for  flopping on the sofa with a book in the afternoon, gazing 
up now and then  outside at the hibiscus and the bougainvillea bushes, and to 
hear in the  background, not the birds that playing outside my front door on 
the  sea grape trees or the boats pulling into the back bay  and sounding their 
horns, for I have the air conditioning on, but an  enthusiastic voice 
informing me that Big Papi just did another  home run.

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