August 2 -- Paul Gauguin, Still Life with Teapot and Fruit. Cali felt like she was pushing through wet gauze as she walked from the house. The humidity had to be up over eighty percent and there wasn't a breath of air stirring. She walked down the sand and coral gravel road toward the sea. There had to be a breeze there. Maybe she'd walk into the lagoon until the water came up to her chin and just stay there until dark. Milo wouldn't let her go out in her bikini. He insisted that she wear shorts and a tank, at least, and he thought a loose dress would be better, more modest, he said. How can he preach modesty to me when half the young women run around topless?
I think Milo's in for a surprise. Cali's about ready to rebel. And who's on the beach ready to help her with that? Heh, heh, heh... maybe if it's quiet at work I'll put pencil to paper and find out. Better toss a notebook in my backpack. Not that I don't have a little pad but I might need something with room for more than 10 words on a page. Ha, there's the "day book" Robin passed out in a poetry workshop a few years back. Perfect. The pages are even unlined, my favorite kind. Thanks, Robin.