Finally finally finally the weather has turned and it's cool and dry enough to have the windows open and real actual fresh air coming in the house. Not hearing the air conditioner turn on every few minutes is a relief. I never think it's bugging me until it stops and I realize that I had been dreading the next time it kicked on and started to hum, then the fan would begin to blow adding another layer of repetitive sound to my already tenuous hold on sanity. Cooler and quieter is better.
August 16--Felidhu, Maldives. It looked so idyllic in the brochure and every comment on the Maldives website gave it four or five stars. No one said that the woodwork all over the resort would be gray where the varnish had flaked off and it would be spongy from the damp and the salt it had absorbed. Not one commenter said a word about the tacky tiki decorations that festooned the buffet area being covered by dust and cobwebs so that every mouthful of food wore a fine coating of it. There was no mention of the fact that the breeze died every afternoon around 3:30 and the no-seeums, mosquitoes, and biting flies rose in buzzing clouds that drove even the hardiest, DEET soaked tourist indoors. Someone should warn people that those gorgeous white sand beaches are infested with sand fleas that burrow under your skin making red welts that itch like crazy. Amy and Rick loved the diving but decided if they ever came back to the Maldives they'd avoid the land.
Okay, then. Evidently I'm not as good at hiding my rotten mood as I thought I was. Talk among yourselves.
--Barbara
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