Here's the view from the balcony:
Occasionally someone goes by hitting a golf ball. (Is it just me or does golf seem completely impossible? I couldn't even hit the ball with success, let alone aim.)
Occasionally I see rabbits in my peripheral vision. They're nibbling on the grass below my window. I think I'm in paradise.
Adam spent a good part of today at his conference (but now he's here by me with his laptop) and I trailed behind Mark and Emma at the pools. It was warm enough that even I went for a dip in the water. After, I was sitting by Emma in the sun. She said, "Wow Mom, we are really white."
I'll never be like the woman I saw earlier. She was really, really tan. She had carefully teased and bleached hair, dagger long manicured nails, expensive looking sunglasses and pursed botoxed lips. She was standing carefully in the pool, her bare back exposed to the optimum amount of sun, her arms held away from her body so they would be evenly laid bare to sunlight. She had a kindle propped poolside so she could read.
Someone has to be the pasty white one, moving to shade after a few minutes because she doesn't want a sunburn. That will be me.
I've made peace with it.