Falling for...

Have I mentioned it before? The fact that it's hot here? The fact that there seems to be a distinct lack of seasons here? As much as the heat bothered me during the worst of summer, I haven't mind it too much. I'm a warmer-weather person anyway and, compared to coldest-rainiest-winter-in-35-years Morocco, March in Oman and the UAE were a total blessing.

But, hey, March is the time where the weather had better be shaping up anyway, where I come from. So, even though it's been in an extreme way, March through September should be hot. I know I mentioned just the other day how I'd miss my fall walks and trees, but my own memory combined with facebook, blogger and, yes, even Williams-Sonoma, are all collaborating to make me really miss the seasons.

I got an email a couple of weeks ago about Esther's potential Halloween outfits for her pup, everyone and her brother seems to be posting status updates about apple cider and carving pumpkins, my sister-in-law and her roomies are baking up gorgeous squash pizzas in my old house and now, even one of my little internet pleasures - searching Williams-Sonoma - has turned up heartache.

But so what if this year we won't be carving pumpkins and camping and apple-orcharding and roasting perfect turkeys while football blares on in the background...this year we will live in the memories of times past and make a few that we'll keep around during the times when things are "normal" (if there ever again will be such a time!).

Like when Esther (who lived with me for years) would celebrate fall by purchasing tiny gourds to decorate our dinner table come fall.

Or the year in college I had such a ridiculous Halloween costume that people still remember it (oh, the follies of youth).

Long walks in the 'hood with Vitale, MA, Jess and lots of other friends who stopped in.

Mulled cider on the stovetop.

Walking to work at Preston-Osborne or Smiley Pete and collecting leaves or kicking over piles of them.

Saturday mornings at Magees with warming coffee and chitchat.

Halloween parties - and the first year I owned my house and had tricker-treaters.

Thanksgiving with my family - and last year, when I had the privelege of two Thanksgivings.




What are your favorite memories?

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em...at the mall

Daily report
Hazy, 95 degrees

It won't come as a surprise, if you know how I feel about malls, that I at first refused Emma's kind offer to drop me after work at Al Jimi where "at least there are taxis lined up waiting." After her gentle prodding and the insistence of the heat, which was alternately daring me to walk a bit further in search of a cab and pushing me toward the car door.

I accepted and rationalized the trip by heading into the mall's grocery store to pick up some essentials before stepping back out into the heat and walking a few short steps to the nearest cab--one of the nice, new ones with reliable air conditioning, uniformed drivers who speak English and, of course, the meters that start a dirham higher than the cars with dents, sometimes-cracked windows and English-challenged drivers (with an admittedly Arabic-challenged rider!).

I know, I know. I'm spoiled. But Jacob knew it going in. And, besides, I got the frozen chicken home...still frozen!

Anyone's grass is greener than my sand

I remember vividly days spent barricaded inside residences of Kentucky and Indiana during rainy, cold, snowing or even cloudy days that were too "unpleasant" to venture out. I pined away for visits to Venessa in California or Michelle in the Keys, I counted down until the next vacation flyaway. I scorned air conditioning until the last possible moment (much to the chagrin of my roommate and my dog). I would drive my car with the windows down in lieu of "processed air."

When winter came this year, I laughed at my fellow Lexingtonians who'd be facing months more of chilly weather. This year was one I wouldn't have to spend waiting until May for sunshine and warmth. I loved answering the question about whether I'd like living in the desert. Tropical temperatures, I thought, I'll be sunbathing on the roof after classes. I scoffed at friends and family with experience in the Middle East who told of the burdensome heat of June through August.

I was even pretty obstinate during these last few days of 90-some degree temperatures when catching a cab within a few moments was requisite, but also manageable. That was...until today. I stood outside for 20 hot, sunburned, shadeless, helpless, sweaty, desperation-inducing, taxi-less moments. To make matters worse, every single cab that passed by with a passenger was turning out of the blasted MALL. Like no one in this darn country has anything better to do than SHOP-at a stupid MALL-that they go to EVERY DAY! My temper burned up every time I saw those taxi drivers wave me off and then my feet started burning too. Up through the soles radiated all the concentrated heat of a sidewalk that would have burned an egg on contact, let alone fried it.

Then it just started to hit me. What in the world must I look like, standing there on the side of the road, this Western woman, wearing her pants and high heels, not covered, not even carrying an umbrella to shield her from the sun. I bet they were all driving by thinking I looked about as funny as I think the dudes are who dye their beards bright red with Henna and couldn't help laughing at the thought of I thinking I was weird and just then, a cab. Salvation.

Seeing as the temperatures here are settling into (a cool) 100 or so and we have nowhere to go but up, I can't even imagine how much hotter it's going to get. Even the border guard checking my passport asked me from his air conditioned booth, "Why you are walking? It's hot! You should not be walk!"

Tell me about it.