My father was dark complexioned - olive skinned and almost Spanish looking; he adored heat and took to the sun very well; in fact, he went almost mahogany when on holidays gently roasting himself in the sun.
However, as he aged, while he still loved warmth, his preference for being cooked declined somewhat, and he grew to love sitting in the shade in hot and warm climates.
I also have a considerable tolerance for heat, but I have noticed, that I, too, increasingly like to sit in the shade when the weather has moved from warm to - ah, hot.
And I swear by citronella, in candles or creams, or in anything, such as an eau de perfume - I love citrus scents; in truth, if I didn't need it to repel flying menaces, I'd still love it.
Coffee is on my mind, too.
Must order some more Ethiopian.
They must be young. Very young.
I remember my parents roaring at us for similar reasons when we were small and energetic and desperate to run around early in the summer mornings during a week end while they attempted to snatch an extra hour or two in bed.
Remember this post and that feeling, as in, put a sort of book mark on this post, and look back in around a decade or so and marvel: This is because the day will come when they are teenagers and nuclear grade weaponry will not arouse them from their slumber or persuade them to want to leave their beds at week-ends much before noon - teenagers need and love sleep. Meanwhile, I predict that you will roar at them about wasting their lives in bed and that life is supposed to be for living. They will yawn at you, and think you utterly tedious and a complete killjoy.
