A trip acoss the border into Scotland we had planned,
We dreamed, anticipating, for the day was close at hand,
I wrote about it at the time, excitement unabashed…
Until disaster chose to strike and all our plans were dashed.
With one exploding coffee pot that melted cloth and skin,
Once bandaged like a mummy, disappointment settled in.
The trip was off, we couldn’t go, with me half burned alive…
And, till I was unmummified, I really couldn’t drive.
Now, Scotland once again is calling to the northward road;
I’m being so damned careful in and out of my abode
That you would be forgiven if you thought I was neurotic…
The trouble is I didn’t count on this antibiotic…
I flit from shade to shadow as the sun, I’m told, will burn,
How badly, I decided, I was not prepared to learn.
I wear long sleeves and cover up and plaster on the lotion
And when I have to go outside, I keep myself in motion.
But what with ponds and awkward sons requiring transportation
And sunny days with temperatures exceeding expectation,
And windscreens that will magnify the rays on hands and head…
Regardless of precautions, I am now a beetroot red.
My fingers have gone scarlet where I hold the steering wheel,
They were mostly protected by the sunblock, so they’ll heal.
I’ll pass the crimson cheekbones off as just a healthy glow,
The nose would rival Rudolph’s, though, and that’s a nasty blow.
I really couldn’t help it…I have done my best to hide,
But duty called and so we had to go out for a ride,
I pushed the wheelchair through the sun, tried not to stay out long,
“Your toes look like chorizo,” said my son. He wasn’t wrong.
It had been warm this morning and so when I had to choose,
I’d opted for my sandals, being cooler than my shoes,
And though I spread the sunblock on my hands and face and nose…
I never even thought about applying it to toes!
Now the offending articles protruding from my feet
Too well resemble sausages, far too well-done to eat,
The blistered skin refuses shoes and may reject the floor,
My mismanaged appendages are really awful sore.
The die is cast; I knew the score you’ll say, it serves me right…
And I will have to hide by day and just go out at night.
So take a tip from me next time the summer sun you greet…
Apply the sunblock lavishly… and don’t forget your feet!