It is July and once again we have succumbed to the temptation of a summer rental. Apparently the seduction of a new experience was more powerful than the memory of our last rental. At that time we had fallen in love with a charming, rustic home on an island with beautiful beaches. At least I heard that the beaches were beautiful.
For three weeks I viewed life through a screened-in porch. I was loath to go outdoors for fear of being eaten alive by voracious mosquitoes. Mosquitoes that seemed to thrive on bug spray and had no respect for protective clothing.
But time does have a way of subduing unpleasant experiences. Otherwise, there would be no such thing as siblings, would there? So here we are again, committed to another three weeks in someone else’s house.