When it started to be summer-y, I went out to the Rite-Aid and bought two types of sunscreen: the facial kind for everyday and the ultra-sweatproof, waterproof spray-on kind for fun in the sun. Even though there were plenty of only-half sunny days, I made sure to be careful with the sunscreen, avoid painful burn and melanoma besides.
For example, today. I knew I was going to be out in the sun planting flowers for the fair city of Provo, so I put on my usual sunscreen, then also sprayed down my arms, legs and neck. I even sprayed down my part so my scalp wouldn't burn, even though I was planning on wearing my straw cowboy hat. I made sure to apply 15 minutes before going into the sun so that I'd be well protected.
We planted for three hours, even though it only felt like an hour and a half. We planted literally hundreds of zinnias, dreamland red colored (which would be a good font color...), in a planter along Center Street. We worked past blisters and blisters popping and "phase one" of loose planting and "phase two" of dense planting. We rocked the Amber Cox Memorial flowerbed.
So tonight, roasting wieners over a fire, I thought, "say, I'm facing a campfire, but my back is warm. That's weird." I felt back there with my hand and... no! I got a Plumber's Tan! While I was working, leaning over, I must have exposed my crescent, my intercontinental drift, the flatland before the crackland, the giraffe, trashy tattoo canvas, whatever you want to call it, to all of the fair city of Provo while I was working. On Center Street. For three hours. Really, it's decent that we didn't get honked at. But tonight I'm taking a cool shower and some asprin. And I think I'll be sleeping on my side.