Soaking in a Tub of Milk and Honey to Cure a La Paz Sunburn

This is where I soak in milk and honey
This is where I soak in milk and honey.

Beauty may only be skin deep.

But when you have dry, itchy, and sensitive skin, it is hard to feel beautiful! And to me, new cures for dry skin sound like a siren song.

I read on the Internet that honey was curative, restorative, and soothing and a good sunburn treatment. And everything you read on the Internet is true, right?

Standing naked in my bathroom, arms outstretched, and drenched in honey, I wondered just how I was going to get through the day. I was so sticky! I could not put on clothes. If I put my arms down, they would be glued to my side. And ditto for slipping on flip-flops. Well, I couldn’t actually put on flip-flops because my feet and the bathmat were quickly becoming a bonded pair.

So how did this honey-dipped Susan come about? Here is the true tale.

Living on the beach in La Paz, Baja California Sur, has its joys, but the dry, dry climate and searing sun make it hard for me to keep cool and my skin soft and supple, not itchy and dehydrated. Added to my daily woes of dry, itchy skin, I had a sunburn that left me looking and feeling like a seared steak.

A few weeks ago on our anniversary, my beloved and I spent the day at La Concha Beach Resort in La Paz. It is an old hotel with a white sand beach lined with palapas. After a lovely, leisurely breakfast, we staked out a palapa and some lounge chairs in the sun. It was a cool, breezy day; the sun felt good. I was enjoying a book on my Kindle when I fell into a heavy, succulent sleep. Sometime later, kids, playing and screeching, woke me.

I felt hot and a little drugged by my slumber, but felt no warning tingle of sunburn.

After a dip in the clear, shallow, warm water, I retired to the shade of the palapa. Our friendly waiter, Francisco, came over with an icy-cold limonada, a wonderfully sweet and tart summer drink with no alcohol.

Limonada photo from
It tastes like a margarita without tequila. After a few sips, I started to have chills; I pulled up my pareo, flinched, and almost jumped off the lounge, spilling some of my drink.

My skin was sizzling hot and hypersensitive. Every nerve ending seemed super-charged with electricity. I took off my sunglasses, and saw the red-hot skin of a cooked pierce of meat. It was awful. I hurt; I was shivering. My skin was hot. Every inch of me was toasted. I had been wearing a wide-brimmed hat, so my chin was burned, but the rest of my face was saved. We had taken our little Chihuahua, Coco-Nut for a walk on the beach and my back was crispy as well.
Sleeping that night was torture, every move, every wisp of a breeze, anything and everything caused searing pain. I thought I was going to die. I wished I had died.

The next morning I did some research and decided on the Honey Cure.
What a mess.

You are wondering right now how I solved my dilemma.

I filled the tub with tepid water, added some milk and lowered my sticky self in the tub. The honey became bath oil; it did soothe my skin and it helped relieve the itch and reduce some of the peeling. For the next few days, I mixed honey, milk, and finely ground oatmeal into my bath water and pretended to be Cleopatra. I also cut leaves of aloe vera plants and rubbed them all over me.

Twenty days later, my skin is finally healing, and I am still using milk and honey in my bath, and mixing honey and aloe as a lotion. I wear thin gloves as I type to keep the honey-aloe mixture from dripping on my keyboard.
A little sun block SPF-50 would have saved me from this misery. I cannot begin to explain why I did not use it that day. So I have shut the figurative “barn door”, and will slather on the sun block every day.

Thomas Elliot Fogel, You Will Always be in My Heart

Our darling grandson Thomas in September 2010 just before the chemo started

Thomas Elliot Fogel February 24, 2003- April 14, 2011
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a 1,000 winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sun on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled light
I am the soft star that shines at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there; I did not die.

I found this poem online back in February when we thought that Thomas would not make it back home from MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.
But this brave boy bounced back and within days of almost dying, he was playing with his light saber like a true Jedi Knight.
But even the bravest knights fall, and our precious Thomas left us yeaterday at 7:00 a.m. Mountain Time, peacefully, surrounded by his mother Karrolyne, his father Avram and his brother Patrick.

Early Daffodils of Spring

Spring has sprung. Spring is in the air.

Spring is the time of year I met and married my beloved…way back in 1982.

Spring means daffodils and tulips. Soft green buds and a haze on the air of all the greening going on.
We were back in California last week. And even though there was snow on the mountains around Los Angeles, it was perfect spring weather.

Spring rains and some unseasonably cold weather dropped snow on the mountains around Los Angeles

A little chilly in the mornings, birds singing, grass greening, buds on trees popping. Warm in the afternoons, and as I said it felt to me like the very air was a soft, baby green.

When we lived in San Jose we had thousands of daffodils in every size and color planted in the curb strip in front of our house. That just wasn’t enough daffodils for me, so I planted some in front of my neighbor’s house.
And in the beds along the front of the house, down the side of the driveway and along the pathway from the house to my little office cottage in the back, I had tulips, tulips and more tulips.

So when we were in California we made a trip to the Mecca of food shoppers, Trader Joe’s. And what did they have at the front door? Buckets and buckets of daffodils, 10 for $1.29.

What can be more Spring like that bright yellow daffodils?

Don’t ask me why I bought only 10, but that is how many I bought. And here they are. I staged this photo in front of my daughter-in-law’s wallpaper, and added her teapot. I wanted that greeting card feeling of Spring.

And they opened slowly but magnificently, and I smiled every time I saw them.