Cool summer morning

After yanking yards of a strangling (yet with pretty little flowers) vine from around one stand of banana trees on a recent morning, I sat in a rocker on the terraza with a V-8, and looked over thataway. It was a yummy 65 degrees or so.

Híjole de la madre, I muttered to myself, I should share this with my amigos on the internet, so I polished off the V-8, and went upstairs to grab the Kodak.

It’s against that far red wall that I hope one day to construct a rock-and-concrete sweat room. I want the entrance to be low like an igloo, and I want two wooden “beds” to lie naked on, one for me and one for company.

And a fireplace and chimney. Maybe I’ll hang some feathers on the wall, plus some ceramic skulls because you need atmosphere. Candles for sure.

13 thoughts on “Cool summer morning”

  1. Awesome! How ’bout a brick baking oven for the Mrs? I’ve always wanted one but it’s too frikkin’ hot here to be doing much outside cooking!


  2. I’ve seen a few saunas that were built with a brick oven as a heat source. The oven has a pull out insulation cover that one keeps in place when cooking and then is pulled out to send the heat into the sauna later. Sometimes it is nice to keep the heat from the oven outside the house when baking.
    And those vines, a person can almost see them grow.


    1. Norm: I just came in from outside, tending to some gardening chores. Greenery growing is certainly no problem here. Abel the lawn-cutting man will be here shortly. Saturday at 10 is his appointed hour. Then I weed-eat.


    2. Vines, etc., anything that crawls and complicates my life, invariably is planted by my wife who then goes off and forgets about it, leaving its care in my hands. Lovely.


      1. I prefer a steam shower, same concept, but is not dry heat. I have one in my house. On those very cold days, aside from the spiritual cleansing and physical benefits, it just feels plain good.


  3. Always a privilege to see inside the Zapata compound. Thanks Felipe! And a vision of future additions to the grounds spurs the readers’ imaginations and memories!

    A ‘True’ story I have to relate about my first encounter with a sweat lodge. You do have a way of jogging this 1945 vintage reader’s memory bank! I will try to keep it short!

    Mountain View, Oklahoma. Five miles north of town at my Uncle Jack’s farm or ranch. He did both! Fourteen years old I was, and already hardened from working since I don’t remember when!

    An ‘Old Kiowa Indian” still occupied his land from the days of the Dawes Act, a mile west of the Parker place! I will not reveal his name as He has passed. Tradition!

    Uncle Jack sent me in his staked bed truck to pick the old man up and take him down to the Washita River and help him gather plants, leaves, branches and whatever the old man wanted. Two times a year this ritual took place! Willows for the floor and roof, cedars for incense, and a variety of nuts, pecans and walnuts.

    Unloading the goods at a high place on his land, shovels were already there, we dug a hole while he watched! Sheets of tin were scattered and these all of a sudden covered the framework made from the pliable willow limbs. A little dirt around the edges sealed the heat in. A mesquite fire had been burning for two days prior. The coals provided the heat, the water from the gourd made it almost unbearable!

    Still today I miss that old Kiowa and his sweat lodge. But I think he would be proud of my cousin’s buffalo herd roaming the land where we once sweated to the smell of pecan and got sick from the black walnut!


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