Having spent the best part of a decade taking the most exaggerated precautions against the sun (for tedious medical reasons that I can't be bothered to explain here) I decided, on arriving in Spain, to begin desensitizing myself. I started slow and careful: limited exposure, heavy sunblock. One of the first things I did was visit a pharmacy for advice. I was going to go for a 15, but the pharmacist went off into a long and (to me) largely unintelligible lecture in which the words "mas pallido" and "blanco" cropped up with alarming regularity. I left bearing a bottle of paediatric sun-cream and feeling a bit dispirited. A certain bearded individual thought it was all verrrry funny, especially when I decided to put some of the stuff on while we were taking the metro.
I've also been charging a little sun pendant that my Mum gave me as a solar talisman, in the hopes that I might start absorbing some of the energy rather than being fried like a big streaky rasher. It's been working pretty well, too; I've been able to move onto factor 15 and I don't always have to wear my shades. I even bought a few little crop-tops. I was responding quite nicely to the sunlight. It feels like it's shifting my consciousness somewhat-- I'm definately in a different mindstate when walking around on a sunny day. (Stop muttering about sunstroke. It's not sunstroke. It's a magickal altered state of consciousness. Shut up.)
'Course, I couldn't just carry on with the softly-softly approach, could I? Oh, no. I had to get all cocky. So, last Sunday I go to the park and sit there with my display of jewellery from 2 till half-eight. I mean, I did put sunblock on, I just didn't reapply it. Because I'm all hard and sunproof now, and I can sit in the Spanish sun for six and a half of the hottest hours of the day.
Do not mess with Ra, people. Ra is not to be mocked. Ra sees you mock him with your teeny crop-top and your one application of factor 15 sunspray, and Ra smites you. He smites you between the waistband of your skirt and the hem of your top with the dread Curse of the Stripey Back, and you rue your temerity. DO NOT MESS WITH RA!
I did sell a couple of daisy rings tho'. Daisy rings seem to be a bit of a winner.