Sunday, October 24, 2010
I May Just Move In (Oh Boy, Do I Wish)
Every thing about this place is so damn charming that I can hardly stand it. You just don't know where to look, much less sit.
The fellows who own the house live next door in the "big house" and I have to say they have the best taste ever. Or at least, their taste pleases the shit out of me, so I think it's great. They are geniuses at finding and using furniture and fixtures from the fifties and sixties and honey, that was some fine style-time. For all I know, the rattan couch in the living room used to belong to my grandmother. Or one of her friends.
My grandparents, when they retired here from Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, had a small group of people they'd known back on the mountain who also lived here, some full-time, some part. I remember those sweet old ladies with their soft, wrinkled skin, their jersey dresses, their white hair put up with beaded hair nets, their rhinestone jewelry, their little sweater clips, their huge ugly glasses and the big eyes that twinkled behind them. They moved to Florida and bought rattan furniture and collected shells and got together to play canasta and had a garden club and went out to eat on Sundays after church. I don't think any of them were religious but they all went to the Roseland Gardens Community Church, more for community than god. I don't ever once remember that preacher talking about heaven or hell. I remember looking out the windows at the pine trees and the rose garden, though. I remember that.
And here I am now with soft wrinkly skin myself and my hair is going white and I do have a few rhinestones and I'd like to think my eyes twinkle.
I do not play canasta. I sort of wish I did.
So all of this place, this little house, reminds me of those ladies and my childhood. The river is home and so are the docks and the palms and the cedar trees and the white sand road, and the furniture here and the pink sink in the bathroom and turquoise sink outside and the terrazzo floors make me feel at home and it is so fine.
We slept very late and had coffee in one spot and another. Like I said, there are just too damn many to choose from. Mr. Moon has already seen a little gator and caught one mullet and I've made our breakfast which was also our lunch, so yes, I guess it was brunch although there was no cantaloupe involved. Bacon was, though, as well as pineapple and bananas. And guava jelly.
Oh my yes.
Everywhere my eye lights is perfect.
Here's the view from the sink.
Here's the view of a large man washing the dishes at the sink.
Now. Have you ever seen anything prettier in your life?
I didn't think so.
All right. That's all for now. It's Sunday morning and I don't have one wisp of blues about me. But just to make sure, we're going for a walk.
As soon as my houseboy finishes his chores.