Mr. Moon thanked me for the booty call. If you are my child and you are reading this...JUST KIDDING!
(Again I say, Haha!)
I love the drive down to the coast through all the forests and over the pretty little rivers and through all the tiny towns where they sell boiled peanuts and Tupelo honey and there are seafood retailers and seafood restaurants and you can stop at what used to be the Kangaroo convenience store where they have the Xlerator hand dryer that even after YEARS of stopping to use, still makes me laugh to see what it does to the skin of my hands and arms when I turn it on. My very flesh ripples like a river over my bones under the stormiest wind and it is horrifying and hilarious at the same time. Also, they have decent coffee there, even one that claims to be "organic" although I just really don't trust that shit.
They also have a "whipped topping" dispenser. Which I don't use but I sort of really want to. You know?
The place that my sister-in-law reserved for this trip is one of four units in a place we've stayed in before but never in this particular unit. It was amazing. And beautiful. They're all in a restored and remodeled building on the waterfront in Apalachicola and you can go here to read about it.
Every unit I've stayed in has been beautiful but this one took the damn cake. Here's a picture of part of the living room area.
I mean, books that if you were on a deserted island you would want to have with you.
Our bedroom was far bigger than the one we have here at home. The bed was a huge four-poster thing and although not as comfortable as our bed, was dressed in luscious linens and everywhere I looked, things pleased me. Antiques and beautiful wood and old brick and balconies. And terrariums! And a complete kitchen. Where I did nothing but make coffee.
Here's a lamp that I would love to own.
Frog and mouse, peddling away. I think that's a mouse. It could be a cat, I suppose. But oh, how darling.
Right downstairs from the Consulate is a store called the Grady Market. They sell a ton of rich-people stuff that I would never consider buying and also, a ton of rich people clothing and leather goods that I'd pretty much give my right leg for. Okay. Not really. But maybe a toe. Or at least a fingernail.
The brand they carry that I love the most is Johnny Was. Do you know Johnny Was? I hate his ass.
Here's a text conversation I had with Jessie while I was there.
Oh. That blue shirt. Oh, the jackets Johnny has made. The dresses.
He can bite my ass.
Or send me free clothes. Either one would be fine.
I do like my hideous pants. They have more pockets and zippers and buttons and buckles than the law allows. They're ridiculous. And very comfortable.
So yeah, it was 24 hours of the life of Riley and I haven't even mentioned all the delicious foods and the vodka tonics and the nice walk Mr. Moon and I had today. We went by our property and saw some of our neighbors who reported that a lot of people in that block have died recently. The lady part of the couple told me, "Y'all need to move down and bring us some new blood!" which made me both very sad and want to laugh. They were on their way back home from the Chinese Restaurant in their golf cart vehicle.
This, my friends, is my future.
Here's a bit of rustic scenery from the riverfront in Apalachicola.
Those burlap sacks are what oysters are sold in, each one tagged as to the location where the oysters were harvested. The picture of the shrimp boat I posted this morning caught my attention as the guys on the boat were shoveling out their cooler of shrimp. Apalach is a strange place. It has become such a tourist destination and yet, at the same time, it is still a working fishing village. There are ten foot tall piles of oyster shells and men wearing white rubber boots not a hundred yards from where they sell Johnny Was shirts for prices that an oysterman couldn't afford to buy his wife in ten years of marriage. There appears to be a large population of gay men who grew up there, moved away, and came back. There are hundreds of retirees who walk their dogs (they all have dogs) and stop at Tamara's Cafe for coffee and gossip and guava pastries. There's a brewery there now.
The place that pleases me the most is the bookstore which I have talked about so many times before. I walked in this morning and said to the woman who owns it, "Hello Bookstore Lady!"
We talked about the best books we've read recently, discussed the Robert Galbraith (JK Rowling) Cormoran Strike novels (we both love them and no, that girl better NOT marry her fiance) and although I didn't buy anything today, it made me feel better, just having been there.
I packed up this afternoon and drove on home. I stopped at Carabelle Beach park where they still have picnic tables which look like this.
So very sixties.
And so very artistic and Howard Johnson colored.
Oh, Florida. How I do love thee.
And now I'm home and the chickens seem fine and Maurice is glad I'm home and tomorrow I'll help Lily with a baby shower she's helping to put together for a friend of hers and on Sunday, I hope to weed those damn, beautiful tomatoes.
Well, that's what I've been doing.