Trip Report

So Mr. Moon and I made our way down to Apalachicola and we stopped in Sopchoppy to browse in a few shops. In one he found and purchased an entire baby camo outfit for Owen. Yes. He did. A camo onesie, a camo hat, and camo booties.

At another store down the road we found a lamp that I really had to have. Okay. Something is wrong with my camera or else I have it set on some weird setting that I need to figure out. But here's the lamp:


Can you imagine I could have left that behind? I don't think so.

We stopped in Carabelle for some beer and as we were leaving the store, we saw this:


I would apologize for my fellow-north Floridians but what would be the point? We may not be able to spell but goddammit, we love our country! Right?

The Gibson was busy with a bunch of folks taking part in a murder mystery weekend. I'm not exactly sure how that operates but people were talking about clues all weekend and there were characters walking around in costume. Everyone seemed to be having a great deal of fun. Our room was on the third floor, a small room, but a cozy one. The thing I love about going away for the weekend is that naps can be taken without guilt. I love to lie there on the bed under the covers and just let sleep overcome me and drift away and then come back to life and listen to Mr. Moon snoring gently and revel in the luxury of being completely comfortable and with nothing which has to be done, no place to be but where I am, the world busy around me, and not having to feel part of it, just me and my husband all alone in the center of this busy-ness, a quiet, still spot that we are sharing. Does that make sense? Oh. It does to me.

On Saturday we shopped around. Here's a picture of me with my head on the bosom of a pirate lady. I think we both look rather pleased:


Who doesn't love a nice bosom, even if it is made of fiberglass?

We made sunset rum and cokes and walked down to the river. It was so beautiful, the sky streaked with gold and pink and the shrimp boats lined up at the dock. It was too dark and I only had the camera in the phone, but here's sort of what it looked like:


Maybe especially after a rum and coke.

And in the theme of drinking, here's my handsome husband of twenty-five years, having a martini on the porch of the Gibson:


We ate oysters and shrimp and crab and gumbo and way too much chocolate. Yes, it is possible to eat too much chocolate. My tummy paid me back, too. And reminded me of why I need to start eating in a more sensible way but that's a topic for another blog and the subject of another day.

This weekend was about the celebration. It was about being in a town we've loved for almost as long as we've loved each other. We drove around town, remembering the days when we thought we'd buy a house down there, disagreeing on which house was which, and then agreeing, and then disagreeing but overall agreeing that Apalachicola is a beautiful place and we have the perfect lot and that yes, someday it would be so nice to live there on it, blocks from the store, the library, the restaurants, and right on the water. But I have decided that no matter what, I have to have at least a few hens. If I keep only hens and keep them hidden, I believe I can get away with it. I shall have swamp hens and grow my tomatoes in pots.
Well. It's a dream. Perhaps it will come true.
And that was another lovely thing about the weekend- celebrating what has been in the last twenty-five years and looking forward to what comes next.

And so that was our trip, in a rush and a whirl, and now I HAVE to get to town to see my boy. I know he misses me and Lily reports that he is giving full-blown smiles and I WANT MINE!

One of my chickens just laid an egg and Sam, as he always does when a hen sings her chicken-laying song, hurried into the coop to see what was up, just like a new father being called to the delivery room. I can see him metaphorically passing out cigars five times a day, that pretty rooster of mine.

And so I am home and I am glad to be. Perhaps someday we will live on the water with a dock of our own on the beautiful Apalachicola Bay with palm trees and an enormous sky above us, the always-changing water beside us. But for now, this place is where I want and need to be. Close to my children, my grandchildren, with my chickens right out back, my garden where I can easily get to to gather greens. It's gray today and a little damp and chilly, but my heart is warm. And the palm trees I have planted in this yard are growing every year and the oak trees shelter us beneath their massive branches and our own front porch looks out onto the street which leads to all roads, eventually, and then back again to home.