I Spent Approximately Two Dollars And Fifty Cents

Not counting lunch and I tell you what- that was a hell of a lot of bang from my buck for shopping pleasure.
Here are Kathleen and me, outside of River Lily. It wasn't really cold but it was drizzling, thus the jackets.




Click on these pictures to see the glory of the window displays. Okay, yeah, we don't live in New York City or even Chicago so this is glory for us. Mermaids and great blue herons and peacocks.

Excuse me for a moment. I have to go put something in my ears because the frogs are calling so loudly in such piercing super-sonic voices that my brain might fall out of my head.

Okay. I'm back. Jesus. The wildlife is OUT, people. The frogs and deer and coons are as happy the temperatures have gone back up as we are. Believe me. Maybe more so. They do not have central heat.

So we stopped in Sopchoppy where I'd seen a watercolor picture last October that I've been kicking myself for not buying ever since then but it was sold. Of course. But I did find a beautiful old plate for fifty cents. Yes. Fifty cents. Now you can't buy a made-in-china stoneware plate at the Goodwill for fifty cents so good for me. Then we drove on to Apalachicola and we picked up Kathleen's bag and then we went to lunch where we both ate fried oysters with jalapeno sauce and they were GOOD, people. I bow down to the oyster and I bow down to the bay which nourishes and feeds those shellfish and I bow down to the oystermen who tong for them in wooden boats. I do.

I wish I'd taken some pictures of the shrimp boats at the dock because they are so beautiful with their wings which the nets are hung from. The seas were rough and so the boats were in the river, waiting for things to change. It was misty and gray and why I didn't pull my camera out and take a picture is beyond me. Let me tell you something- the people who go out on shrimp boats are wilder than cowboys, braver than astronauts. They go far, far out to sea and they let down their nets and they bring in the beautiful pink shrimp and throw the other sea creatures back out to sea and ice the shrimp down and if the shrimp are running, they keep working. The boat tosses and turns and the winds may be so icy that their hands freeze in their gloves and their feet turn to ice in their rubber boots, but if the shrimp are there, they gotta get 'em. And in the summer, it's probably even worse. Whatever you pay for wild, not farmed, shrimp- it's worth it. I grew up in a fishing village and I watched those men build their boats under the rubber trees and squat on their haunches to take a break, smoking and talking and making plans and shooting the shit. I saw them go out every night and come home in the morning, exhausted, to sleep a few hours and then get up to mend their nets, weaving the string like the men probably did when Jesus took his stroll on the water.

Apalachicola is a strange mixture of that sort of ancient craft and tourist destination. Kathleen and I hit the sale racks at one store and looked at beautiful clothes which, even half price, cost as much as some people's utility bill for the month. For one shirt. One jacket. One pair of pants.

We spent at least an hour in River Lily. We smelled so many perfumes we couldn't smell any more. We both ended up buying these tiny bags of aromatic herbs which are supposed to clear your sinuses just by smelling them. It worked for me. That was another dollar ninety-five. Oh yeah, we're the big-ass spenders, Kathleen and I. Actually, we bought them so we can replicate and sell them and also because by that time, our sinuses really did need clearing out.

We had coffee in a place where I spent an entire forty-five minutes pretending I was not looking across the room and directly into the face of a woman I've known for a long time but whom I do not like. I just did not want to talk to her. Not one bit. I could tell she kept trying to catch my eye but I was having none of it. That's how anti-social I am. And it worked.
Thank God because I was just not in the mood.

And then we drove home and now it's pouring rain and these frogs- oh my Lord, these frogs. They are shrill and insane with joy. They're probably out there fucking like rabbits. Do they not know that it's still January? I guess not. Well, have at it frogs. Enjoy your rain and your warmer temperatures. Sing and trill and dance and spawn. Do it for the joy. You do not need to buy perfume or beautiful earrings to attract your mate. You do not need peacock lamps or mermaid lamps. You do not need silk jackets or velvet skirts. All you need is some warmer weather, a good down-pour and the dark night sky.

And me? Well, all of that makes me pretty happy too. And spending the day with a friend and talking, talking, talking, and looking at all the beautiful things in the world I do not need.

And Mr. Moon is relieved, although he does not admit it. And I am content and cozy, home again and Owen will come tomorrow at eight-thirty and really, what more do I need in this world?

Not one damn thing. Although a pretty plate and a bag of aromatic herbs are nice things to have. And a picture of a magical fairy princess does not hurt either.

It was a lovely day and I'm thinking about the river and the sea and how wind-tossed they were which makes me feel all the more cozy, right here in Lloyd where I live.