"If you'll be my bodyguard ..." Paul Simon's music fades in and out over the sound of kids splashing in the pool. The piped-in music (coming from rock-looking landscape speakers) is stereo surroundi
ng me as I float in the pool on my back looking up at the palm treas. Oops. I meant to type trees, but I'm in vacation-mind mode where thinking about anything more than lunch or when to apply my next spray of sunscreen is an effort. What day is this?I'm watching the clouds float by above me, sounds muffled because my ears are below the water. I wonder how long a human could stay like this.
The view from my beach chair is great too. A peaceful seascape full of every color in the aqua spectrum running into the peaches, apricots and golds. I think this is one of the things I miss most about those long winter months up north ... these Florida colors.
The view from my beach chair is great too. A peaceful seascape full of every color in the aqua spectrum running into the peaches, apricots and golds. I think this is one of the things I miss most about those long winter months up north ... these Florida colors.
We girls spend the day here, poolside. The boys are watching movies and playing Xbox in the condo. I'm engrossed in Kelly Corrigan's The Middle Place, partly because a new writer friend told me recently that my writing style
reminds me of Kelly's (wow--what a compliment!) but mostly because Kelly's story makes me feel like I'm listening to a friend.Later in the day, we go out to a local Italian place where the waitress scrunches her face at our high-maintenance Midwest requests for things "on the side" (like she's trying to make out another language) and pronounces Minestrone soup as "minn-a-strone." Note to self: look up the authentic pronunciation. Then we go shopping to the outlet mall where everyone comes away happy. Starbucks for dessert. Practically perfect day.
As Shangra-La-like as this sounds, I think the boys have had enough and are missing the familiarities of home. I'm missing T. It's wierd to be here without him, but the new grandbaby did arrive Monday (healthy and strong) and he was able to hold her last night which probably made staying home worth it. I miss Petey-the-poodle (and he misses me, according to Tom.) I hear Pete is spending his days moping in his cage. I also miss my bed. I don't miss the bills or dealing with the other bad news that rolls into our lives, but even here I can't escape it. T tells me about a niece that's in trouble. I resolve to resume my prayers--no excuse to have vacationed from that.
