My phone rang. "Hey Fat Head! How ya doin'?" the rasping New Jersey accent of jack the ripper cut through the pleasant conversation we were having during our picnic lunch on my porch. Chuck was more polite than me. "Hi Jack!" he said cheerily to the speaker telephone.
Well, there's a coincidence thought I, as Jack riepe and Chuck made the sort of polite small talk that chokes me up. It would have been good to have had riepe there in person but Chuck and I had planned to gorge ourselves stupid on the best bread Key West has to offer and riepe would have been a handful to cope with in such circumstances.
My loyal dog nudged my leg for a while and then passed out, full herself of treats and walks and heat exhaustion. We made a mess of the Colez Peace bread which Chuck brought from the restaurant store on Eaton Street http://colespeace.com/ . Country Italian I think it was and it went down just fine with salami and some assorted cheeses from Winn Dixie, Cheddar, Parmesan and Brie and a jar of Boetje's mustard.
One of the great things about living in the Keys is that even though one is a bit isolated from the full range of American Middle Class Mall shopping, no bad thing for a recluse like me, one can still get hold of the foods that have revolutionized American tastes since Julia Child started her campaign decades ago. I did notice that a lot of the more off the wall organics and frou frou middle class products (South Beach granola, Newman's Own cereal for instance) are no longer stocked now that Big Pine is inhabited by troglodytes and assorted primitives...It's nice the snowbirds have gone home for the summer but I miss their finicky shopping habits!
Chuck, being an engineer wanted to see why my refurbished outboard isn't making full power so we sat in the skiff for a while and pondered. Brian the mechanic should be here before the weekend I hope, for a definitive diagnosis.
The 1985 Harley is still running just so, and refreshed by a 27 mile ride out into the boonies Chuck was ready to go home.
So he did just that. A perfect afternoon in the fabulous Florida Keys.
Well, there's a coincidence thought I, as Jack riepe and Chuck made the sort of polite small talk that chokes me up. It would have been good to have had riepe there in person but Chuck and I had planned to gorge ourselves stupid on the best bread Key West has to offer and riepe would have been a handful to cope with in such circumstances.
My loyal dog nudged my leg for a while and then passed out, full herself of treats and walks and heat exhaustion. We made a mess of the Colez Peace bread which Chuck brought from the restaurant store on Eaton Street http://colespeace.com/ . Country Italian I think it was and it went down just fine with salami and some assorted cheeses from Winn Dixie, Cheddar, Parmesan and Brie and a jar of Boetje's mustard.One of the great things about living in the Keys is that even though one is a bit isolated from the full range of American Middle Class Mall shopping, no bad thing for a recluse like me, one can still get hold of the foods that have revolutionized American tastes since Julia Child started her campaign decades ago. I did notice that a lot of the more off the wall organics and frou frou middle class products (South Beach granola, Newman's Own cereal for instance) are no longer stocked now that Big Pine is inhabited by troglodytes and assorted primitives...It's nice the snowbirds have gone home for the summer but I miss their finicky shopping habits!
Chuck, being an engineer wanted to see why my refurbished outboard isn't making full power so we sat in the skiff for a while and pondered. Brian the mechanic should be here before the weekend I hope, for a definitive diagnosis.
The 1985 Harley is still running just so, and refreshed by a 27 mile ride out into the boonies Chuck was ready to go home.So he did just that. A perfect afternoon in the fabulous Florida Keys.
1 comment:
Bald spot.
Ugh.
Losing hair on Fleming,
Chuck.
PS - yes, a good time was had by all and we didn't do much. Such is middle-aged life on the edge of the tropics.
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