Friday, September 30, 2011

Earth Ball Dreaming

That's Roger's home my wife said as we drove by. Roger is currently working on some projects with a friend and a nice chap he seems to be too.

He's done some rather decent carpentry work in our friend's very normal house on land, though his home is somewhat different, anchored in Bow Channel.

There is a website as you might imagine, in which the artful Roger explains how to build your own home for use on water or land.

It is rather tempting some days, isn't it, to tune in and drop out. Better that than sitting around waiting for Greece to demolish civilization as we know it.

I couldn't help but notice the comparisons between the very clever and useful Earth Ball and the slightly ridiculous floating "iceberg" used for entertainment at the campground.

I'm not sure I'd be ready to circumnavigate in a ball like this but I can only imagine what a Bahamas cruise might be like floating down the Exumas in a simple, light, inexpensive craft like this. Oh dear, dreams are dangerous.

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Big Pine Sky

Walking Cheyenne, she with head down sniffing, me with head up looking, I saw an astonishing sky overhead.

I can see rainy season ending soon and all these clouds will soon be swept away by the cold dry air of winter.

Cold is a relative term around here but I have seen temperatures hovering, briefly around 40 degrees in deepest winter.

Summer heat and humidity pile up the clouds, thunder is a constant companion, rain is localized.

I wondered if we might not get brained on but the threat passed.

I don't think Cheyenne even notices thunder very much at all.

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Washington And William

A trailer nearly submerged by bougainvillea; is that the Key West take on entropy?

Cheyenne causes a certain wariness in wild animals, but it generally doesn't take them long to figure out she likes her prey dead, and preferably processed.

I saw this cactus on the terrace at the back of El Patio Motel and suddenly I conceived a desire to stay there. Which is silly because I live 28 miles away.

Sign painting in Key West and Monroe County is an art form unto itself. Street names are misspelled - Galvaston Poincianna and Carsten or Carstens are my current favorites. However the use of upside letter stencils drives me crazy.

I must be way too compulsive because I'm sure no one notices or cares like I do. A backwards N? No problem! Sometimes I am a pill. How does my wife put up with me?

The front of El Patio was looking a bit waterlogged as was much of the city the other day.

Woolwich Arsenal Football Club. I haven't seen that name in a while. They called them Arsenal because the original team was drawn, a century ago from workers at the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich (pronounced: wool-itch, appropriately enough). What it's doing in Key West one dreads to imagine.

Above we see a silent cyclist getting in the way. Below we see the object of picture, one more welcoming pineapple.

Here's a sign we like to believe.

These days 'pending' seems more hopeful than promising what with no credit, no banks, no loans and nothing much in the pipeline. And then they tell us to act surprised when we are informed we are back in a recession. No duh.

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Impromptu Boating

Cheyenne got to stay over at the boys' palazzo with the Vizlas, dogs that have cushions named after them, unlike my animal who has nothing named after her, not even a blog.

We adults piled picnic supplies into the cramped confines of the 21 footer and took off, with not a care in the world.

It was crisp and bright out on the water with a light southwest breeze blowing the humidity away. It was lovely.

Wayne was busy working on his tan at thirty miles per hour,

... while I was nattily attired as usual for an afternoon out on the water. I really need to pull out the brand new Crocs Amanda kindly sent me from the Virgin Islands. I am hoarding them.

I missed Cheyenne who was definitely not out with us in her accustomed place:

Captain Crabmore (aka Chuck) hardly needed the mapping GPS but he is nothing if not cautious. Water is quite thin in these parts.

Out we went down Sugarloaf Creek, previously explored in this blog a couple of days ago.

And we found the waters of the Straits of Florida were just rather too rough for swimming. It wasn't tempestuous or anything dramatic, but the fresh southwest breeze that was blowing away humidity and cobwebs was also whipping up uncomfortable waves in the open water, so we retreated.

It was tough but we coped in the protected waters behind the mangrove islands. Wayne started getting plaintive about needing food so we interrupted the swimming and bullshitting session and my wife retrieved her hard fought fried chicken.

It was actually Dion's fried chicken from Summerland Key but we forgot to stop to buy it on our drive over from our house to the boys's place so she had to turn around and go back the ten miles to pick it up, so it really was hard fought. And it tasted good according to Captain Crabmore:

He snuck my camera and took a picture of me having an unaccustomed good moment in the Florida Keys. It's not always like this, let me assure you.

But often it is.

Thunder rounded out the afternoon but then rain stayed away. Our abbreviated program was a good time, an excellent time for the boys who had never previously bothered to just stop and swim and ignore the call of a planned destination. Which times are best I find, the impromptu ones, though Cheyenne does like to share them.

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Change Can Be Good

Carolyn Fuller's house on Angela Street at the cemetery has undergone a minor cosmetic change for a major improvement in appearance.

The late artist was a curmudgeon of the highest order and
lived a reclusive life that anyone with my disposition would seek to emulate, but was cursed with an attractive home in a popular area and had to suffer the attentions of far too many tourists passing by. Yet she never did install a fence around her well known home preferring instead the bottle wall that subsequently suffered so much damage she changed it into a mirrored wall, which remains.

A new fence was installed after her death to gain some privacy though in my world a fence six feet tall would be preferable. It was a bright yellow garish thing which has been stained in some way and from being an eyesore it is now a rather nice addition to the home. How odd it is that Fuller's home has captured so much of the public imagination and interest in this town. I hope she is enjoying true retirement in whatever other world there may or may not be.

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