Parting gifts

The last time Ref was in his backyard, sitting in a chair in his robe, sick to death, he was directing Arnold and Nate through the welter in his storage shed. He pointed out the concrete pineapple.

He'd gotten it in Miami, he told Arnold, because he knew Robert and I liked pineapples as a symbol of hospitality. He warned Arnold against dropping it, nicking it or putting it among the hundred other things to cull. Ref wanted it to be a housewarming surprise for us.

So the day before Arnold left, he brought it over.

Right now it's at home on the porch -- and at more weight than I can carry, it's probably pretty safe there for a bit. (For all its lawlessness, Key West is pretty low in petty crime: I stupidly left a bag of drill bits in plain sight on the porch overnight, and nobody nicked it.)

But eventually, I think the pineapple from Ref and Arnold is going to have a fine home at the most private part of the house, at the far edge of the pool. As with everything else around the place, we'll think of both of them at every glimpse.