I'm back, I think

I've been by myself in Key West for the last few weeks -- oh, did I need it -- and:

-- Re- charged my solar batteries, and bathed their plates in a perfect salt/humidity solution. It was t-shirt soaking hot by 8 a.m., but oh, the pool.

-- Tended the gardens daily (amazing what they do in a few months), helped our landscaper put some new bougainvilleas in the back and adjusted to the loss of the big palm that used to cover our parking spot and shade the parking-space garden. February's frond thief had done such damage to it that Arthur cut the whole thing down, and our plants roasted. Turns out the guy is now in jail on a coke bust, which ought to keep him occupied for a few years.

-- Read just a shade less than one book a day to clear my head (or stuff it), from a huge helping of John Sandford's "Prey" series to the final installment of Peter Matthiessen's "Mr. Ryan" stories of southwest Florida, with a good bit of Key West history larded in. I love our library, and its librarians. And if you ever want to taste Key West without having to visit, or if you just want to read something beautiful, read the best novel I've come across in years, Thomas Sanchez's "Mile Zero."

-- Reconnected with the street: the dog-walkers (though Vicar Don was away in Alaska), the revelers, the bad parkers, Songman gliding down Olivia on his bike (with me shouting "Sing it!" every time he goes), the confused, Zachary on his 7:30 scooter, the lost (yes, Hemingway's house is just there,) and the weird.

-- Used the meat counters at Fausto's and Albertson's (Hey, Jimmy!, in each case) to bring home a single fresh chop or chicken breast or chunk of fish for a delicious late grill.

-- Was careful to entertain strangers, because, as Hebrews tells us, "some have entertained angels unawares." In my case, it was four guys from Orlando, a nice couple from Maryland, two fellas from the U.K., a nice couple from Germany. . . .

Tomorrow I fly north, and I'll post again when I catch my breath.