Which is why you haven't heard from me since I arrived in West Palm Beach two weeks ago. I brought my laptop, so in case I needed to do some work, I would have all my files - but it is iffy at best. The apartment doesn't have WiFi or cable (uh, the tv from 1978 went out last October, as did the repulsive microwave oven and a bunch of other things. Much is still on the porch,waiting for a big strong male that I don't have to pay to help me move them. This will not happen till 2015.
But I digress. The first few days, my daughter Hilary was with me and we had fun.
We went to South Beach, where people walk down the street in their bikinis after they have been on the beach, and where they serve drinks at happy hour that look like these:
a Margarita with beer added? Oy!Ridiculously big, insanely expensive, and we passed on these happy hour confections. It was so hot and humid that it was the most uncomfortable we had ever been, that Sunday in Miami Beach.
One day I dropped Hilary at the beach and swanned around Delray Beach, stopping at the Cornell Museum, where I once had a quilt in a traveling exhibit. And because of a detour, I discovered a mystery bookshop to die for, where I promptly purchased three I had been wanting to read. Joy!
But I must admit, I left one at the apartment, will start one on the plane, and save the third for my next plane trip in Sept. when I leave for Portland, OR (yay!! will get to spend time with Gerrie Congdon).
It was nonstop with Hilary and after she left, it was nonstop with my wonderful cousin Mimi, who lives in Boca. This was a working trip for me -- lining up contractors, looking for countertops that would not cost my first born son (no success there because I am particular and don't want confetti in my countertops), searching for a REAL wood floor (found in Delray beach after every other place I went to told me that NOBODY in Florida uses wood. Ha! That's all you have to say to me. They tried to sell me tile that supposedly looked like wood.
- but it was not my cuppa and it was still tile, which means that anything I dropped on it would shatter or crack the tile. I am a free spirit and pretty flexible, but I want what I want. I HATE tile anywhere but in the bathroom. Couldn't wait to get rid of the tile floor in my NJ kitchen and replace it with wood.
Countertops - I am still holding out hope for remnants of soapstone I can use, but it is a fortune and this is 3-4 month kitchen. But I'll find some granite that pleases me - although the one I fell in love with is not really granite, it is some sort of marble. High maintenance. Nope. But it is drop-dead gorgeous.
While I was here, my disgusting harvest gold fridge died. Oh, joy. I bought a new fridge in about 10 minutes but it came with the handles on the wrong side and Ill have to wait till January to have them properly reverse (as they had promised they would do before they delivered it. Ah, nothing is perfect.
I am really feeling sad about leaving this place, although I am happy to be getting home to my kids and other objects of my affection. Sigh...at least the weather in NJ is not humid at the moment. And I will be able to stitch the piece I brought down and couldn't really work on because the sewing machine here needs work. When I come down in Dec. I will bring my Singer 99, which I don't really use but which has a good straight stitch, if I remember correctly.
Plane boarding soon.