Wednesday, January 21, 2009
January 20, Ft Myers.
On the way back we drove to Miami Beach to see the Art Deco district, an old yearning of mine since studying American architecture in college, and then stopped to see our friend Eugene before heading home.
Eugene, from Russia, trained at a circus school and specialized as an animal tamer. Now retired from the circus he opened a circus arts school and seems to be doing well, even though business is slow these days. He is the center's owner, manager and sole teacher. A lot of my students' parents have lost their job, he said. I always work, I work every day, this is my business.
The last time we saw him Dylan was a newborn, and Nicolas not even envisioned. Time flies, he said, look at them.
Look at you, Eugene, just two years into retirement, risking, trusting, thriving in a wrecked economy.
January 20, Ft. Myers.
Who needs to wander around Key West when they can drive the 100 miles from Miami only to drive straight back and end up in a motel on Route One across from the new CVS Pharmacy and have time to see the whole inauguration on TV the next morning because half the trip back home is already done?
I'd been to Key West twenty years ago and loved it. We'd planned an escapade so my mother and Fridman could see the town across from La Habana. Instead we spent the day driving, and acquiring a few more gray hairs.
My purse was there at the gas station on Key Largo where I'd left it four hours before, on the convenient little table in the restrooms, and nothing was missing - but my mind.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
January 17, Ft. Myers.
There is magical place not far from where we live.
It's big and green and wild, it's smack in the middle of town, across the street from all the warehouse stores, it's a godsend, it's the Calusa Nature Center and Planetarium.
For the price of a meal you get a yearly family pass and walk several miles of trails winding around a lush wonderland of native Florida plants, you can learn about Florida flora and fauna in the natural history museum, you can see a rescued bobcat, a bald eagle and other native Floridians, you can brush up your stars at the planetarium, and even pet a snake or two if you're itching to.
I have to think of a reason not to go back every day (laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house are the most unfortunate competitors.)