How I Love Florida
February 18th, 2013
I always have loved Florida. Not THAT Florida, but the inner , exotic one I’ve discovered over many years. Now, we are back home in North Carolina, where this morning it is an astonishing 14 degrees. Ugly!! But I’ve escape dfor twelve days of blissful sun, turquoise water, palms, and fascinating places–all without a drop of rain. Actually, we made two trips, one to Miami just for two days, and then a long drive south to Fernandina Beach, Tallahassee, Lakeland, Tampa, then a six-day stay on Sanibel Island. Our last night was spent on Jekyll Island, Georgia, right near where I spent many summer vacations as a child on St. Simon’s and Sea Island. One thing I’m loving about living on the East Coast is the possibility of interesting short trips. And we seem to have rediscovered road trips–great music via the iPhone connection, a wonderful little picnic, or the use of Yelp to discover an interesting spot to eat not far off the freeway. My only regret is that the car does not have built-in desk and bookshelf. Ed likes to drive so I’m in the other seat, usually with a project to work on. I do have a very large clipboard and I arrange various folders and books in the middle of the back seat so I can reach them. Ever listened to 92 Beatles songs in a row? I’m also the navigator and often want to throw the iPad map, with its insect-view of the terrain, out the window. Where is that folded, torn, REAL map of Florida!
I adore Miami. We just popped down for a quick trip because we had to use or lose two airline tickets. We stayed at deco, reasonable Park Central, where I’ve stayed before. Long walk on the beach–and this is a fantastic people-watching beach–and a stroll around South Beach, which is by turns elegant and funky in the extreme. The first night we had just-okay Cuban food in the neighborhood, then the next night we searched out Sardinia, a short taxi ride away. Ah! Many Italians visit Miami and most of them seemed to have discovered this restaurant. Great wine list, really good vibe, and we got to speak Italian! A find! Another find: TAJ. Just possibly the most beautiful, luxurious romantic clothes I’ve ever seen. The style is Italian-silk-meets-Morocco-meets-Greece and the beaded, jeweled handwork is simply exquisite. 760 Ocean Dr. #4. The Wolfsonian Museum was the best find of all. www.wolfsonian.org There is an exhibit of the postcards of the Wiener Werkstätte era that stunned us with its artistic depth and playfulness. One forgets that side of the Germanic cultures. We’d seen a huge exhibit of Wiener Werkstätte in Vienna last summer and had our eyes opened to the scope of those artists, and to the concept: gesamtkunstwerk, which the world-wide springing up of the arts and crafts movements emphasized. I love this everything-can-be-art concept and had not been aware, prior to Vienna, that it was what spread around the world from these artists all at once. When I get some time (?), I want to read a ton about this. Fascinating what a huge part postcards played in that WW artistic circle. Klimt sent 3-4 a day. Email, I guess. I loved the book selection in the Wolfsonian, and their café with the French 19th century iron mezzanine. Came out with, among others, André Gide’s autobiography, which is just stunning. Very Nabokovian, Proustian… Even a short trip can send you off in new directions, set you dreaming, and leave you hungry for more.
After a week back home, we packed the car like Hannibal-over-the-Alps and headed South.
Seven hours of driving is one hour beyond my tolerance point, but we arrived at The Elizabeth Pointe Inn, smack on the beach in Fernandina. It’s a wonderful shingle hotel, like something out of a novel set on Nantucket. Bookcase near the fireplace, wonderful breakfast, friendly staff–this is a great choice. It’s rated one of the tip-top American inns in every poll known. Although it was lovely, the exalted ratings surprised me because the rooms and baths–or at least the one we had, were somewhat dated. (There’s a small new wing that I did not see.) Porches with rockers had nice blankets clipped to the back and it was warm enough to sit in the sun, and to take a long walk on the splendid beach. We had dinner at Le Clos. Our third time there and it is a must in Fernandina–French bistro in a cracker cottage. Fresh and local menu and friendly, friendly. I must have been to Fernandina two hundred times when I was growing up. It’s changed, of course, but the town is so nostalgic and the Victorian residential area seems like Key West without the self-consciousness.
Many of the large, graceful old homes are now appealing B & Bs. The town is on the harbor side, not the ocean. I bought orange espadrilles, and at a cool coffee shop we picked up sandwiches to take on the road to Tallahassee.
Tallahassee must be one of the world’s most hospitable spots. I was guest speaker for The Goodwood Museum, an ante-bellum plantation house lovingly restored and open to the public. It’s surrounded by massive, moss-draped oaks. After a tour, the doors opened and the house was filled with guests and prosecco, and then we proceeded to an attractive modern barn-like hall for a fantastic dinner prepared from, yes–The Tuscan Sun Cookbook. It’s always interesting to taste others’ versions of the recipes. I spoke briefly, met lots of great people, and signed books. Through the evening, Rose Rodriguez took care that all went smoothly. We repaired to the up-to-the-minute Duval Hotel where the roof terrace was hopping. The main talk was the next morning and to my surprise, I found several people from Fitzgerald, Georgia, my home town! Also a Randolph-Macon Woman’s College classmate, who had not changed one iota. After I spoke, Louise Divine (@LouiseDevine on Twitter) and I had a farm-to-table discussion with the audience. She’s a farmer and I could have chatted all day. At lunch with the museum board, I sat next to Diane Roberts. She’s like Molly Ivins reincarnated but is a knowledgable Floridian with a raucous sense of humor. Her wonderful book, Dream State, kept us entertained on the road. I read to Ed as he drove through the orange groves and beautiful landscapes of central Florida. If you have any interest in or love for Florida, this is truly a must read. Rose sent us off with The Legacy of a Red Hills Hunting Plantation, a book from Tall Timbers Research Station & Land Conservancy, where she works, and with two roses from the Goodwood collection. I chose Clytemnestra, partly for the name, and Fédéric Mistral. Both are large growers and very fragrant. They became backseat drivers for the rest of the trip, only spilling over once. An article by Audrey Post appeared in Tallahasseemagazine.com
Next brief stop to visit my sister and nephews in beautiful Lakeland, city of not just one, but many lakes. It’s a great walking town! Circling the lakes you see tropical birds everywhere. Progressive, small Florida Southern College was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s worth a detour to see this amazing group of buildings on Lake Hollingsworth. If you are familiar with his architecture, the campus will surprise you with it’s Mediterranean, moorish touches, covered walkways, secret niches. A jewel. And the tradition continues: noted architect Robert A.M. Stern recently designed dorms on the campus. Nearby, for University of South Florida Poly, Santiago Calatrava is working on a project. Lakeland is special in several ways. Also, a noted southern architect (whose name I will add) designed the Lakeland Terrace Hotel on Lake Mirror in 1924–definitely the place to stay and dine.
Our great friend, architect Alberto Alfonso from Tampa, took us to see the stupendous resort he designed near Lakeland. www.streamsongresort.com We got to don hard hats and tour the construction site. The two golf courses and the clubhouse (with twelve rooms) already are open, and the resort is scheduled to open this fall. Sited on an abandoned phosphate mine, it’s a grand example of land reclamation. Armadillos, deer, and all kinds of exotic birds regard you as an intruder on their space. All the pits are now waterways and the mounds, now planted with grasses, seem like ancient dunes.
The quality of the work is simply extraordinary; see how beautifully this rain-chain is made.
An alligator that appeared to be smiling rested by the water and paid us no mind. What a peaceful place, and sure to draw golfers from around the world. Alberto’s work here embodies the concept gesamtkunstwerk I mentioned above–he designed the interiors as well as the buildings, down to the knobs and bed pillows. His artwork is on the walls. Later, when it opens, I’ll write more about the concepts he used in design. The use of stone, marble, and wood textures seems just unique to me in resort architecture. I can’t wait to check in. We always have a great time in Tampa with the Alfonso clan. A lot of the fun takes place around his work table. We drink espresso, plan grand schemes, and catch up on projects we’re all involved in. Much centers around Ed and Alberto’s poem/painting projects, but we also look at art books, share sources, and dream of Italy! That Alberto brings his passion for all the arts to his work is part of what makes him a great architect.
If in the Tampa area, try to see the space he designed for Dale Chihuly in St. Pete, and the New Covenant Church in Tampa, a structure that exemplifies simplicity is liberating. One place we gathered for lunch was The Oxford Exchange. The bookstore is an aesthetic experience, the café inventive and appealing. In the gift shop, there’s not a trite item. Someone with soul and incredible taste designed this space.
Legend is that Ponce de Leon breathed his last on Sanibel Island, having given up on that fountain of youth thing. Or maybe he decided this was as far as he needed to go on his quest. A barrier island washed by the Gulf, Sanibel feels tropical and freeing. Hop on a bike and pedal out to the lighthouse, take long, long beach walks and pick up shells, millions of shells, and cook crab, pompano, snapper, flounder, shrimp. That’s what we did for six glorious days. We rented a condo with this view outside our windows.
We met close friends, Rena and Steve, there for a reunion. Steve just finished a manuscript on the pleasures of reading Wallace Stevens. Rena (my college roommate) is a fine, fine watercolor painter. (See www.renawilliams@blogspot.com) Ed is midway in a poetry/painting project. And I’m completing a memoir. So there was much to discuss while we cooked or lounged about. We rented an apartment via VRBO and spent some time talking about how it could be decorated but wasn’t. The location made up for the bad kitchen (almost). We drove over to Captiva, which looked even more enchanting than Sanibel. The late sun draws everyone on the island out to the beach. Most are holding a glass of wine. Their faces are burnished with the rosy gold light of the sun slipping under the horizon. Pelicans roost in the palms, birds on stalky legs pick their ways along the shoreline. A crow perched in a tree above my beach chair kept saying, I swear, “Howard. Howard.” The days passed too quickly. Rena patiently taught me some principles of watercolor. She is such a committed and superbly talented artist. I have many of her watercolors at my house and could happily fill the walls with them. This one below is not perfectly typical of her work but is one I love, with its mysterious “writing.”
She showed me how to mix and make colors and we looked at work by some of her favorite painters. My first efforts made me so happy. As someone locked into writing, it’s thrilling to visit other media, such as architecture and painting. Please don’t laugh at my primo effort!
We departed by ten, and after seven hours, we reached Jekyll Island–just in time to marvel at the sunset light on the gigantic trees.
This is a big return for me. I spent many vacations on The Golden Isles. For the early part of the century, Jekyll was home to many powerful northern families, who had a hunting and vacation club there, built enormous “cottages,” and sailed down on their yachts. Please Google the information on the history, if you’re interested. But Jekyll was abandoned when I was little, and with my sisters, we used to motor through the marshes and tie up at the decaying, columned wharf. I would play in the enormous houses with banging shutters. I’ve written about this in my memoir (which comes out next spring). For now, enough to say that it was more than magical. And very stirring to come back after all these years and stay in the Jekyll Island Club Hotel, now an historic hotel and to see nearby the Crane house that enchanted me the most. (It’s now an annex to the hotel and next time I’ll stay there.) The murky, froggy swimming pool surrounded by urns is now a garden. I wonder how many people know that! And the surprise was seeing the architecture–an Italianate grand house with cypresses on either side. I’ll bet they didn’t know they were planting a male and a female (left).
The former pool is off to the right. At age ten, this, for sure, is the first Italianate house I’d ever seen. What hit me, on seeing it now, is the doorway with the balcony above, and the symmetrical windows in the main body of the house. Although Bramasole is not nearly so imposing, there must have been a mysterious imprint.
Bramasole used to be flanked by two palms, not cypresses, but one died along the way. Looking at this photo makes me realize what a world away from my childhood is my Italian life. And also, how connections keep happening. “The more you see, the more there is to love,” I once wrote. What luck, to travel and revel in the world!
Frances, I’m thrilled you mentioned me and Goodwood in your blog. I will pass along the link to Diane Roberts and the Goodwood folks. After reading the account of your travels; makes me want to hit the road and seek adventure.
I loved this feast of a blog post, a double feast for the eyes and memory. I spent lots of time in the Jekyll Island area growing up, too… an aunt lived there. Thank you so much for giving all of us these treasures. And as for, “What luck to travel and revel… ,” YOU made that ‘luck’ for yourself by the life you’ve worked hard for and won. Congratulations on that life and on the new book, the memoir, which I am eagerly awaiting. Oh, and have fun with painting! As a painter, I’m thrilled to think of you doing that! Hope I can see some of your efforts someday!
i loved reading your mellifluous descriptions of florida, i’m a teacher, not a writer, so i explain, not paint, descriptions. i will be traveling to Cortona in June as part of Jeremiah Patterson and Fred Wessel’s painting workshops. I email them every now and then, from snowy Cleveland, telling them I am dreaming of (and literally ‘yearning for’) Bramasole. When they told me I just might bump into you, I almost cried. I have read all of your books, and am your biggest fan. I love your watercolor creations, I’m sure Jeremiah would love if you sat in with us in the hills for one of his demos
Dear Frances: In my ‘new’ life of semi-retirement, I no longer am the keeper of the keys, as it were, and don’t need to be in the office at the crack of dawn as I used to be. Sleeping in a bit later, dawdling over coffee, the newspaper, and my latest book in the morning (I am rereading “Every day in Tuscany” now, which seems to jump out at me every time I reach for it and see the piazza in Cortona on the cover. I finished reading the chapter on the Italianis yesterday and it was wonderful to put the faces to the names and to actually know the people you write about)is a bit more of a happily-acquired taste than I thought it would be. My impulse has always been to get to the office early so that I can leave in time to enjoy dinner with my family and it was more of a habit than I’d realized.
I enjoyed your description of Florida, which I know so little about except that my wife and I enjoyed a week on Sanibel Island when we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. I can still see the shells and my wife has a particularly unflattering picture of me doing the “Sanibel Stoop” during our sun-filled/shell-filled days there. (My carry-on bag was crammed with sea shells from that trip and that may have been the start of some chronic shoulder problems but I probably don’t want to admit it.)
We are in the midst of finalizing our December trip to Rome and Cortona and are still thinking of going via Madrid so the fun continues. Part of the joy of this trip is the thought of bringing our youngest son with us–and we are sure Ivan’s pleas to ‘mangia, mangia’ will be happily met by our son, who can eat with wild abandon and great joy!)
It is cold in New Jersey, too, but getting up in the mid-40′s today so I shouldn’t complain. Spring is in sight! Best regards: Scott
Loved this description of your Florida trip and return to the past in Georgia. The more memories we accumulate over the years, the easier it is to see the connections. Admirable first try at watercolors. Complimenti.
Lovely photos, a getaway to Florida sounds heavenly!
This was lovely. Thanks for giving me a break from home–and I didn’t even have to leave my desk!
Dear Ed & Frances,
How we wish we had known that you were in Florida! We would have easily driven miles to be able to meet you and hear you speak. We spent part of our honeymoon in your precious Bramasole with Ed and Jan – so many beautiful memories from the fall of 2000! Now we are eagerly expecting your Olive Oil to arrive any day now! Many regards!
Ciao Frances, How lovely to read your blog, I almost felt as though I with you and Ed in the backseat (spooky). Looking forward to seeing you for lunch in Florence or in Piazza della repubblica in Cortona for a cappuccino or dinner at Borgo di Vagli. Baci e abbracci da Firenze Lee
Thanks you, Frances, for the great description of your most recent travels. It’s such a pleasure to read your descriptions of this part of the world, and to find that you “travel and revel” in places I’ve long loved (but haven’t visited in years), like Jekyll and the Golden Isles (we stayed on St.Simons), Sanibel (we loved Boca Grande), and the interior of Florida – it even smells different there, rich and tangy. Looking forward to having this year’s bottled oil arrive, we enjoyed fresh bread and olive oil from the November shipment just this morning for breakfast.
Dear Frances,
Sitting here (about two miles from your and Ed’s front porch) as I type this (and having just read this latest posting), all I can think is “That’s just lovely….and invigorating”, and I’m forcefully reminded why I loved your writing years before I first met you and Ed in a grocery store.
To clarify (for other readers of the blog?)….
I’ve recently moved to Hillsborough (Frances and Ed live on the edge of this small town, in which none of its “edges” are more than a mile apart). I lived in Durham (a big town, twenty miles or so away) for the 25 previous years. One morning (about a year ago), I was in the Whole Foods grocery store and saw a tall, handsome man looking a bit skeptically at the bakery-counter’s offerings for that morning. I thought (having bought and read plenty of Mayes books) “Is that ED MAYES?”. I also thought “You can’t just poke a strangerin his ribs and ask him if he’s ‘Ed’…”……but I did…..and it turns out he was, indeed, himself….and there was surprisingly-tiny Miss Frances standing behind me, saying hello and, in mock-despair, waving a bunch of what-passes-for (and expensively so) “fresh” basil in these parts.
They were delightful and funny and friendly and everything I should have expected.
In any case….what a lovely posting, Frances. I know nothing of Florida (except for my memories of some dreadful vacations when my parents took all three of their young boys to Orlando in the 1970′s, because we/they THOUGHT we had to go…how can you be a Real American if you haven’t been to Disneyworld? We all hated it, presumably for our own individual reasons, in addition to our corporate repulsion. I should emphasize that, at the time, everyone was either an adult in his/her thirties, and my brothers&I were 11 and 5. Even our younger brother hated it, at age five.)
I distinctly recall that,when we finally got all of ourselves back to East Tennessee, I took the dried&stuffed baby-alligator (a caiman, I now know) I’d gotten as a souviener (sp?), and prepubescent-me buried it in the compost heap. Rather obviously (and your posting so evocatively indicates), we should have gone elsewhere in Florida.
Not entirely by the way?…it’s so good to hear that you’re allowing yourself to “play” with watercolors. I would never have become an artist myself if I hadn’t allowed myself (under some distinctly non-judgemental circumstances, when I was, in my late twenties, dutifully/grimly plodding through a dissertation on Thomas Hardy and waiting tables on-the-side) to begin “playing” with pen&ink.
As for Diane Roberts? The lady is, indeed, beyond delightful…and so deeply funny….smart as a whip, also. I once & happily sat next to her under an inadequate tent (it was raining like merry-hell) at an outdoor fundraising dinner/”gala” for an enterprisingly under-funded “Southern Literary Review”. Literary reviews of any sort (as you and Ed will know) are never exactly over-funded…..but this one took the cake in terms of an eye-popping discrepancy between ambitions and financial-means (I should emphasize that I really liked the editor/founder a great deal). I did most of the illustrations at that time (this has got be twenty years ago). Diane Roberts was wonderful (I knew her NPR commentaries well), and I have a vague memory of her and my trying to join everyone as we were requested to slip and slide our fancy-dres way across a sodden lawn to some other location for the ill-starred event’s concluding, giddy death-rattle of speeches, etcetera. Diane Roberts was, predictably enough, a trooper through it all.
Well, enough of my typing. Obviously (given the length of my response), this posting is wonderfully evocative. Thank you,
David Terry
http://www.davidterryart.com
Cara Frances, It sounds like a facinating but relaxing and nostalgic trip!!! Now I have a few new places to visit on my huge list! Thank you for the book recomendations also and how cute that you read to Ed in the car. Loved the photo of Bramasole…bellissima! I always look forward to your new blog posts and will anxiously await your memoirs next spring! Am bringing a friend to Cortona in luglio for her first visit, we surely will make the trek to see Bramasole and hope to see you in the piazza! The more you see the more you love forr sure. Grazie, Patricia Miller Ohio
I, too, am considering a memoir. Your writing of Florida was strangely poignant. The shells, the sunsets, even the driving … but I thought your watercolor was lovely. loveslit.blogspot.com
Must start by saying how much I enjoyed your Tweets on the way to and from Florida – an appetiser as it were to this more fleshed out feast . So thank you for both! In my case, being from much further North, I was well into my forties before I stopped turning up my nose at Florida and decided to give it a chance. Actually bought a travel guide in London in order to approach it as a “foreigner” for my first visit (rather than as mere Canadian tourist). Best thing I ever did. From Bonnet House to Viszcaya on the Atlantic side and the joys of Sarasota and environs on the Gulf Coast, so much history and incredible natural beauty. Thank you for sharing your experiences and insights. They help tide us over until your next book . Best wishes always.
P.S. perhaps I should add (having just read over what I’d written) that I understand the difference between “repulsion” and “revulsion”. Suffice it to say that I distinctly recall my 5 year old brother’s being grossed-out by some 7-foot tall, Orlando Mickey mouse who wanted to “HUG!” him. Basically, our whole family spent the entire Orlando-theme-park-visit wishing that grinning people/employees would get out of our faces….and subsequently screaming at Mickey Mouse (among others) to “Go AWAY!”. I expect that whatever 20 year-old was in the costume felt pretty awful, but so did we.
All the way back home, my older brother and I kept moaning “Why didn’t we go to the Okeefenokee or the Everglades! We HATE amusement parks!” (we’d seen them on the television program “Wild Kingdom”). My parents agreed that we’d made a great mistake by not simply going to inland Florida to see something REAL.
Well, enough of this….someday, I’ll get to places like Pensecola (sp?) and Tallahassee….they sound (and look, in your photographs) lovely.
—david terry
Must start by saying how much I enjoyed your Tweets on the way to and from Florida – an appetiser as it were to this more fleshed out feast . So thank you for both! In my case, being from much further North, I was well into my forties before I stopped turning up my nose at Florida and decided to give it a chance. Actually bought a travel guide in London in order to approach it as a “foreigner” for my first visit (rather than as mere Canadian tourist). Best thing I ever did. From Bonnet House to Viszcaya on the Atlantic side and the joys of Sarasota and environs on the Gulf Coast, so much history and incredible natural beauty. Thank you for sharing your experiences and insights. They help tide us over until your next book . Best wishes always.
Thank you for initiating a recall of my time spent in Florida. There are truly some wonderful discoveries to be found there. I did find your watercolor to be lovely, and do hope that you will continue to express yourself in this new found medium. Thank you for sharing!
When you said “please don’t laugh at my primo effort” in watercolor, should we take that to mean the photo below, in front of the seashells? If so, nothing to laugh at there at all. It’s quite beautiful, in fact. I applaud not only the brave spirit of exploration, but the end result, too. I find watercolor a challenging medium, but worth the effort toward mastering it.
I came to your blog to ask a question that’s unrelated to this post, however. Sorry to create a diversion from the dialog, but I didn’t know how else to contact you.
As Spring approaches in the northeastern USA, thoughts turn to gardening, as they do everywhere during this season. I’ve come upon a garden mystery in Italy that I thought you, of all people, might be able to solve for me. I don’t see this so much in the south of Italy, but in central and northern Italy—gardeners putting inverted bottles on the ends of their vegetable support stakes and trellis tops. I’ve never seen it here in the states except for purely decorative “bottle trees”.
When I inquired of an organic farmer near Volterra, his reply was simply “insetti”. So I am left wondering if this served the purpose of attracting some kind of beneficial insect, or repelling the bad guys. Or perhaps it serves some other purpose? I don’t recall you mentioning it in Every Day in Tuscany (or am I forgetting?), so wonder if you have any insight into this. Maybe it’s just a convenient place to put a water bottle after one has emptied it?
Thanks for a continually interesting blog. I especially appreciated the recent post regarding healthcare. I’d take Italy’s system over ours any day of the week–and you were wise to make mention of Italy’s “hidden economy”. It’s a fact that can’t be ignored in a discussion of healthcare, or anything else in Italy, for that matter. Cheers, Jennifer
Jennifer, very interesting! I’ve never seen that. I have seen water bottles placed around doors and benches. This is supposed to keep cats away. So maybe the bottles on stakes is to repel as well. I will be on the lookout for this! Frances
I am from Louisiana and have spen a lot of time in Florida and St. Simons Island! I love St. Simons most. I currently live in Tulum Mexico but if I ever returned to the United States St. Simons would be my home. I am writing to ask a question about your home in Italy. My husband and I are getting ready to start building a new home here and I wanted to know if the color of you home was something you and your husband chose or if it just by time and Italy weather! I have no idea what to call it so I told my husband it was Itanlian sunset/peach. If you could give me any ideas I would really appreciate it. I have enjoyed all your books and look forward to the next.
Sincerely, Amy
Amy- Italian sunset peach seems like a good description to me. The color is just what happened after many years of people changing their minds about the paint color! Tulum! How wonderful! Frances
What a colorful, delightful tour this blog has been.
My *wake up* reading these past few weeks has been *Every Day in Tuscany* – what a roller coaster of poignant lows (once we *discover* them, readers so want our favorite authors to live in a safe and happy bubble)and rollicking, exuberant highs (delighting in Willie in the kitchen, as I have 10 grandchildren of my own and Ashley’s visits – I tag along with her to the piazza in the morning for due caffe, which I think is a righteous ritual). And I laughed so to learn that you have a modest yellow Fiat. I bought a yellow Fiat 500 in December before I began reading this book. It’s jaunty shape and sunshine color gives me a lift every time I see it. Now I completely understand your affection for your Fiat. I fret to think that Tuscany is changing so fast. Will there be room for me by the time I get there? This is what wakes me up at night…when the moon is shining brightly here and on the Etruscan hills.
Thanks for keeping this happy blog rolling – I can turn to it regularly for inspiration and a bit of Tuscan peace.
Dear Frances,
I hope you are fine!
I loved this post, as well as the others you wrote too, of course, but this one particularly brought to me nice memories of my life when I lived and traveled South Florida. I stayed there 5 years, the 5 most wonderful years of my life, because I wrote my first novel there! What happened then with my novel, you may be wondering, nothing Frances, but you know, the most amazing feeling is just realized that this is you were born for, even you are not succesful on it. Very very nice memories, nice places, nice beaches and perfect towns. To me, as a passionate cook and veggies and fruits lover, Homestead is a must to visit, and an unforgettable place.
Thanks for this, it made me smile, soft and nicely…
A big hug from Buenos Aires, and big hug from my heart too…
Marisa
May I say something about bottle trees as mentioned by one of your readers. Bottle trees are indigenous to Mississippi by way of Africa. They go back to the 1700′s,I’ve read. The belief was that by putting a bottle over the end of a limb or branch, one would keep evil spirits away from their home. I, personally, love seeing bottle trees around as we travel through the deep South. They are unexpected sprigs of color; playful and joyful.
This blog post was most interesting as we’ve spent winters in various parts of Florida for the past 8-10 years. The unknown areas as so interesting and there are so many “floridas” within the State, each with its own personality.
What a wonderful trip! Growing up, we visited my Grandpeople in Naples, FL every year. I spent many spring breaks and long summer weekends near Tiger Tail Beach. I read that you are writing a book about your move back home to the South and I cannot wait. We’re from Indiana and moved to the Upstate of South Carolina this past July. The Carolinas are so incredibly special and I feel such a connection to this area, which I’m sure you do as well. If you like antiquing (I am addicted), try Saluda, NC or Landrum, SC. Saluda has eclectic shops & every trip should include a stop at The Purple Onion for a Reuben and a glass of sweet tea. (Brevard, NC is also a great place to go. They have white squirrels!) Anyway, thank you for writing such wonderful novels. I’ve read them over and over again. Blessings from SC, Amanda
Thank you so much for writing about Florida. I have lived in Florida almost my entire life (except during my husbands Navy years – four in Hawaii and one in San Francisco) I grew up in Miami, lived in Jacksonville and Avon Park and now have resided in Tampa for almost twenty-seven years. There are so many beautiful places that tourists never see. Highland Hammock State Park, Bok Tower in Lake Wales, Mount Dora. Despite living here so long, there are still many places that I have yet to discover. Florida is not just Disney and Beaches. Your blog was heart warming and so personal. Thank you again
I lost the love of my life a few months back…. You didn’t know but your blog was my little nightly escape from the awful cancer my husband of 37 yrs. had that went thru his whole body with the speed of a bullet.
Thank you for your wonderful snipets of the travel we once enjoyed & how he longed to get back to our kind of living.
I will travel again, but our memories of a wonderful life keep me sane these precious days and especially reading your wonderful blog.
Heidi, I am so sorry to hear about your husband. The hardest thing… Frances
Thank you Frances for your kind words….. Weekends are the most difficult times & this wkend is no exception. But I look so forward to your view of life & travels…keep up the good work & know that many of us are faithful followers. ‘On the road again’ was my favorite motto. And getting back home was the best of all.
Enjoy each other….to the nth degree!
I’m sitting here in my studio apt. in Mexico City and was thinking about what to read on line. I started an audio of “A Tale of Two Cities” and even though I want to finish it I just wasn’t in the mood for a heavy tale just yet. For some reason I thought, “I wonder what Frances Mayes is up to” so I googled your name and your blog came up. It’s just what I needed – I was pulled right in to your adventures and to your style of writing. I stayed at the Jekyll Island Club Hotel in the late 1990s and was as enchanted with it as you are. We even played croquet on a crisply clipped lawn. I, like you, lived in the Bay Area of California but retired in Mexico. I prefer city life rather than the resort areas and this city suits me fine. Have you ever visited? If not, you must. So nice to be back in touch – sorry I’ve neglected you for well, maybe five years.
Bobbye, You are right–many things to love about Mexico City! I hope to get back there sometime soon. Frances