The boys and I got back to South Florida Sunday evening. Adam and his friend, Stephen unloaded the truck yesterday and carried all my stuff up to the second floor and into the condominium. We had sorted through my old letters, other papers and detritus of daily living, as well as early (immature) art work and trashed most of it in Lancaster, so there wasn't a lot to store in closets. I had a double bed for the spare bedroom, two chest of drawers, a high boy, several occasional tables, 3 oriental carpets, my old easy chair, 2 lamps, and many boxes of books, some bookshelves, kitchen utensils and dishes. We put the easy chair in my bedroom along with one of the lamps. One oriental went in the living room, one in the dining area, and one in my bedroom. The chests of drawers went each in one bedroom, and the bookshelves in my bedroom so that it doubles as a library. The boys returned the rental truck to the Penske lot, a field up in Jupiter during a “frog strangler” thunderstorm.
I have more books than shelves so the boys have helped me to install some freestanding shelves in the livingroom. We staggered them, zig-zagging across one wall, so they add contemporary but cozy flare to the room. My handsome young neighbor helped us build the shelves, and when Adam and Stephen introduced themselves, he said - “Hi, I’m Pete." Stephen swears that his “gaydar” went off, so Adam jokes with him about having become enamored with my hunky neighbor. "Don't you dare invade that closet," he says.
I’ve taken the boys out to dinner two times as reward for their help, and I've discovered that they both drink more than I think is healthy, though I try to hold my tongue. Adam assures me that they drink far less than most of their friends. Tonight we’re eating in. I’m making my famous “fried fish in Muddy Water Sauce.”
Tomorrow the boys plan on going to the beach. I’ll drive them over, stay under the umbrella for a time and read my book, take a few photographs, then walk back to the condo for exercise. Adam says they want to take me out clubbing in West Palm Beach Friday evening, and I’m saying, “NO!” But, I might be persuaded, though it will be frustrating to stand there and watch everyone dance. If I were just twenty years younger!
I’m going to miss the boys terribly when they leave! I hope they have such a wonderful time during the next two weeks that they will want to return as often as possible.
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