I want a tree like this, a tree with a face. When we were in Key West, we tended to eschew Duval Street and favored the back streets instead. It seemed like every home, every building had character. Was a character. I guess that’s what you get, when you live at both the end of the world and in paradise. Key West seems like a throwback, to an earlier time. It really isn’t, but it feels that way.
We are almost ready for the painters/plasters, a father and son team. Except for last minute items the rooms to be renovated are stripped of adornment. They echo now, what with the walls being bare. I have great expectations for what they will look like when done. The muscle soreness that I induced earlier this week, with a monumental day of moving, has begun to fade. I look forward to a completely repainted main floor. After thirty plus years, the place will look as nice again as the day we bought it.