Luscious Mangoes!

Mango season is in June, here in South Florida.
There are at least 400 varities of the luscious fruit.
Some are full of sugary, yellow-orange flesh that drips mountains of juice down your chin when you bite into one, and then there are other mangoes that are stringy, not that juicey, and are difficult to eat.
But when you find a mango tree in your neighborhood, that explodes with the juicey, ripe flesh of the most perfect mango, you believe you must keep it a secret from the rest of the neighborhood. And.... you pray that the owner of the tree, doesn't tell a soul about his tree.

I have found such a tree. In April, I begin my bicycle rides through the neighborhood, up and down the alley ways, in search of the perfect mango tree.
I ride around on my bike, hunting, prowling the neighborhood.
After I have made a thorough search, I document my findings, mentally.
Then in June, as the first mango begins to fall from the tree, with the first downpour of a summer shower, I jump on my bike and head straight for the alley that will bring me to my treasure.

I ride back and forth, trying not to be too noticeable. I check to see who's home, who's in their yard, where the barking dog is, and where the closest mango, within reach is.

When I think the coast is clear, I jump off my bike and casually stroll up to the tree. I then work fast, grabbing 5-6 mangoes. I don't want to empty the tree, and I don't want to cause alarm to the owner. But I know, deep down inside, that I am not the only once casing this tree. My time is limited, to fulfil my desire for sweet, sugary, mangoes.

I know, that in a matter of time, as the time approaches for my mango tree to start dropping it's ripe, luscious mangoes to the ground, that some landscaper has also got his eyes on my tree. I know that any day now, when I return for a few more mangoes, that the tree will have been stripped clean of all fruit. Yes.... it's happened every year that I have lived in South Florida. Someone comes in and strips every single fruit off the tree.

I feel badly, knowing that my time is very limited. So... I get on my bike, and begin looking for my most perfect avocado tree.

How To Live On An Island

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How To Live On An Island


Hurricane Jeanne came through. C and I boarded up the house, and then got cozy. We made 2 pots of coffee and put in thermos's. We made a HUGE bowl of salted popcorn. She made chicken wings, and mashed cauliflower, and iced down lots of beer and vodka. And then we waited. We were glued to the weather channel, watching this huge thing rotate right off our beach. We kept walking over to the east windows and looking through a tiny crack in the shutters, looking for a storm surge to come rushing down the street. We waited, ate, drank, played cards, waited. Stayed glued to the TV. About midnight, I got too restless. I asked her to remove one of the shutters so we can watch the beach. We never lost electric. Finally around 3 am, we finally collapsed in bed. Woke up to sand everywhere, but we still had power. And there went Jeanne. Gone like the wind. And we were hungover, and full of salty foods.

My Hollywood Beach, FL

The Woman Behind The Art

More Thought Provoking Thoughts

Hurricane Charlie is just a bad dream now... The gulf coast is recooperating, most of the landscapers and tree surgeons from all over the U.S. have packed up their chain saws and ladders and headed to the Port Charlotte/Punta Gorda area to make a killing in cutting down trees, removing them from homes/cars/properties. Alot of people are going to get rich from this hurricane. I remember Hurricane Andrew hitting Miami in '92. We didn't sustain any damage, or fallen trees, but neighbors did. But I remember all the men that came down to this area with chain saws, and made soooooo much money from cutting down trees. The insurance industry didn't quite know how to deal with all the devastation, so... many people in Homestead, and the Redlands, and South Miami became rich off their damage. Best friends in Homestead made out like bandits.. They took their insurance money and bought a boat, trailer, 2 wave riders, and a corvette, all in turquoise. Unbelievable.

My S.O. has a second home in Central Florida, cute little town called Winterhaven. Only damage done there were fallen trees, leaning telephone poles.. but no real damage.

My father lived on the last street before the gulf, in Punta Gorda.. Have no idea if he still lives there, or owns in Punta Gorda any longer... One of those parents that was never kind, horrible role model, and just a real lousey bastard. Once heard from a therapist that we "choose" our parents... I can't believe I had chosen that bastard!

We returned from a cruise this past week. We met two lovely men from Punta Gorda, that had just gone through Charlie. They had to take the trip, they didn't purchase traveler's insurance. So here were these two nice men, on a cruise, while their house was wrecked, and in shambles.

People ask me, "How can you live in Florida?" Now that's a silly question. "How can you live in Canada?" You get frigid weather for 8 months, I get hot, muggy weather for 8 months." I still prefer running around in next to nothing, than in a snorkel coat and snow shoes. But comeon, do you think you could refrain from wearing speedo's in my presence? I mean... if I wanted to look at your.... thing, I could turn on Showtime at midnight. Please, please.. wear some boxers. Please?


Stress reliever: paint brush, paints and a canvas.
bad vibes: drinking scotch on an empty stomach, looking at a man from Quebec in a tiny little speedo on MY beach.
The good life: being healthy, happy and with my children.