Wednesday, January 25, 2012
The Villages, Florida - I Remember
...This couple. They sat at the bar at Red Sauce, the restaurant opposite Gator's at Sumter Square. The restaurant where Josh, the polite bartender, served me Bloody Mary, extra spicy with three olives, and didn't charge me for a glass of unsweetened iced tea. The lady ordered tea with honey. She introduced herself, says her name is Lou. Lou delivers singing grams for anyone wishing to send a friend or loved one a melodious message. For more information about Lou, contact Mark Brodeur. That is the gentleman seated alongside Lou. Mark Broudeur says he is Master Hair Cutter and owner of Salon Bozadjianhttps://www.facebook.com/salonboz located in Oakland Hills Professional Center, at 13940, HWY 441, Bldg. 900, Suite #901, in Lady Lake, FL. He says can you put my information on your blog. I say sure. When you call for that hair appointment or Lou-singing gram, be sure to mention my name. Just say Linda from New York sent you.
...Roaming The Villages one bright sunny day and how excited I got locating the Learning Center at the end of Bellevedere. I stepped inside and explored possibility of giving my own writing course. Got paperwork folded neatly and tucked lovingly in my journal. Yes, this writer has a dream.
...Seeing this quote on a shiny blue golf cart parked in front of Maidenform store just off Lake Sumter Road. I stopped and snapped the above photo. The day was unusually warm for this time of year in The Villages. I remember wishing I had worn short sleeves and shorts, not long sleeved pink top and jeans.
...Stopping to admire this golf cart and it reminding me of my Aunt Jo and cousin Joanne. Both are gone and it brought tears to my eyes recalling how when I was a younger gal, Aunt Jo drove from Quarry Heights to Elmsford to pick me up for a weekend sleepover in a 1957 Chevy. That Chevy was bright yellow, and the memory of Joanne and I fighting over who got to sit on the side with the cows on the ride back to her house still penetrates my brain.
...The kind Villages woman who gave me an empty cardboard box. She works in the florist shop down Canal Street, says pack your stuff up and ship it home. She says everyone does it. She says that is the way it's done here in The Villages. Handing me the carton, she directed me to the nearest Pack and Ship store located in Trace Shopping Center.
...Standing in the pouring sunshine and gazing into a storefront window admiring this bathtub. A pang of homesickness flooded the landscape of my mind as memories of Grand Central Station and subway tiles the color of snow flashed my brain. In my mind's eye, I had been transported to a different place 1300 miles from where I stood, swiping a token card in a gated slot and racing for a subway.
...Multi-colored paw prints painted indelibly in a sidewalk of concrete reminding me of another time, a favorite rat terrier fur child, Izzy, and my wishing to hold his paw, scratch behind his furry ear, and inhale the scent of his smelly breath on the nape of my neck one last time.
...Walking through the door to this store and purchasing a green blanket I saw draped in the front window. It had a picture of a dog looking just like Izzy on it. The blanket cost $65, and there wasn't another one like it in stock. Because it was a display item, the owner said I could have it for $35.
...Driving my golf cart from Churchill Downs to Sumter Square, getting lost, turning off Lynnhaven and discovering an antique car parked all by itself. No one was around. I parked my golf cart, took out my Nikon and snapped a photo, admiring the car's brilliant gleam while thoughts about my dad wormed my brain. My dad loved old cars.
...Walking the dock at Lake Sumter one only evening. I faced west watching the sun set in the distant sky. I got a warm fuzzy feeling all over as memories of a red apartment door with matching SMEG refrigerator filled my brain. Ignoring my new ringing Verizon Stratus cell phone, I recorded the lowering fire ball.
When sitting down to write and facing the blank page, don't think I am unable to write. Begin with I remember and simply go from there. Let your wild mind lead you. Every time you lose your thought, return to your topic, I remember. You get the picture *pun intended*.
"I don't know whether the urge to write is carried in the strands of our DNA or is a learned behavior."--Janet Alexander Pell
Until this time next time.
See you in print,
Linda Della Donna