Five day meme, day two
Feb. 5th, 2015 11:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fufaraw1. What is the meaning behind your LJ name?
2. What was your favourite childhood book or books?
3. What is your favourite recipe and why? Try to post the recipe if you have time.
4. What are the top 5 things on your wish list & have you done any of them?
5. What do you collect?
My dad was awfully fond of Florida. He had a week's vacation at Christmas, and he often took a second week then, too, and we would drive down to Florida before the holidays, and be back home by Christmas morning. My parents grew a big vegetable garden, and vacation trips in summer were rare because the beans, or the peas, or the tomatoes or corn would be coming in, and heaven forfend a morsel of food went unharvested, processed, and either canned or frozen (after Mom's death in 2009 I was clearing jars of green beans dated 1972 from the basement shelves and bags of corn dated 1984 from the chest freezer on the porch--but a least it hadn't gone to waste, right?), so we took our vacation at Christmas time.
They'd get me up in the dark of 3 or 4 AM, we'd pile in the car and Dad would drive south with a soaring heart and me dozing in the back seat.
He loved Daytona the best. The novelty of driving our heavy old Caddy right onto the beach thrilled him, and the unaccustomed luxury of living in a motel less than a block's walk from the beach, with maid service, and no responsibilities made my mom happy. I remember driving past miles and miles of orange groves, roadside fruit stands with 'gator farm exhibits out back, and tourist crafts and imported items (outhouses carved from tree branches, with doors that opened. Salt and pepper shakers made from coconut shells. Hats with stupid slogans, and felt pennants on sticks) for sale. I still have a plastic and chrome "seashell" bracelet Daddy bought me, a grownup piece of costume jewelry less garish in my adult gaze than one would expect. I have fond memories of Florida.
So I suppose it's no surprise my favorite book recalls a lot of those Florida memories.
A widow with three young children inherits a rundown apartment building in Florida, and the family packs up all their belongings, plus Henrietta, the family cat, and moves to Florida. Getting to know the residents and learning to shoulder responsibility, making new friends, and solving a couple of mysteries are all set against a small coastal town of the type that no longer exists in the high-volume tourist country Florida has become. I've returned to the book throughout adolescence and adulthood. Fondest memories include piling up on the bed with my kids on thunderstormy summer afternoons while the fan turned lazily overhead, and sharing it with them. It's still a nostalgic, feel-good afternoon's read.
2. What was your favourite childhood book or books?
3. What is your favourite recipe and why? Try to post the recipe if you have time.
4. What are the top 5 things on your wish list & have you done any of them?
5. What do you collect?
My dad was awfully fond of Florida. He had a week's vacation at Christmas, and he often took a second week then, too, and we would drive down to Florida before the holidays, and be back home by Christmas morning. My parents grew a big vegetable garden, and vacation trips in summer were rare because the beans, or the peas, or the tomatoes or corn would be coming in, and heaven forfend a morsel of food went unharvested, processed, and either canned or frozen (after Mom's death in 2009 I was clearing jars of green beans dated 1972 from the basement shelves and bags of corn dated 1984 from the chest freezer on the porch--but a least it hadn't gone to waste, right?), so we took our vacation at Christmas time.
They'd get me up in the dark of 3 or 4 AM, we'd pile in the car and Dad would drive south with a soaring heart and me dozing in the back seat.
He loved Daytona the best. The novelty of driving our heavy old Caddy right onto the beach thrilled him, and the unaccustomed luxury of living in a motel less than a block's walk from the beach, with maid service, and no responsibilities made my mom happy. I remember driving past miles and miles of orange groves, roadside fruit stands with 'gator farm exhibits out back, and tourist crafts and imported items (outhouses carved from tree branches, with doors that opened. Salt and pepper shakers made from coconut shells. Hats with stupid slogans, and felt pennants on sticks) for sale. I still have a plastic and chrome "seashell" bracelet Daddy bought me, a grownup piece of costume jewelry less garish in my adult gaze than one would expect. I have fond memories of Florida.
So I suppose it's no surprise my favorite book recalls a lot of those Florida memories.
A widow with three young children inherits a rundown apartment building in Florida, and the family packs up all their belongings, plus Henrietta, the family cat, and moves to Florida. Getting to know the residents and learning to shoulder responsibility, making new friends, and solving a couple of mysteries are all set against a small coastal town of the type that no longer exists in the high-volume tourist country Florida has become. I've returned to the book throughout adolescence and adulthood. Fondest memories include piling up on the bed with my kids on thunderstormy summer afternoons while the fan turned lazily overhead, and sharing it with them. It's still a nostalgic, feel-good afternoon's read.
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Date: 2015-02-06 01:31 am (UTC)