written Monday 31 March 2003
|Cold morning in Florida|
Probably my last breakfast at Winter Park's fiercely English Daily Express, possibly the only deli on the planet where you can hear without irony: "Care for grits, mate?" But this morning a TV on the counter blared about Iraq (between loud ads for deodorants and lawyers). I doubt I'll be back. I have so few Florida days left that I have to choose carefully what I want to do one last time and what I must skip and relegate to memory.
Bumper sticker in front of the Daily Express:
What if the Hokey Pokey IS what it's all about?
Walking across the grocery store parking lot was a trial--windy and 46F/7C. I thought I might freeze, but that is the average temperature in Chicago, where I'll move in a few days. They say surviving the cold is simply about the right clothes. I hope they're right.
I'm finding Dutch pronunciation to be pretty easy, except that I often swap the gutteral G sound with the similar H sound. "Heel goed" (very good) often comes out "geel hoed" (yellow hat).
Tried to lunch outside (but out of the cold wind) at the Briarpatch, Winter Park. They seated me, then forgot me. I counted to honderd and walked. And I really had wanted their Gorgonzola and Walnut salad, the one that, among other things, induces labor.
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