"Gorgeous" Times Four

After more than five seasons, the Folly is looking pretty good.  Inside, at least.  We re-painted last year.

The addition of our electric chariot crowded Delia's cozy carport, but proved to be a house game changer with four passenger seats instead of just one.

We celebrated its early March arrival at the Colony Hotel's gay night in Palm Beach.  Most of the patrons weren't much younger than the cost of three cocktails:  80 bucks!  

Too bad my dressed-to-kill housemates forgot their pocket squares, the evening's de rigueur accessory.  

The Folly now boasts the kind of decorative mailbox that makes Lake Worth Beach so distinctive.  I collaged it with stamps the Post Office issued to commemorate the 20th century.  Unfortunately, the intense Florida sun already has begun to bleach these cultural, political, social and scientific reminders of my first 50 years.

Each row represents a decade.  I ordered the '80s and '90s online.

Maybe it was turning 70 and the settled feel of post-pandemic life, but I enjoyed my time at the Folly more than in years past and tried harder to appreciate Lake Worth's funky architecture and landscaping.  Is that hearse parked next to the vintage store sending a message?

 

Anticipation of my only new automobile purchase is reflected in several photos, if not my color choice.  

  

We definitely live in a, low-key peaceful community

where residents spend a lot of time fishing, golfing 

. . . and street painting.

The Folly's cinderblock walls made it the perfect place to host a 9 Carman reunion.  See what Paul, the Jeffs and Henry looked like in 1975.

There were several outings, too, even before the arrival of the chariot, thanks to Steven, Thom & Christine.

Riverbend Park, Jupiter

The Bass Museum, Miami

The Manatee Lagoon, Riviera Beach

Holocaust Memorial, Miami

The Bunker, West Palm Beach

Wynwood, Miami

En Route to MacArthur Park

We certainly ate well, including a couple of delicious meals at Oceano Kitchen which relocated from Lantana to Lake Worth.  Small plates, big taste.  But chef:  please bring back the pizza oven!

We dined outside every chance we got at the Folly.

I added a new dish to my limited repertoire:  roasted peppers with chickpeas and goat cheese, a tasty accompaniment to salmon, our most frequent entree.

Chris turned Thom and I onto tofu . . .

if not the clean up, which joined my collection of abstract photos.

These came in pretty handy during two of the most intense deluges I've ever experienced.

It looks like the lizards at the Folly have been checking out the Kama Sutra.

An orchid we bought in 2021 bloomed extravagantly, perhaps because of all the autumn rain that Chris endured.

A neighbor's flame vine was no shrinking violet, either.

Casual birdwatching continues to delight.  Thom saw an alligator in Lake Osborne, too.

To extend my range, I biked several miles both north and south on A1A before beginning long beach walks.  I'll bet few snowbirds have walked the eleven miles from the clock tower on Worth Avenue to the Boynton Pier.  Many people aren't even aware that you can do so because they mistakenly believe you're trespassing on private land.  Not true according to Florida law.

Man o'war, my bête noire, got their own entry.

Remnants of old docks or piers can do real bodily damage when submerged.

Much of the beach only can be walked at low tide while exercising your white privilege.  No one ever has stopped me, not even in front of Mar a Lago.

  

Some of the bulkheads seem more like stadium seating where you'll be able to watch the Atlantic swallow the overbuilt barrier island.  Make your reservations now to watch the one percent go down.

Fewer beachcombers means better shelling.

Steven, who flew down early for a reverse positioning cruise he and Chris were taking to Portugal out of Ft. Lauderdale, inaugurated our new sofa bed.   We drove the chariot to the Apple store in Wellington where I bought a new i-Phone and we tried on the Apple Vision Pro goggles.  I'm not convinced.

Although we didn't party as much as recently retired Steven would have liked ("It's hard to get you guys to go ANYWHERE!"), we did have a fun night before saying "bon voyage."  Ava served us happy hour cocktails at the Library and, after dining at Oceano Kitchen, 

. . .  we made our debut at Lake Worth's sole gay bar.  As we entered, a Latina trans woman pointed at each of us and pronounced "gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous," proving that even old meat can be fresh in the right context. 

What a sweet way to end the joint season!  Thom will hang on another month.