After a day at Larry's and Helen's in Miami, we took off for Kissimme. Had great digs, with a huge middle area for living, dining, and sitting room, and identical wings on either side. Each contained a master suite (jacuzzi, etc.) and a room with two full beds, plus baths. The sofa was "pull-out," too, so the place could sleep eight.
I didn't go to any park--I've been to Disney World three times and, though I'd rather go again than hang by my thumbs for three days...ugh!. We spent time at the pool and, most enjoyably, hanging out with sibs, nieces, nephews, and great and great-great ones.
On Saturday, her children arranged a big surprise party for Helen's eightieth birthday. It looked to be at least fifty people there and all but a handful were her direct descendants; lots of kids and lots of presents, food, and fun. Helen's great-niece, Becky, danced in the Irish manner and a big group of us did a "flash mob" routine directed toward Helen, to a song I don't recall, but it was surely complimentary. In addition, there was a cookie contest, which this family holds every year. I entered with my "chocolate delights"; they didn't win, but surprisingly, got a fair number of votes.
On Sunday, Larry and Helen's son-in-law, Vic, who's a doctor and also very religious, arranged for a French priest friend of his to say mass right in our apartment. Father Joseph was born in Paris, is black and is a highly accomplished musician (plays five instruments), as well as an excellent linguist (speaks three languages fluently).
He said mass, which almost all those there attended, including me. I was surprised later when Larry remarked he thought I'd just leave. But of course not; infidel that I am, I found it quite interesting and it sure beat anything on television.
Father Joseph was selling books, which Doctor Vic underwrote at eighteen bucks a pop and I acquired one, thinking it was his autobiography, in which I'd be very interested. Alas, it's a collection of inspirational essays, about the bottom on my list of wanna reads.
The good padre was also selling huge and heavy, framed pictures in a kind of worked metal, which depict Pope Paul, Jesus, and Michael the Archangel. They were three hundred dollars each and Vic bought the Pope one for Helen as a birthday gift.
I met Helen's niece, Cary B., who lives in Manhattan and used to be Martha Stewart's producer. She now does a lot of other artsy stuff, including a new book blog and review, which I want to look into when I have a chance.
Went in the pool--a fun one with a big pirate ship into which the kiddies could climb, then slide into the pool. However, it was cool throughout our stay; I dipped into the pool just once, then enjoyed he hot tub.
We packed up and left Kissimmee on Monday, after a great time and bringing lots of leftovers. Betty left early yesterday morning and I spent the rest of the day taking a walk through the park with Larry, chatting with him and Helen, and packing up my usual more-than-enough stuff.
Got to Ft. Lauderdale in plenty of time, but it took an age before being released to get on the plane. After enduring the outrages to which free American citizens are now subjected--being pushed and shoved and manhandled and treated like serial killers--I finally escaped, waited around, then off we went.
Marla and Gwen picked me up and got me home. It was almost midnight, but I still had my popcorn and wine, then fell into my own bed. I was awakened by a phone call, but it was after 11, so that was all right.
Now here I am, and I'll be taking off for a trip to which I'm looking forward even more than the last.
Here we are at Helen's surprise party. Helen and Larry are in the middle and I'm seated second to right with niece Jeanne. We had a ball!
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