Ouch. Leaving your flip flops out in the midday, Floridian sun whilst you go snorkelling causes the metal stud in the middle to get very, very hot. I have just had my feet branded by Birkenstock and it bloody hurts. We shouldn’t do this sort of thing to moo cows.

The above is the most challenging thing that has happened to me so far today. I have turned into a sleepwalking islander with a mushy head. Every-t-h-i-n-g is so much effort. Standing up makes me sigh. Unless I can see a margarita at the end of it.

So, I am currently in Key West having travelled along US 1 stopping along the way at little places and inlets and stuff like that. It’s arduous. I was going to get a red soft top Mustang for this trip but then noticed that everyone was doing that or a Harley so I went for a big, air conditioned Chevy SUV because sometimes I can be very sensible. The monster truck with enough halogen lights to blind a city had already been reserved.

Life for me at the moment, on my cowgirl hiatus, is pretty slow and very hot and I am at the stage where I barely know the time never mind which day it is. I feel a little out of control in that respect which I don’t like but appreciate must be beneficial. After a few more days I may become restless with island life and need more structure but that’s OK as I return back home to Texas mid next week before I go on other junkets.

On a side note, I realised today that men with bald heads look better in shorts than they do in long trousers. I think it’s the balance of bare skin that makes it visually better. This is the sort of benign triviality that besieges my island mind. I know. But trust me, the fact remains.

What I like about The keys and Key West are the following:

1: It’s very easy going and chilled out. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you’re from and what age. Everyone from families, to hairy bikers, to party goers and shell collectors all mingle together like one happy hippy commune. That’s nice.

2: It’s artsy and eclectic which appeals to me. I like seeing people sell their arty wares or busk near the sea. I like the mismatched, pastel clapboard houses and brightly coloured signs.

3: There is live music at pretty much every bar which is great – from guitarists to real life roosters cock-a-doodling all over the place.

4: I can WALK to places.

5: The sea is a beautiful, warm turquoise and I am in love with it.

…..Just back from Hemingway’s house. Now you all know about Hemingway so I’m just going to point out some irrelevant or other bits here:

This is a very nice, big house which just goes to show that there IS money in writing…

“There is no friend as loyal as a book.”

It’s a hard life being a writer..

Now this is where I started to see a connection between Ernest and myself..

Turns out, Mr.H was, in fact, also an ‘Art Philosopher’ like me.  How about that.  Now, I appreciate the irony here since the picture above is crap because I forgot to charge the battery in my DSLR or bring a spare ~~~Island mind fog~~~ and had to take these with my iPhone in dim light with horrid reflections.

Again, how similar we are.  I am poise personified. 

He liked reading short stories.  Me too; I’m all about the short story.  And, with a Western feel.  Yee ‘Flippin’ Haaw.  I quite fancy reading the above Steinbeck collection  if someone cares to buy it me for Christmas as I’m liable to forget.

And now I KNOW that me ‘n’ Hem are soul twins..

Wise words.  Some of what I know should NEVER be written.

See, I don’t think that 500-700 words is a lot.  Especially in six hours!  Ok, so there wasn’t any air-con and he had to use a typewriter and stop for a mojito but come on… We can all do that, write? Island block…

His writing studio. That’s what I need. Near a beach, just the same.  Yep.

Now you can watch my “Taste of The Keys” video right at the end of this should you wish to see how hard I’m working.

Laters, my lil’ taters.

PS: I’ve had to write this from my phone because I seem to be banned from my own website from my laptop. I am not responsible if the layout is bad on a full screen. I don’t know what’s going on but know this: I hope my efforts are appreciated and my sacrifices noted. Writing from a phone really hurts my eyes in this sunshine. C’est la vie <~~~ see how much of an islander I’m becoming? Excuse me whilst I go and get my cowgirl bewwwts back on…