In Sarasota, every day started about the same. The little rooster in my bedroom awoke just before 7am and began shuffling around the pack n'play; scratching at the netting and making little wake-up noises, until she would finally stand up, spot me lying there peacefully, and exclaim "HI!" in a voice that was crisp, clear, and unmistakeably Hopester. I'd drag myself out of bed, hoist her into the air, plop her on the bed, change her diaper, and send her out to "Find Grandpa." Off she'd go, staggering down the hall, arms waving, looking for her new best friend. Back to bed, I'd go, happy to sleep in for another hour while the two of them fed birds, hunted for tangerines, and enjoyed their breakfasts, some of the time with Grandmama, who would also be unable to resist the charms of the morning Hopester.
After breakfast, perhaps a walk down the street to the "cove" - a park and small inlet onto Sarasota bay that was once relatively barren but is now nicely landscaped and populated by neighbors, dogs, various sea birds, and flocks of wild parrots. The neighborhood looks much the same as it did when we were growing up, minus the occasional Florida McMansion, and the myriad For Sale signs. It always seemed to me there had been more permanent residents back in the 80's. Ours is the only street without one sign out on the lawn, save for the empty lot ("price reduced") with a nice stand of pines and native trees. The future Grandpapa B Nature Preserve, maybe?
A nap around Noon for nearly two hours (sometimes not just for Hope but for Mommy and gMama too), and we'd be refreshed enough for an afternoon of drawing, playing in the water bucket, exploring some Sarasota sights, or going to the beach.
With Daddy joining us but having to still work every day, we did our best to stay out of his hair. It wasn't hard. In fact, we kept ourselves so busy we didn't even end up making it to Jungle Gardens, just down the street. A visit from gMama's brother, gUncle George and our gAunt Shelley was a great surprise, although as always too short. But there was no denying how nice it felt to be together as a family, for a nice long time, whatever the reason.
In Sarasota, every day started about the same. The little rooster in my bedroom awoke just before 7am and began shuffling around the pack n'play; scratching at the netting and making little wake-up noises, until she would finally stand up, spot me lying there peacefully, and exclaim "HI!" in a voice that was crisp, clear, and unmistakeably Hopester. I'd drag myself out of bed, hoist her into the air, plop her on the bed, change her diaper, and send her out to "Find Grandpa." Off she'd go, staggering down the hall, arms waving, looking for her new best friend. Back to bed, I'd go, happy to sleep in for another hour while the two of them fed birds, hunted for tangerines, and enjoyed their breakfasts, some of the time with Grandmama, who would also be unable to resist the charms of the morning Hopester.
After breakfast, perhaps a walk down the street to the "cove" - a park and small inlet onto Sarasota bay that was once relatively barren but is now nicely landscaped and populated by neighbors, dogs, various sea birds, and flocks of wild parrots. The neighborhood looks much the same as it did when we were growing up, minus the occasional Florida McMansion, and the myriad For Sale signs. It always seemed to me there had been more permanent residents back in the 80's. Ours is the only street without one sign out on the lawn, save for the empty lot ("price reduced") with a nice stand of pines and native trees. The future Grandpapa B Nature Preserve, maybe?
A nap around Noon for nearly two hours (sometimes not just for Hope but for Mommy and gMama too), and we'd be refreshed enough for an afternoon of drawing, playing in the water bucket, exploring some Sarasota sights, or going to the beach.
With Daddy joining us but having to still work every day, we did our best to stay out of his hair. It wasn't hard. In fact, we kept ourselves so busy we didn't even end up making it to Jungle Gardens, just down the street. A visit from gMama's brother, gUncle George and our gAunt Shelley was a great surprise, although as always too short. But there was no denying how nice it felt to be together as a family, for a nice long time, whatever the reason.
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