The Scent of Good Books

I was wondering what I should wear to the Especial-Tea, so I browsed through my cyber closet and found just the thing! Since I can be a size 8 for the party, if I'd like to, this will be just perfect. I'll be looking for shoes and a hat as well. I can wear any size shoes for the occasion, so sky's the limit! So far, we are three for tea. Looking forward to seeing everyone!

Several weeks ago I ordered The Complete Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham. It is a boxed set of 2 books printed in 1953. A day or two after I placed my order, Lavinia Ladyslipper ( I love that name!) posted a picture of the same set of books as she wandered about trying to decide what to do on a rainy evening!

It is such fun to see how many of our blogger friends have similar interests. The (correct) order finally arrived yesterday from an independent dealer. They are in wonderful condition. Just a little wear on the box, as the seller advised. Although I've read many of Maugham's short stories, there are several in this set of books that I have not, and many that I have read - and will read again - several times. These are wonderful quiet evening, or rainy day books. They have that wonderful old book smell. A musty mixture of oak bookcase and city library with a hint of Earl Grey. I love the way he writes. He is often very droll. And always very English. A very traveled and observant English. You are reading along with no hint of humor and then there it is. Here is an example from a story in Volume 2 called "A Woman of Fifty":

"Laura has money, Wyman went on. "when they married she furnished the house from cellar to attic in Chicago. It's quite a show place; it's a little masterpiece of hideousness and vulgarity. I never go into the living-room without marvelling at the unerring taste with which she picked out exactly what you'd expect to find in the bridal suite of a second-class hotel in Atlantic City."

Love it.

Although my horoscope said I would run into several unusual people today, I did not. I was really counting on that so I could tell you all about them. Instead, I will leave you with my poem about weekends:

Conflict of Interests

It is difficult to write poetry
On weekends on Florida
House guests sleep soundly
In rooms scattered with sun-block and swimsuits

Their children issue forth, clear-eyed at dawn
Hungry
Not for the words I attempt to write on tranquil mornings,
But for ALPA-BITS poured into a bowl
In no particular order

My dog, until now
A puddle at my feet rises
Ready to lap up fallen vowels and consonants

Soon children are perched all about me
Eating upper case letters punctuated with sliced bananas
And sipping milk from bright plastic mugs
While unwritten verses slip away
Like hummingbirds from my garden

The fleeting dawn turns into day
Illuminating the lanai in prosaic disarray
Chairs strewn about to catch yesterday’s rays
Tabletops brimming
Pool in need of skimming
Damp towels smother the last of my musings
And turn my thoughts to the practical


Cynthia Ann Conciatu 1996

1997 Welaka Humorous Verse Award,
Florida State Poets Association

It Pays to Complain

Picture: Tampa Theatre


It's a miracle. Maybe. I took my complaint about Suspender Man Denis and Suits-are-bad Linda to ABC Action news. I wrote a very polite note asking that they PLEASE MOVE OVER instead of standing directly in front of Pinellas County during their weather reports. I did not get a reply. However, last night at 6:00 and 11:00 Denis was standing in the Gulf of Mexico, leaving Pinellas in view for the local folk to actually see for a change. He seemed a bit distracted, so he may have been having an off day. Chances are that he got the message. I'll report back after a few more weather reports to let you know if it's just a fluke.

I have gotten a few things corrected by writing or calling to state the obvious. Once I encouraged the County to move 50 Bob's Barricades off of Starkey Road. The road warriors finished their work but left the barricades. I continued to sit in the turn lane each day for 10 to 15 light changes. For nothing. I called. They said they were still working daily. Pfffft. I explained that I sat there for 30 minutes every day. I memorized every stone and cigarette butt. I watched the gaseous expansion of the dead armadillo to the point of explosion. Nothing had moved. No human being had visited the area for at least a week. Next day? No Bob's barricades. Ya'll have me to thank for that.

Another change that has my name all over it: Tampa Theater has a wonderful balcony. Problem is, the stairs are various widths and heights and are not properly lit. It was scary enough trying to navigate them with two free hands, and I had somehow been rooked into going for popcorn for the Mister and his Bro. Coming back, I missed the last step - couldn't see it at all. I almost took a swan dive over the rail. Luckily the rail held. Other than a shower of popcorn on the folks below and a lovely black and blue mark I was none the worse for wear. I called. I'm not a litigious person, I merely stated the problem and asked for better lighting or reflective tape at the stair edges. Next visit: reflective tape at the stair edges. You're welcome.

If you haven't been to Tampa Theater yet, you have got to go. It's amazing. They show a wonderful summer series of old films. Go - even if you've seen the film 74 times. They also show the very best of current independent and foreign films: The Station Agent, The Painted Veil, Pieces of April played there. It's a wonderful experience. Sit in the balcony. You won't be tripping over any stairs. http://www.tampatheatre.org/

I won't be asking the Mister to do anything out of doors today. Seems his 20 year old blue knit shorts are in the laundry. He's wearing some getup that is ....well. I am beyond words. He's wearing a 30 year old turquoise t-shirt with a torn pocket and a pair of ill fitting purplish gray knit pants that have enough static electricity in them that they have kinda spun around on his legs. It is gruesome. I told him I had no choice but to tell you.

I think the dryer just stopped. I can't believe I'm happy his blue shorts are dry and ready to wear for another 35 days. Gotta go get the Mister re-outfitted. Good to see you again!