No Children, No Pets

We are renting a small furnished one-bedroom apartment in St. Pete a few blocks from the house we are remodeling. There are about 8 units in two one story buildings that face out onto a small center brick courtyard landscaped with palms and tropical plants. We stayed here last year for a few months when we were working on plans and permitting. From the first time I saw the apartment and the complex there was something familiar about it, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was familiar. Why did it seem I’d been here before?

This week when we were unloading I heard the palms rustle in a stiff wind. And with the rush of the wind, it came to me: ‘no children, no pets’ by Marion Holland, one of my most favorite books from childhood. A peach colored book that I still have nestled on my “favorite” books shelf at home. I don’t remember the whole story but what I do remember is a young boy moving to Florida from somewhere decidedly not Florida and moving into a small “florida” apartment. There is a hurricane and colorful neighbors. It’s the story of the hurricane that I remember…and the sound of the winds through the palms. For years I suspect that book was the only thing I knew about Florida. And now I’m moving to Florida and staying (for now) in a little Florida apartment.