Page 8 of Chasing Sunsets

Tabby

After finishing the community garden, I spent the next few days enhancing the campground entrance with new landscaping stones, mulch, and flowers. I borrowed Freda’s laptop to research plants that thrive at the beach and discovered that lavender, lantana, coreopsis, and hydrangeas were excellent options. I decided to use a combination of purples and yellows to brighten the front of the park and highlight the signage with a pop of pink from beach roses. Additionally, I purchased marigolds to plant in and around the raised garden beds, as they are edible and serve as a natural pesticide.

I’ve recently become very interested in edible wildflowers. They’re relatively inexpensive to grow, and they can be both flavorful and nutritious. Pete refers to them as “hippie food,” but Freda is much more open to trying new things, especially when it comes to improving Pete’s diet. He typically eats meat, potatoes, gravy, and bread, but Freda is concerned about his high blood pressure and heart health. She even asked me to harvest some stinging nettles so she could boil them and add them to her homemade beef soup to help alleviate his arthritis symptoms.

Pete steps out of the park’s office, which is attached to their house by a covered carport, and inspects the progress.

“I like it,” he declares as he takes in the scene. “It’s much better than the old, overgrown dune grass that was there before.”

My chest swells with pride. It’s important to me to contribute and not take their kindness and generosity for granted. I spend my days tending to the garden, cleaning the common areas, sweeping the bonfire pit, and disposing of the ashes. I also clean the shared charcoal grills. In the evenings, I manage the main office a couple of nights a week until closing hours. I check in new guests, collect rent, and show newcomers all the available amenities so that Pete and Freda can relax after dinner.

In my free time, I’ve been working on various art projects and selling them at the Tuesday morning farmers market at Veterans Park.

I minored in art at Northwestern University. I had wanted to major in it, but my parents would never have approved.

This is how I’ve paid my monthly site rent and covered a few groceries each week. I’ve also arranged a swap with a couple of local farmers—I provide them with fresh tomatoes, and in return, they give me farm-fresh eggs and homemade sourdough bread. As a result, I’ve been living off egg sandwiches and salads. Additionally, I’ve taken up crocheting, and Freda has been teaching me and giving me lessons on alterations and embroidery, using her old Singer sewing machine.

When I’m not working at the campground, painting, or learning a new skill, I enjoy spending my time at the beach. I love swimming, relaxing in the sun, and searching for shells.

It’s a simple lifestyle, one that I’m enjoying immensely.

“After I finish planting these last rose bushes, I think I’m going to town to buy some paint,” I tell him.

“You taking the bike?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’m going to skate.”

Indigo bought us both a pair of inline skates, claiming they were a great way to get around the Keys. However, we never had the chance to use them. Last week at the farmers market, I sold his skates, which were still new in the box, for a hundred dollars—far less than what he’d originally paid. I figured he owed me since he had taken off with all my money.

“Can you walk around a store in those?” he asks.

“Yes, I tried them out yesterday. I can balance pretty well while walking in them, as long as I’m careful. I’m also using the sack backpack that Freda and I crocheted to carry my purchases home.”

Pete smiles. “You’re a resourceful young lady, Tabby.”

One thing I’ve learned is that you don’t need much to survive—food, water, a roof over your head, a few outfits, and some money to cover it all. Everything else is just excess. People work tirelessly for this stuff, often at the expense of their time with their loved ones. They sacrifice their health and time just to keep up with the Joneses.

I finish my planting and clean up before strapping on my skates and heading out to the craft store.

I return from my shopping excursion with a bag full of acrylic paint, some colorful glass beads, and a roll of fishing line. I plan to use some of the driftwood I collected to make wind chimes for this week’s market.

Eager to get started, I take a vinyl tablecloth out to one of the picnic tables and set up my workspace. First, I fill a large bowl with dish detergent and use an old toothbrush to scrub some ofthe seashells I’ve been collecting from my early morning walks at The Point. Next, I use a thin brush to paint designs on the shells, following their natural pattern. While they dry, I measure and cut the fishing line, tying one end around a piece of driftwood. Then, I use Pete’s small hand drill to create a hole in the top of each shell. I carefully thread the shells onto the string, followed by a glass bead, and tie a knot to secure each one in place. Finally, using a hot glue gun, I attach a satin ribbon to the top for hanging.

I lift the finished product into the breeze, which creates a melodious sound as the shells and beads clink together.

Satisfied, I walk the wind chime over to Pete and Freda’s house and knock on the door. Freda answers, and I present her with the gift.

“What’s this?” she asks, taking the colorful offering.

“It’s a wind chime. I’m making them to sell at the farmers market, but I wanted you to have the first one,” I reply.

“Oh, I love it. Thank you,” she says. “Come in. I have someone I want you to meet.”

She steps aside so I can walk in, and then she leads me to her kitchen. A lady with silver hair and a kind smile is seated at the table with a mug and slice of Freda’s walnut coffee cake.

“Tabby, this is my friend Sabel Hollister. She and I attend the same church and are both members of the Sandcastle Cove Heritage Society. Sabel, this is the young woman I was telling you about. She’s been with us since the spring, and it’s been a blessing to have her around,” Freda introduces.

“Hello, Tabby. It’s nice to meet you. Please join us,” Sabel urges.

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