At the Beach Again

After a pleasant nine months in Miami, we packed up and returned to Sarasota. We rented a house on Siesta Key’s long, lovely beach and returned to the informal life we once had known.

From letter dated January 19, 1958

I’ve been in quite a rush since I got back from Mother’s funeral last November. Some of our closest friends from Atlanta had planned for months to come down here for Thanksgiving and, after hesitating for a bit when they heard the sad news, they decided to come anyway, arriving the day after I got back from Michigan. They rented the house next door, so I didn’t have any burden, but it made a very busy week. Actually, I think it was the best thing that could have happened because they realized how I was feeling and it was very comforting to have close friends here.

Once they left, I got busy on my Christmas shopping and mailing. As you know, Dad was with us for Christmas and my birthday.

Of course, I had left my housework pretty much to itself, so I had a major job getting ready for Dad’s visit. This little old cottage is in a heavenly location right on the Gulf, but it is old and shabby, and dirt seems to come out of the walls or blow in from the beach as fast as I sweep it away.