Ever since I read “The Idea of Order at Key West” by Wallace Stevens, I’ve wanted to visit Key West. This desire only increased when I read later that Stevens a) quarreled drunkenly there with Robert Frost in February of 1935, and b) broke his hand there on Ernest Hemingway’s jaw in 1936. Thus, this past week was basically a dream come true–the end of the rainbow, if you will: 
And speaking of Hemingway, here he is with Martin…
…and here I am with our 33rd President, Harry S. Truman, who also loved Key West so much that he spent 175 days of his presidency there: 
Lots of non-literary, non-presidential individuals also love Key West, and it’s not hard to come up with compelling reasons why, including, but not limited to: chickens roaming freely about the streets (left over, we were told, from the days when cock fighting was legal; thankfully, now there is a $500 fine for harassing a chicken)… 
…the sunset, which everyone everyone everyone tries to photograph… 
…and polydactyl cats…
Let’s get a closer look at that superfluous digit: 
Forty-four of these cats roam the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum, but, sadly, you are under no circumstances permitted to pick them up: 
Thanks, Wallace Stevens, for calling my attention to a pretty amazing place. And thanks, Hemingway, for having a thing for adorable cats with six toes.