Fun, Food, and the Fabulous in Fort Lauderdale



Fort Lauderdale is known as “The Venice of America” because it has over three hundred miles of navigable canals that are part of the intracoastal waterway.  Prior to our recent visit, I had read about the system and was curious about it.  A local travel agent told me that we could take a water taxi and get a great tour of the area.  So on our last full day in Fort Lauderdale, we hopped aboard.  An adult unlimited pass is $22.00 and a child’s unlimited pass is $13.00.  This allows you to get on and off as many times as you want in one day.  Our plan was to ride from the marina near our hotel and get off at Las Olas Boulevard to have lunch and do a little shopping, the climb on again for the ride back.

Well, it was quite a tour!  Each boat has a captain who drives and a narrator who speaks over the intercom system, telling stories and a history lesson along the way.  Ours was quite entertaining and engaged the passengers, making it a really fun way to get from one point to another. 

The homes along the intracoastal, are the homes of the wealthy.  Some were the homes of  celebrities and others belonged to business moguls, homes bought and sold for millions. 

Here are just a few . . .

This sprawling estate goes on to include a dozen buildings, each aquired as they were sold by neighbors.

Kind of a White House on the water.

Note the sculpture on the lawn . . a fortune cookie.  This is the property of the P.F Chang dynasty. 

The million dollar mermaid fountain.

The oh so casual outdoor bar and hot tub.

The whimiscal dancing frogs at water's edge.

This little number belonged to Sonny & Cher when Chastity was born. 
The story was told that the neighbor on one side was the inventor of Alka Selter and on the other side the Seagram's heirs, so everyone could have drinks and music and be medicated in the morning. 

Along with the waterfront living comes the need for suitable transportation.  I don’t imagine you could like in places like these and ride around in a pontoon boat.  No . . .

You need a yacht. 

This one belongs to the Yankee Candle folks.  It's named "Parafin".  How cute. 

In some cases, a megayacht. 

Supermodel Elle MacPherson's little boat.

The 78 million dollar yacht belonging to Judge Judy.

Steven Spielberg's 235 million dollar yacht. 

We got off the water taxi at Las Olas Boulevard.  I had read about the district famous for unique shopping.  But we were hungry for lunch and were thrilled to see a restaurant that specialized in crepes.  We love crepes!  My French Canadian Memere made some awesome crepes, but they were simple, and we ate them with brown sugar and maple syrup.  The crepes at La Bonne Crepe on Las Olas, were anything but simple.  An incredible selection of stuffings and toppings was on the menu.  My daughter ordered the banana split crepe and I went savory with the tomato and basil crepe.  They were delicious and reasonably priced.

Banana Split crepe

Tomato, basil, crisp crepe . . delicious!

For dessert, as if a banana split crepe calls for dessert, we had gelato from the Italian bakery Pane’ Dolci.  Smooth and creamy and cold, we stood outside in the sunshine to eat it. 

My salted caramel gelato

Gelato like artwork in the cooler.

We stopped in a few shops but quickly found that Las Olas shopping was not meant for people on a budget.  At one store I picked up a cute pink tee shirt, held it up to show my daughter and quickly put it back when I saw the price tag; $98.00.  For . . . a  . . . tee . . . shirt.  Gulp. 

 

Soon we found the way back to the water taxi stop and sat in the grass while we waited.  Late afternoon sun streaked across the water as the yellow boat pulled up to the dock.  Again we saw the yachts and homes and heard the stories about Sonny & Cher and the inventor of Alka Selter.  Again we passed Spielburg’s yacht.  Finally back to the dock near our hotel and I was exhausted from the walking and shooting and eating and from the feelings of frustration that arise from the thoughts of equity and social justice . . and living a life of limitation. 

While I enjoyed, in a voyeuristic sense, this glimpse into the lives of the rich, famous, lucky, and ostentatious, it certainly brought to mind the huge gap in our society between these homeowners and the homeowners in my little middle class neighborhood in Maine, and even more when you consider how many people struggle to keep the roof they live under.  It prompted questions about the curious connection between celebrity and wealth.  Why does that job – acting in movies, for example, pay so much more than another job?  What is our pay scale based on?  It can’t be based on the value of the contribution to the general good, or the importance in a human sense of the job’s end result.  Why in the world does Judge Judy make 45 million dollars a year, making her able to afford a yacht that costs 78 million dollars?  Why is her job – a television judge – more valued than the job of a drug and alcohol counselor who helps people get clean and sober?  Why does that counselor have to settle for the low pay when there is such unfathomable wealth in other sectors? 

I haven’t involved myself in the 99% vs. 1% fight that’s going on out there in the country, but if there was any time I’ve felt fired up about the discrepancies in income it was after that water taxi ride and the exposure I had to that other side of the golden coin.

When I step back into my cozy little home with my family and take a moment to appreciate the wonderful life I have, I can’t see where a big house on the water could make this any better.  I don’t see where a yacht fits into the picture. 

Ok . .  maybe a small one could be worked in right over . . . there.     

Appreciate the simple things . . .

LIFE on Life’s terms: Living in the moment or “Seas the Day”

Like many people, I struggle with the bucolic concept of living in the moment.  My daily planner is planned out months in advance.  Each week I plot out my goals for the week, my appointments, and my dinner menu.  There are very few moments that I’m not at least partly considering the next moment rather than the one I’m in.  Perhaps I’m the oddball, but I suspect that this is pretty common amongst people today.  Everything is about what’s next. 

Living in the moment . . . what does it mean?  Is it akin to so many other phrases that denote the need for appreciation for what you have or what you are or who you are at any given time? 

Is it a reminder that “life is short” so “seize the day” but don’t forget to “stop and smell the roses?” 

Those expressions wouldn’t have gained overuse prominence if there weren’t truth to them. 

This is what has prompted my little life appreciation lesson.  I was fortunate enough to “have” to go to Fort Lauderdale for my work.  Leaving Maine in March to go somewhere warm and sunny is something I dream of every January. 

This trip came up fast and took a lot of work to pull together.  With a little help from some hotel points and a supportive spouse, I was able to extend the trip two extra days and bring my daughter with me.  We had a wonderful, sunshine filled, causal couple of days. 

The evening before our 8:00 am flight home, after touring around on a water taxi and seeing the yachts and mansions of the rich and famous, we took a walk on the beach before dinner.  Always prepared, we both were wearing our bathing suits and decided to take a swim.  The water was warm, easy to get into and the waves were just raucous enough to be fun.  We have beautiful beaches in Maine but the water rarely reaches above sixty degrees and swimming in it is, well, numbingly uncomfortable for me at this age. 

We splashed and bobbed and floated for two hours.  It was getting dark and we hadn’t had dinner yet.  The guys who worked for the hotel were clearing the beach, stacking lounge chairs and picking up towels.  I felt that pull of responsibility and got out of the water to dry off.  My daughter protested and made a case for staying in, claiming she’d only rinse off in the pool rather than swim for another hour once we left the beach (she lied). 

So I gathered up our things and sat in the sand with my camera.  Watching her jump and flip around in the waves made me curiously sentimental for days when I had nothing to worry about, nothing to plan or prepare for.  Truthfully, I can’t even remember feeling like that although I must have as a child.  We had seen a boat earlier in the day that was named “Seas the Day” and I loved the play on words with one of my favorite sayings.  It was a struggle for me to just sit in the warm sand, digging my feet in, shooting the beach and waves and my sweet little daughter just playing in the ocean. 

I have returned home.  I’ve thought about those moments quite a few times, that churning in my stomach, a gnawing feeling that I should be doing something else (like packing for our early departure).  For me, recently diagnosed with ADD, I wonder if it is that “driven” feeling that is a symptom of the disorder.  Or is it’s a byproduct of a busy life?  Perhaps my Catholic school guilt which says that I shouldn’t stop and enjoy myself, that I must always be productive.  I don’t know for sure why I feel the way I do about it but I know I’m on a quest to practice more mindful behavior.  Allow myself to take pleasure in the small, wonderful things about my life, like being able to type this post with one of my cats just over my shoulder and the other nestled on the desk in front of me. 

And I will sit in the sand and watch my daughter play in the sea.  I will live in the moment, even if it’s just for a moment.  This moment. 

New Year New Ideas New Life

A friend of mine gave me this sign as a gift and I just love it.  I’ve always been a fan of New Year, almost more than of Christmas.  While I realize that I’m writing this seven days into this new year, it’s not for lack of the new ideas and other new things I’ve experienced and begun to execute in the past seven days. 

Our Christmas this was year one of new technology (a Kindle Fire for me and an iPad 2 for my daughter – hooray!).  Of course that brings with it a learning curve, and since I love learning new things, it was a great opportunity to dive right in.  I downloaded my first two book that very night. 

Our Christmas vacation, the first of its kind for us, was lazy-lounging-foody-restful and actually made me anxious to go back to work in a way.  Other than entertaining my sister and her boyfriend on New Year’s Eve and staying up past midnight (I think this was a first for my asleep-on-the-couch-by-8:30 husband) and one big event I’ll get to in a minute, it was a Christmas vacation of gluttony and sloth.  I loved it. 

In a recent post I mentioned that our cat, Ocho, who was 4 ½ years old, was hit by a car and died.  It happened just before Thanksgiving.  We all cried about this.  He was a huge member of the family and we missed him like crazy.  After some time had passed, I began to think about a new cat.  We missed having that life in the house, someone to greet you when you got home, someone to race up the stairs after coming in from the rain and jump on you in bed – with a mouse in his mouth.  Now that’s love. 

So the big event I mentioned before is that after I had mourned the death of our beloved Ocho, and as part of the healing process, I believe, I began to research Maine Coon Cat breeders in the state.  Although Ocho was a stray, we fiercely believe that he was part Maine coon.  His personality, that more of a dog in a cat’s body, his desire to “help” with everything we did, his “hanging out” with us around the house, was not typical cat, but it was typical Maine Coon behavior.  They’re even known to retain their “clowny” kitten playfulness throughout their lives. 

So to honor the first, we got two.  A male and a female.  The male was what we sought out and the female was just too pretty to not take her.  Her name is Belle and his name has yet to be decided.  I gave my daughter the naming rights on the girl and she’s been studying French and was looking for something that meant “pretty” so “Belle.  The naming rights for the boy go to my husband, for whom this was a surprise.  He hasn’t made the call yet.  Now we have these two little beings in our lives.  Fuzzy, rambunctious, purring little beings. 

On to the new ideas section of this post; these are some of the goals I wish to accomplish this year:

1. Develop a new website for my photography work – one that targets a more commercial, more fine art market to sell my work on a larger scale.
2. Learn how to create mixed media art using my photography, collage material, paint, whatever is on hand and works, and bring my artistic development up a notch.
3. Create a cohesive, intentional marketing effort to get my work out there. 
4. Get back in shape and feel better about myself – yeah, I know, everyone does this at this time of year – but I mean it . . .
5. Make this a year of art shows and person to person sales.
6. Put more effort into my Etsy and Ebay outlets to sell my work. 
7. Go to 7 places I’ve never been; 3 outside of the state of Maine.
8. Publish an article – in print – and get paid for it.
9. Create an email marketing plan and write regular newsletters.
10. Invest in new equipment, mainly upgrade my computer, but also consider getting a new lens and perhaps an iPad for presentational purposes.

To this goal, I like to create some incentives, something I can go back to to be inspired to move on, to refresh my brain.  I like doing collages.  I clip inspirational sayings, words, photos from all kinds of sources and create a spread that highlights the direction I want to move.  Earlier this year I did one with words that flowed from the present space I was in into the end result I was hoping for.  Recently, with the new year, I did one with the words and images of the goals I have for the year.  The above photo and below are some of the parts. 

Check back here often;  I will continue to post examples of this and the other work I’m doing as well as updates on how these kittens are faring in our home.  By the looks of them in this photo, they’re doing pretty well so far.  

If you want to be happy, be.

This quote was in a newsletter I got yesterday.  It was attributed to Leo Tolstoy.  A short little sentence it is, but oh the power it assumes.  As I read it and thought about it, I could almost feel the happiness roll over me. 

If you want to be happy, you can be happy.  Why is it that we tend to give away to others the power of our own happiness?  By that I mean the self defeating statements that I know I’m guilty of enunciating like “I’ll be happy when  . . . we can buy a bigger house . . . this winter is over . . . fill in the blank.”  It could be anything on which you hinge happiness. 

 So, stop waiting ... 
Until your car or home is paid off. 
Until you get a new car or home. 
Until your kids leave the house. 
Until you go back to school. 
Until you finish school. 
Until you lose 10 lbs. 
Until you gain 10 lbs. 
Until you get married. 
Until you get a divorce. 
Until you have kids. 
Until you retire. 
Until summer.. 
Until spring. 
Until winter. 
Until fall. 
Until you die. There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So work like you don't need money, love like you've never been hurt, 
and, dance like no one's watching. 

If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges.  It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with ... and remember that time waits for no one. 

I recall a story that was emailed to me a few years back.  A man’s wife had just died and he was preparing the outfit in which she would be buried.  In her closet he comes across several brand new outfits, lovely ones, still with tags on them.  She had been saving them for something, some special time, not thinking that the day may never come.  Feel good and be happy now.  Why had she not enjoyed the new clothes and the way they felt against her skin or the way the color set off her eyes?  Why wait?

Okay so as we roll into another year, I’m going to post this little quote on the top of my day planner.  I will write it in random places in my calendar to remind me that I don’t need a reason or have to wait to be happy.  My life is good today. 

Merry Christmas all!

The NEXT 45 Years

Yesterday was my 45th birthday. The weather was hot and the sky was blue, a near perfect spring day here at home. Had I been able to select the weather, I would have picked just that kind of day. As time passed through the day, I received many great birthday wishes via Facebook. My husband and daughter took me out for dinner then had a little celebration at home with the requisite cake and candles. It was a nice day.




So that makes today Day # 1 of the next 45 years of my life. Perhaps that implies that this is what I have determined to be the halfway point and to be honest, I’m shooting for 100 years, but just for the sake of conversation, let’s say that this is the start of the balance of the time I have to spend on this planet. I do hope that I am so lucky as to make it that far. With that thought in mind, I have been thinking about what I want to accomplish and experience in the NEXT 45 years of my life.



I started a list. Did someone refer to this as a “bucket list?” As I got into the list, I found that I had specific things, like learn how to make a kick ass salsa and ride Kingda Ka, and I had more general things like travel around for a year in an RV and stay strong.

I'm short on time to post today.  I think I will start a list here on this blog of the things I plan to experience during my next 45 years.  I would love to hear your ideas and dreams about what you want to accomplish in the next five, ten, twenty or even forty five years.  Please comment and inspire!

Recovery topic: Missing out?

“Do you feel like you’ve missed out?” The question was raised at a meeting last week. When directed at me, I replied as honestly as I could and said that no, I feel like sobriety has given me more than I feel that I’ve missed. I’ve been thinking about the question, and its resulting conversation and my response since then. Does the fact that I cannot safely drink alcohol mean that I miss out on the things in life that I would otherwise enjoy?

Tomorrow is my 45th birthday.  I spent my 40th birthday in rehab. I had just reached 30 days sobriety. Joe had been sending me cards and letters, but we were not yet a couple. One of the girls and I had spent the afternoon in the house kitchen making me a birthday cake, orange chiffon. They all made me a huge birthday card and wrote the requisite congratulations and birthday wishes. Not long after that birthday, I “graduated” from the program. The months after are filled with good things like falling in love with my friend, Joe and some bad things like relapse and disappointment. I was on the edge of life, wanting so desperately to be “normal” and be able to drink and party like I had been. The other side of that edge was I life I could barely see, but was at its beginnings. It gleamed on the horizon. If I squinted hard enough I could see a life of calm, an end to chaos and fear, days filled with what the “real” world considers “normal,” like taking my kid to school and making dinner for my family and being loved more than I could imagine and actually believing that I was worthy of that life and love.

Here I sit five years later with no question in my mind that I am worthy and deserve what I have. Do I think I’ve missed out on anything because I couldn’t drink through the last five years? Would my life have been better if I could have had beers at the barbeques that I have been to? Or pina coladas in the Caribbean? Or champagne at my own wedding? I honestly doubt that it would have enhanced any of the experiences I’ve had. In fact, when I really examine how it had been, the reality of it is that it’s unlikely I would have been invited to the barbeques. Nor would I have gone to the Caribbean. Getting married would not have happened either. If I had continued to drink as I had been, there’s a question as to whether I would have even made it to this day alive. I feel quite certain that Nola would not be living with me. I know for a fact that Joe would not. My parents were nearing the point that they couldn’t deal with me. The friends I had at the time, the few that were left, had grown tired of my antics and drama.

As to the question of whether or not I’ve missed out, I add – Missed out on what?



Okay – yeah I missed out. I missed out on going to court and losing custody of my daughter because it would have been unsafe for her to be left in my care. I missed out on getting caught driving while intoxicated because “I was fine”. I missed out on who knows how many fights with my ex-husband about who knows what because active alcoholism requires drama and self loathing and being a victim. I missed out on the loneliness and desperation. I missed out on a lot of crying. I missed out on having to apologize to people after having drunk dialed them, and then remembered it in the morning. I missed out on all the cringing and wondering exactly what I had done and said. I missed out on crashing my car and hurting myself or another person. I missed out on missing Joe after he had had enough of me. I missed out on staying in that crappy apartment and struggling to get through every day. Yes, I guess I missed out on a lot.

So as I round the corner into forty five years on this planet my worries and concerns face forward. I am not mired in regret. What did happen happened and not one tear is going to change anything. What did happen is that I got sober. That triggered a series of events that have made my life as wonderful as it is now. The amazing gift of balance and serenity has seeped into all other areas of my life. My wonderful daughter has the mom she needs, who can support her and love her and laugh with her. My husband has a wife who can truly be a partner as well as a friend and lover and a fun date. My parent’s daughter emails and calls them just about daily about the little good things. Being sober allows me to be all of this and more. I’m a co-worker that others can depend on, not gossip about. No one shakes their heads and wonders when I’m out sick. I’m a photographer with a clear focus not only on the business I’m building, but on the images I create and the image I cultivate. I’ve got gifts I couldn’t have imagined that day in rehab five years ago. I’ve done things I hadn’t even dreamed about. I have possibilities and determination, and no reason to believe that I can’t achieve whatever it is that I want.

The fear of “missing out” on the good stuff has a counterpart in “missing out” on the bad stuff. Talk about balance.