I went walking in the South Grove with my friend Ruth this morning. Now I've seen it all. The south end of the Grove is the oldest area and strictly residential. Most of the homes have been here since the 20's and they range from modest to mansions, but they are all "very Grove". You have to live in this area to understand the true meaning of that expression.
I'm used to seeing people out walking their dogs at 8 in the morning. That's a given. I'm also used to seeing gorgeous peacocks strolling around. Residents have a love/hate relationship with these magnificent creatures who are prone to dirtying up the area. But the lady walking towards us on the road this morning was an oddity even for the Grove.
On her chest was a sort of backpack, call it a frontpack, with its front panel hanging open. As we approached I could have sworn I saw a bird looking out at me.
Say hello to Pandora. She's a green parrot. No youngster, around 20 years old, and she loves her morning walk. In fact, she insists on it, according to the lady who apparently accommodates her feathered friend's every desire. We stopped to talk, had a chat with Pandora, and then walked on, shaking our heads.
That's what I mean when I say only in the Grove.
# # #
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Thursday, December 10, 2015
The art of being "appraised". . . .
I'm in the process of refinancing my condo mortgage and a young man came to my apartment this morning to "appraise" it for the bank. The guy managed to scare the hell out of my cats as he marched around the house with his giant measuring tape. I provided him with a printed floor plan of my unit, with all the room sizes, but I guess he felt he had to earn his keep by measuring everything himself.
After taking photos of all the rooms and also of the view (which even he admitted was pretty spectacular) he departed to have a chat with the manager of Grove Isle as to the state of our community The only smile I got out of him during the entire business was when he got a glimpse of Ginger, crouching on the top shelf of one of my closets. Wasabi was no where in sight.
I find this whole "refinancing" business very strange. They certainly ask a lot of personal questions including proof that I really am divorced and own this place. Jeez, that happened almost 28 years ago. Can't they take my word for it??? I guess not.
What really is strange is the fact that almost everything is done on the computer, with no actual personal interaction, except for the appraisal. I'm sure when we bought our condo and first financed it back in 1986, that definitely wasn't the case. I like to feel I'm fairly tech savvy, but in truth, sometimes I miss the old ways of doing things. How about you????
# # #
Ginger, hiding in the closet. |
I find this whole "refinancing" business very strange. They certainly ask a lot of personal questions including proof that I really am divorced and own this place. Jeez, that happened almost 28 years ago. Can't they take my word for it??? I guess not.
What really is strange is the fact that almost everything is done on the computer, with no actual personal interaction, except for the appraisal. I'm sure when we bought our condo and first financed it back in 1986, that definitely wasn't the case. I like to feel I'm fairly tech savvy, but in truth, sometimes I miss the old ways of doing things. How about you????
# # #
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
My construction fees are very reasonable. . . .
If you are thinking about building a giant trampoline, and need some expert help, give me a call. I have terrific creds in that area.
Just ask my grandson Adam, the chief engineer on our major project this past Thanksgiving weekend. It took the two of us a mere 2 1/2 hours to erect the outdoor beauty that daughter Andrea and I bought as an early Channukah present for Grayson, her grandson and my great-grandson. Adam and I agreed that the instructions that came with the outdoor structure truly sucked, but the end result was fantastic. I may not know how to cook a turkey, but if you need someone to hand you the screws and hold up the netting for the trampoline's sides, while you're working on attaching, I'm your gal.
Best of all, Grayson gave it his stamp of approval from his very first jump, with a few thousand more to follow. This gift was a definite winner, as was the entire weekend, spent in Jacksonville, at Adam and Amy's home, along with Andrea, and Adam's dad, Elliot, and his wife, Susan. Dinner was fabulous! Thank you, Amy!
Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!
# # #
Adam at work. |
Best of all, Grayson gave it his stamp of approval from his very first jump, with a few thousand more to follow. This gift was a definite winner, as was the entire weekend, spent in Jacksonville, at Adam and Amy's home, along with Andrea, and Adam's dad, Elliot, and his wife, Susan. Dinner was fabulous! Thank you, Amy!
Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Can you tell I adore him?? |
Chef Amy and her fabulous dinner |
The Anker Family |
The best kiss ever! |
Friday, November 6, 2015
A night to remember. . .
Not exactly sure how to write this blog. Mostly because I am still a little mind blown from the whole scene. Don't know if you remember that I wrote a while back that the Miami Lighthouse for The Blind, for whom I volunteer by writing a monthly blog, nominated me for one of the Alliance for Aging's "Positive Living" Awards, in the Corporate/Legal/Public Service category.
Miami Lighthouse CEO Virginia Jacko called me a few weeks ago while I was driving in my car, to tell me that I had won. I almost drove off the road.
Last night was the Awards Dinner and Ceremony held in the Tree Tops Ballroom at Jungle Island. The Lighthouse reserved a table for 10 and I was very touched to be surrounded and supported by dear friends as I joined some incredible men and women, all winners in different categories, on stage to receive a glittering (and very heavy!) cut glass trophy. It's sitting on my desk as I write. It was truly a night to remember.
Like I said in my blog when I first told you about the nomination, my Mom would have been very proud. I felt kind of proud myself.
# # #
Miami Lighthouse CEO Virginia Jacko called me a few weeks ago while I was driving in my car, to tell me that I had won. I almost drove off the road.
Last night was the Awards Dinner and Ceremony held in the Tree Tops Ballroom at Jungle Island. The Lighthouse reserved a table for 10 and I was very touched to be surrounded and supported by dear friends as I joined some incredible men and women, all winners in different categories, on stage to receive a glittering (and very heavy!) cut glass trophy. It's sitting on my desk as I write. It was truly a night to remember.
Like I said in my blog when I first told you about the nomination, my Mom would have been very proud. I felt kind of proud myself.
# # #
My tablemates at the cocktail party before the dinner. |
Sharing my trophy with Virginia, the lady who nominated me! |
Our table in the beautiful ballroom |
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Art In The Garden. . .Kid Style
Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden never ceases to amaze me. I tell visitors on my tram guides that we entertain over 150,000 school children every year, but in truth, I rarely have anything to do with them. Today was quite different.
My friend Sheila and I spent the morning at the Garden, volunteering as art mentors for school kids participating in this year's renowned Fairchild Challenge. This morning's session was the start of the Annual Art Workshop for Elementary Schools, kindergarten through 6th grade, with approximately 180 kids, from many different schools, gathered under the Garden's Gala Tent on a rainy Wednesday morning to learn about, and then draw, indigenous plants from the Florida Everglades.
Our group of youngsters were students from "The Growing Place", a unique kindergarten school run by First United Methodist Church of Coral Gables. They were led by Mari and Gaby, two remarkably kind and patient teachers, who introduced us to all the kids and helped us get them seated out in the Garden with their sketch books and colored pencils. Because it was drizzling intermittently, we chose to seat the kids by a nearby lake, close to a stand of Florida mangroves. My job was to explain about mangroves to the kids and suggest they draw the tangle of roots emerging from the water. Enough said! They immediately went to work.
Big excitement! A snapping turtle suddenly appeared in the lake, creating a momentary stopping of work. An anhinga bird, drying his wings on a branch across the lake, was another nature moment for the kids. Sheila and I had our work cut out for us, commenting on each kids drawing, suggesting, encouraging and applauding. Amazingly, for 5 and 6 year olds, some were definitely budding artists. Others did a lot of scribbling, but everyone did their best.
It was a wonderful morning. Exhausting, but inspiring. After two hours, we said goodbye to our group as they headed off to the Butterfly Garden before returning to school. Below are some of the photos I took of our group.
# # #
My friend Sheila and I spent the morning at the Garden, volunteering as art mentors for school kids participating in this year's renowned Fairchild Challenge. This morning's session was the start of the Annual Art Workshop for Elementary Schools, kindergarten through 6th grade, with approximately 180 kids, from many different schools, gathered under the Garden's Gala Tent on a rainy Wednesday morning to learn about, and then draw, indigenous plants from the Florida Everglades.
Our group of youngsters were students from "The Growing Place", a unique kindergarten school run by First United Methodist Church of Coral Gables. They were led by Mari and Gaby, two remarkably kind and patient teachers, who introduced us to all the kids and helped us get them seated out in the Garden with their sketch books and colored pencils. Because it was drizzling intermittently, we chose to seat the kids by a nearby lake, close to a stand of Florida mangroves. My job was to explain about mangroves to the kids and suggest they draw the tangle of roots emerging from the water. Enough said! They immediately went to work.
Big excitement! A snapping turtle suddenly appeared in the lake, creating a momentary stopping of work. An anhinga bird, drying his wings on a branch across the lake, was another nature moment for the kids. Sheila and I had our work cut out for us, commenting on each kids drawing, suggesting, encouraging and applauding. Amazingly, for 5 and 6 year olds, some were definitely budding artists. Others did a lot of scribbling, but everyone did their best.
It was a wonderful morning. Exhausting, but inspiring. After two hours, we said goodbye to our group as they headed off to the Butterfly Garden before returning to school. Below are some of the photos I took of our group.
# # #
Our budding artists! That's Sheila and me in the back. |
Sheila working with the youngsters |
Explaining about mangroves to the kids and teacher Mary |
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Birthdays can be beautiful. .
Hard to believe it's a year since I wrote about my "big 85th", but October 19th came and went yesterday, so a year it is. Thanks to my special friend Paul, it was three days of celebration, starting with Saturday night and ending last night with a fabulous stone crab dinner, a frosty apple martini, and a "Happy Birthday" surprise dessert.
When I started this blog 6 1/2 years ago (doesn't that number blow your mind?? It does mine.) I titled it, Age Is Just A Number. The card on the beautiful bouquet of flowers that arrived at my apartment yesterday read just that. . .plus the sentence. .Yours is unlisted.
That about sums up how I feel these days. Lucky, actually blessed, to be healthy, active and still having fun. I've decided not to think about the actual number. Consider it unlisted. (You may remember my daughter calls me the Queen of Denial.)
Thanks to each of you for reading my blog these many years. It continues to fascinate me how the various subjects I write about often resonate differently amongst the 200+ people who currently receive it. Some of you I hear from often. Some once in a while. Some never, but that's fine also. Some of you I've actually never met. You've been added on to my blog list by those that I do know, but I'm truly glad you are all out there in my personal cyber-world. By this time you've guessed that writing is my thing.
So if it's ok with you guys, I'm going to keep on blogging.
# # #
When I started this blog 6 1/2 years ago (doesn't that number blow your mind?? It does mine.) I titled it, Age Is Just A Number. The card on the beautiful bouquet of flowers that arrived at my apartment yesterday read just that. . .plus the sentence. .Yours is unlisted.
That about sums up how I feel these days. Lucky, actually blessed, to be healthy, active and still having fun. I've decided not to think about the actual number. Consider it unlisted. (You may remember my daughter calls me the Queen of Denial.)
Thanks to each of you for reading my blog these many years. It continues to fascinate me how the various subjects I write about often resonate differently amongst the 200+ people who currently receive it. Some of you I hear from often. Some once in a while. Some never, but that's fine also. Some of you I've actually never met. You've been added on to my blog list by those that I do know, but I'm truly glad you are all out there in my personal cyber-world. By this time you've guessed that writing is my thing.
So if it's ok with you guys, I'm going to keep on blogging.
# # #
My favorite birthday card from my great-grandson Grayson |
Monday, October 12, 2015
I'm rethinking my love of art. . . .
I seem to have acquired an expensive new "object d'art" for my home. I have no idea when I purchased it, or who decided the shelf on which it would be displayed. (Not my decision, I can assure you.) It just showed up the other morning, and something told me. .. better still, warned me. . .not to mess with the placement.
Yeah, it's Ginger. My girl cat, aka the "Terror of The Western World". And that's the shelf area on the wall in back of my sit-down bar, where I usually display some of my most treasured art objects, none of which are known to breathe, purr, or move stealthily around on four legs.
The shelf of choice on this particular morning is shared with a very breakable raku sculpture of an Indian squaw purchased in Aspen, and an elegant silver framed photo of my immediate family (Andrea, Adam, Amy and me), taken on my 80th birthday. At the moment, it is totally obscured by a ball of fur. On the shelf below are more breakable objects, plus a metal sculpture titled "Lion In Wait", that is either imitating Ginger, or Ginger's trying to upstage it. I think she's winning.
Any one in the market for a 7 lb. kitty who is capable of breaking everything in sight? If she comes down off the shelf without doing too much damage, she's all yours!
# # #
Yeah, it's Ginger. My girl cat, aka the "Terror of The Western World". And that's the shelf area on the wall in back of my sit-down bar, where I usually display some of my most treasured art objects, none of which are known to breathe, purr, or move stealthily around on four legs.
The shelf of choice on this particular morning is shared with a very breakable raku sculpture of an Indian squaw purchased in Aspen, and an elegant silver framed photo of my immediate family (Andrea, Adam, Amy and me), taken on my 80th birthday. At the moment, it is totally obscured by a ball of fur. On the shelf below are more breakable objects, plus a metal sculpture titled "Lion In Wait", that is either imitating Ginger, or Ginger's trying to upstage it. I think she's winning.
Any one in the market for a 7 lb. kitty who is capable of breaking everything in sight? If she comes down off the shelf without doing too much damage, she's all yours!
# # #
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
The art world, then and now.
When I arrived in Miami Beach in1957, the closest thing to cultural arts in the area was the glittering lobby of the Fontainebleau hotel. Bal Harbour Shops, with its elegant art galleries, hadn't been built yet, nor was I-95 available to speed you southward to the little village of Coconut Grove with its bohemian enclave of young and unknown artists.
I'm remembering the early 60's, when the arrival of the Coconut Grove Art Festival, thought up by my fellow PR practitioner, Charlie Cinnamon, to publicize the local theater, was the really big artistic deal of the entire year. Absolutely everyone went to those exciting outdoor shows. It was the only game in town for many years. I have numerous treasured purchases from my own visits on display around my apartment to this very day.
What precipitated my "musing" is that I am planning to visit PAMM (the Perez Art Museum Miami) this afternoon, to view the newest exhibition at this architecturally fabulous new art center, perched on the banks of Biscayne Bay, in Miami's Bayfront Park. PAMM is just part of the cultural explosion that has been taking place around here the last few years, ever since the arrival of ArtBasel Miami, held on Miami Beach every December, and its sister show, ArtMiami, in the fast growing, newly gentrified Wynwood district of the City of Miami.
Wynwood, formerly a derelict industrial area just north of downtown Miami, has emerged as the City's new art center, bustling with restaurants, shops and galleries, especially on Saturday Night Art Walks. Prices of the art, like the rents in the area, have skyrocketed over the years. In Switzerland, where ArtBasel originates, they actually know all about us these days. We've become a respected international art center and a favorite destination for wealthy art lovers.
What a difference a mere 57 years can make!!!
# # #
I'm remembering the early 60's, when the arrival of the Coconut Grove Art Festival, thought up by my fellow PR practitioner, Charlie Cinnamon, to publicize the local theater, was the really big artistic deal of the entire year. Absolutely everyone went to those exciting outdoor shows. It was the only game in town for many years. I have numerous treasured purchases from my own visits on display around my apartment to this very day.
What precipitated my "musing" is that I am planning to visit PAMM (the Perez Art Museum Miami) this afternoon, to view the newest exhibition at this architecturally fabulous new art center, perched on the banks of Biscayne Bay, in Miami's Bayfront Park. PAMM is just part of the cultural explosion that has been taking place around here the last few years, ever since the arrival of ArtBasel Miami, held on Miami Beach every December, and its sister show, ArtMiami, in the fast growing, newly gentrified Wynwood district of the City of Miami.
Wynwood, formerly a derelict industrial area just north of downtown Miami, has emerged as the City's new art center, bustling with restaurants, shops and galleries, especially on Saturday Night Art Walks. Prices of the art, like the rents in the area, have skyrocketed over the years. In Switzerland, where ArtBasel originates, they actually know all about us these days. We've become a respected international art center and a favorite destination for wealthy art lovers.
What a difference a mere 57 years can make!!!
# # #
PAMM (Perez Art Museum Miami) |
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
It's that time again. . .
I've decided that my father really wanted to have a son. Since he was blessed with two daughters, his only alternative was to make them both sports nuts. If you are wondering at this point, what is she getting at now, I may have to remind you that it's football season once again, and the Dolphins played their first game Sunday afternoon.
Sunday night was the start of Rosh Hashonah, and for most Jewish families, an evening for a traditional holiday meal complete with matzoh ball soup, brisket, kasha, the works. I was invited to join my sister Fran's family in Broward County for dinner, and since I don't love driving home on I-95 late at night, I planned to sleep overnight at her Ft. Lauderdale apartment.
Here's how our phone conversation on early Sunday morning went.
Fran: "Joan, what time are you planning to get here?"
Joan:: "I should leave here around noon, I guess."
Fran: "The game starts at one. You'll miss the kick off."
Joan: "Oops, you're right. I better start at 11."
Fran: "Don't worry. I'm TiVoing it anyway, in case I want to go back and
review a play."
Did I mention that my sister just turned 89? She watches every Marlin's baseball game and like myself, has been a Dolphin fan since day one.
We're pretty sure our Mother didn't have any interest in sports, so when our Dad wanted to go to see his beloved Yankees play ball, or take the train into NYC to Madison Square Garden to attend a track meet or a basketball game, she probably said "OK, if you insist, but only if you take one of the girls". That how both of us learned to love sports, not very usual for girls in those days.
Fast forward. . .Fran and I watched the game together, and wonder of wonders, the Dolphins actually managed to pull it together in the second half and win, thanks to an incredible punt return by Jarvis Landry. Then off to Fran's daughter Vicki's house for a delicious dinner.
Is there a better way to spend New Year's????
# # #
Sunday night was the start of Rosh Hashonah, and for most Jewish families, an evening for a traditional holiday meal complete with matzoh ball soup, brisket, kasha, the works. I was invited to join my sister Fran's family in Broward County for dinner, and since I don't love driving home on I-95 late at night, I planned to sleep overnight at her Ft. Lauderdale apartment.
Here's how our phone conversation on early Sunday morning went.
Fran: "Joan, what time are you planning to get here?"
Joan:: "I should leave here around noon, I guess."
Fran: "The game starts at one. You'll miss the kick off."
Joan: "Oops, you're right. I better start at 11."
Fran: "Don't worry. I'm TiVoing it anyway, in case I want to go back and
review a play."
Did I mention that my sister just turned 89? She watches every Marlin's baseball game and like myself, has been a Dolphin fan since day one.
We're pretty sure our Mother didn't have any interest in sports, so when our Dad wanted to go to see his beloved Yankees play ball, or take the train into NYC to Madison Square Garden to attend a track meet or a basketball game, she probably said "OK, if you insist, but only if you take one of the girls". That how both of us learned to love sports, not very usual for girls in those days.
Dad and his girls, plus our dog Frisky |
Fast forward. . .Fran and I watched the game together, and wonder of wonders, the Dolphins actually managed to pull it together in the second half and win, thanks to an incredible punt return by Jarvis Landry. Then off to Fran's daughter Vicki's house for a delicious dinner.
Is there a better way to spend New Year's????
# # #
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Mixed emotions. . .
I received an invitation in the mail today. It came from something called "The Alliance for Aging" and it invited me to attend the "2015 Positive Aging Awards Nominee Reception". I don't know whether to be horrified or flattered.
Let me start by saying that I have discovered I am "my Mother's daughter" when it comes to volunteering. It must be in my genes, because most of you are aware that although I am only semi-retired and still do free lance writing for clients, I also spend a lot of time volunteering for various non-profits, one of which is the Miami Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired. I tell you this because I was recently informed by friend and Lighthouse CEO, Virginia Jacko, that they have nominated me for the 2015 Volunteer Award.
My first reaction was "You gotta be kidding. Why me?" Good question. I guess because my donation to this very amazing institution is a monthly on-line blog called "Light Line". I totally enjoy writing it and have been doing so for over a year. Much to my amazement and their delight, it seems to have brought the Lighthouse into the social media world and resulted in increased financial donations from the more than 4,000 people who receive it on the their computers every month.
I am much too vain to not wince at the "aging" aspect of the award, thus the "horrified" feeling of the situation. I am sure there are many more qualified "oldies" out there who will take top honors for their volunteering efforts. On the other hand, I can't help thinking, "Wouldn't Mom be proud."
# #
Let me start by saying that I have discovered I am "my Mother's daughter" when it comes to volunteering. It must be in my genes, because most of you are aware that although I am only semi-retired and still do free lance writing for clients, I also spend a lot of time volunteering for various non-profits, one of which is the Miami Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired. I tell you this because I was recently informed by friend and Lighthouse CEO, Virginia Jacko, that they have nominated me for the 2015 Volunteer Award.
My first reaction was "You gotta be kidding. Why me?" Good question. I guess because my donation to this very amazing institution is a monthly on-line blog called "Light Line". I totally enjoy writing it and have been doing so for over a year. Much to my amazement and their delight, it seems to have brought the Lighthouse into the social media world and resulted in increased financial donations from the more than 4,000 people who receive it on the their computers every month.
I am much too vain to not wince at the "aging" aspect of the award, thus the "horrified" feeling of the situation. I am sure there are many more qualified "oldies" out there who will take top honors for their volunteering efforts. On the other hand, I can't help thinking, "Wouldn't Mom be proud."
# #
My Mom on her 85th birthday with my sister Fran and me. |
Monday, August 3, 2015
Something to think about. . .
The Today Show this morning talked about the fact that there are really three types of people. . introverts, extroverts and ambiverts. I never heard the word so I looked it up on Google, and sure enough it's "Someone who exhibits qualities of both introversion and extroversion." Who knew???
On second thought, I realized I qualify for that category. . .in business I was always an extrovert, able to carry on conversations and be comfortable in all sorts of situations. In my personal life I tend to be less friendly, less extroverted. I'm not one to strike up a conversation with complete strangers and I'm notoriously a poor chatter on the telephone. My daughter Andrea complains that I always sound like I'm ready to say good by, two seconds after I say hello. I always marvel at my friend Sandy whom I say can "talk to the wall" if no one else is around.
One of the signs of an introvert, according to the Today Show, is a person who enjoys being alone. I confess. I am very happy to spend time by myself in my home, although in my mind I'm actually never really alone with my two cats, Wasabi and Ginger, close by. Give me a good book, a handful of fruit flavored jelly bellies, and today's Miami Herald crossword puzzle, and I'm a happy camper. That's definitely my introverted side.
Funny, I never really thought about it before. Should I make an effort to be more friendly? I'll have to sleep on that.
# # #
On second thought, I realized I qualify for that category. . .in business I was always an extrovert, able to carry on conversations and be comfortable in all sorts of situations. In my personal life I tend to be less friendly, less extroverted. I'm not one to strike up a conversation with complete strangers and I'm notoriously a poor chatter on the telephone. My daughter Andrea complains that I always sound like I'm ready to say good by, two seconds after I say hello. I always marvel at my friend Sandy whom I say can "talk to the wall" if no one else is around.
One of the signs of an introvert, according to the Today Show, is a person who enjoys being alone. I confess. I am very happy to spend time by myself in my home, although in my mind I'm actually never really alone with my two cats, Wasabi and Ginger, close by. Give me a good book, a handful of fruit flavored jelly bellies, and today's Miami Herald crossword puzzle, and I'm a happy camper. That's definitely my introverted side.
Funny, I never really thought about it before. Should I make an effort to be more friendly? I'll have to sleep on that.
# # #
My two best friends???? |
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Look what I found on Facebook from 2009!
25 Random Thoughts
1. I am not cut out to be a stay-at-home housewife.
2. I think my cat Ginger was an Islamic terrorist in another life.
3. Wasabi, on the other hand, is nothing but sweetness.
4. My daughter Andrea is my best friend these days.
5. All my other friends have either moved away or gotten sick. Bummer.
6. I'd rather go to an art show or a flea market with Andrea than anyone else
7. I miss skiing and all the comraderie that went with it.
8. I have great memories of skiing with my grandson Adam from age of 4.
9. I guess we weren't great role models. At apres ski we would prop him up
on the bar and order him a Shirley Temple with 3 cherries while we drank vodka
10. I can't get my mind around the "number" of my next birthday. Double bummer.
11.I still want to travel. My hit list includes Antarctica to see the polar bears,
Viet Nam and Australia. I also want to climb Machu Pichu.
12. I will never again book a plane ride on the same day as my European cruise ship leaves.
13. I can't believe I am still driving my 10 year old Lexus coupe and have no desire for a new one
14. The economy has made me lose all desire to shop.
15. I have stopped looking at my stock portfolios. They make me ill.
16. I wonder if the market will come back in my lifetime. Let's be practical. . in the next five years.
17. In my head, I am still 5' tall. On my feet, I am shorter than the rest of the world.
18. In my head, I am still young. . .maybe late 50's, early 60's.
19. I remember hearing my parents talk about the Great Depression. I was
born on the day the stock market crashed in 1929.
20. I love living at Grove Isle.
21. I am trying to think up creative ways to spend my time now that business has slowed down
so much. I would much rather work.
22. I read a book about Cuba pre-Castro the other day and it made me think of all my trips
to Havana to review the nite club shows for the Miami Beach Sun newspaper.
23. My public relations business has provided me with more than 50 years of fabulous memories.
24. Nonny's "writing gene" was the gift that keeps on giving. Thanks, Mom, I miss you every day.
25. Two marriages. Two divorces. Damned good life. No regrets.
2. I think my cat Ginger was an Islamic terrorist in another life.
3. Wasabi, on the other hand, is nothing but sweetness.
4. My daughter Andrea is my best friend these days.
5. All my other friends have either moved away or gotten sick. Bummer.
6. I'd rather go to an art show or a flea market with Andrea than anyone else
7. I miss skiing and all the comraderie that went with it.
8. I have great memories of skiing with my grandson Adam from age of 4.
9. I guess we weren't great role models. At apres ski we would prop him up
on the bar and order him a Shirley Temple with 3 cherries while we drank vodka
10. I can't get my mind around the "number" of my next birthday. Double bummer.
11.I still want to travel. My hit list includes Antarctica to see the polar bears,
Viet Nam and Australia. I also want to climb Machu Pichu.
12. I will never again book a plane ride on the same day as my European cruise ship leaves.
13. I can't believe I am still driving my 10 year old Lexus coupe and have no desire for a new one
14. The economy has made me lose all desire to shop.
15. I have stopped looking at my stock portfolios. They make me ill.
16. I wonder if the market will come back in my lifetime. Let's be practical. . in the next five years.
17. In my head, I am still 5' tall. On my feet, I am shorter than the rest of the world.
18. In my head, I am still young. . .maybe late 50's, early 60's.
19. I remember hearing my parents talk about the Great Depression. I was
born on the day the stock market crashed in 1929.
20. I love living at Grove Isle.
21. I am trying to think up creative ways to spend my time now that business has slowed down
so much. I would much rather work.
22. I read a book about Cuba pre-Castro the other day and it made me think of all my trips
to Havana to review the nite club shows for the Miami Beach Sun newspaper.
23. My public relations business has provided me with more than 50 years of fabulous memories.
24. Nonny's "writing gene" was the gift that keeps on giving. Thanks, Mom, I miss you every day.
25. Two marriages. Two divorces. Damned good life. No regrets.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
I have a new painting genre. . . .
My beautiful little great-grandson Grayson is a great fan of a kid's animated TV series called Dinosaur Train. He has watched it a few thousand times according to his Mom and Dad and even I have watched it a few times whenever I've visited the family in Jacksonville.
I preface this information because Amy, Grayson's Mommy, recently decided to re-decorate his bedroom in a dinosaur theme. To start it off, she painted a triptych of the bright green dinosaur train and asked me to paint three of the show's characters to serve as framed pictures on the walls. I was honored at the commission and went right to work.
I recognized "The Conductor" from watching the show. He is actually a Troodon, according to Google. I needed Google to acquaint me with my other two subjects, "Tank", a bright blue Triceratop, and "King", a pink and blue Cryolophosaurus. (Of course you knew that. I knew you would.)
The completed paintings arrived in Jacksonville at the Anker home on Monday, and leave it to Amy, the room is now complete and looking fabulous. Grayson has made it pretty clear that "King", the pink dino, is his absolute new favorite. Please check out the photo Amy texted me of G. studying his new buddy close up.
I've blogged about my animal paintings before, but dinosaurs are something new for me. Amy says both she and Grayson approve of my finished product. They can both be tough taskmasters, so if they say they are ok, I guess I can add dinosaurs to my artistic genre.
# #
I preface this information because Amy, Grayson's Mommy, recently decided to re-decorate his bedroom in a dinosaur theme. To start it off, she painted a triptych of the bright green dinosaur train and asked me to paint three of the show's characters to serve as framed pictures on the walls. I was honored at the commission and went right to work.
I recognized "The Conductor" from watching the show. He is actually a Troodon, according to Google. I needed Google to acquaint me with my other two subjects, "Tank", a bright blue Triceratop, and "King", a pink and blue Cryolophosaurus. (Of course you knew that. I knew you would.)
The completed paintings arrived in Jacksonville at the Anker home on Monday, and leave it to Amy, the room is now complete and looking fabulous. Grayson has made it pretty clear that "King", the pink dino, is his absolute new favorite. Please check out the photo Amy texted me of G. studying his new buddy close up.
I've blogged about my animal paintings before, but dinosaurs are something new for me. Amy says both she and Grayson approve of my finished product. They can both be tough taskmasters, so if they say they are ok, I guess I can add dinosaurs to my artistic genre.
Grayson watching his favorite show. |
Amy's excellent painting of the Dinosaur Train |
"The Conductor" |
"Tank" |
"King" |
Grayson communing with King. |
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Ship wreck, any one????
My dear friend, Axel Bogen, who lives in Brazil, forwarded me a photo from our past the other day. I opened my e-mail to see a version of myself from 45 years ago, sitting with a much younger Axel, on a dock in the Gibraltar Naval Yards. That's Gibraltar, as in Rock of. The ship behind us, and the story of how we got there, is an interesting one.
Here's what happened. The ex and I were on our first trans-Atlantic cruise back to the U.S. after having spent three great weeks touring Europe. It was summertime, and in those days business came to a standstill in Miami during the summer months, so taking a month off was no big deal. Can't imagine doing that today. After driving across Switzerland and down the boot of Italy to Genoa, we had boarded the Italian liner, Rafaello, for the final leg of our trip home.
The Rafaello still had three classes at that time. . first class, where we were, second class a few decks below, and third class, down below the water line, filled with families and individuals immigrating to America. I found this out because on our first night aboard ship we attended a special performance in the ship's night club by a famous European acrobatic dancer who was also making the trip as Guest Entertainer. (If you've ever seen a performance of Cirque de Soleil, you'll know what an acrobatic dancer does.)
His name was Axel Bogen. (Yes, the same Axel in the picture.) He was actually German-born, but lived in Rio de Janeiro, and after his performance, which was amazing, he joined a group of us in the ship's bar where we all became friends. Later in the evening, he invited us to accompany him down to the 3rd class deck of the ship where he gave a performance to the cheering Italian immigrants. That's how we discovered, and were properly horrified by, the ship's class distinctions.
On the second night of our cruise we were still in the Mediterranean, approaching the Straits of Gibraltar, when the ship's very charming captain threw a fabulous party for the lst class passengers. I remember someone making an off hand remark wondering who was steering the ship, since the entire crew seem to be at the party, Apparently, no one was.
We all went to bed about 2 AM, feeling no pain from plenty of liquid celebration, and were woken very abruptly around 3 by a violent jerk of the entire ship. It was so strong that I was almost knocked out of my berth. I remember saying to my husband, "I think we hit something." He famously replied, "Don't be stupid. Go back to sleep." Since there were no sirens and nothing seem to be happening, I did. We weren't to find out what happened until the morning light when we realized the ship wasn't moving and we were still in the Straits and not out in the Atlantic where we were supposed to be.
We definitely hit something alright. It was a freighter, and we literally cut it in two. Our ship was apparently going too fast to stop in time when the freighter crossed in front of it and the Straits were too narrow to turn and avoid it.. Thus that lovely big hole in the prow of the Rafaello that you can see in the photo. Although we passengers were none the worse for the wear, the ship needed to be towed into the nearby Gibraltar Naval Yards to be repaired before it could continue on our voyage. That's how we got to spend the entire week that we should have been at sea, living on a very landlocked, pretty banged up ship.
Don't feel sorry for us. We had a ball. Champagne flowed and caviar reigned, morning, noon and night, all at the expense of the ship. We, who had just met, all became fast friends, and obviously still are. A shipwreck will do that for you. We viewed the famous Gibraltar monkeys. Gambled in the local casino. Flew in a little plane one day over to Tangiers to shop in the souks. There were no cell phones in those days and it was a while before we could find a proper phone to let our families know we were safe because apparently the wreck was on the evening news and in the newspapers.
Some passengers stayed on board until the ship was completely repaired but after five days our time had run out, so we flew to London an then back home to Miami. I had actually never seen this photo before, or if I had, I had totally forgotten it. But it definitely brought back memories of an unforgettable experience. How often do you get to experience a shipwreck and live to write about it?
I'll drink to that!
# # #
Here's what happened. The ex and I were on our first trans-Atlantic cruise back to the U.S. after having spent three great weeks touring Europe. It was summertime, and in those days business came to a standstill in Miami during the summer months, so taking a month off was no big deal. Can't imagine doing that today. After driving across Switzerland and down the boot of Italy to Genoa, we had boarded the Italian liner, Rafaello, for the final leg of our trip home.
The Rafaello still had three classes at that time. . first class, where we were, second class a few decks below, and third class, down below the water line, filled with families and individuals immigrating to America. I found this out because on our first night aboard ship we attended a special performance in the ship's night club by a famous European acrobatic dancer who was also making the trip as Guest Entertainer. (If you've ever seen a performance of Cirque de Soleil, you'll know what an acrobatic dancer does.)
His name was Axel Bogen. (Yes, the same Axel in the picture.) He was actually German-born, but lived in Rio de Janeiro, and after his performance, which was amazing, he joined a group of us in the ship's bar where we all became friends. Later in the evening, he invited us to accompany him down to the 3rd class deck of the ship where he gave a performance to the cheering Italian immigrants. That's how we discovered, and were properly horrified by, the ship's class distinctions.
On the second night of our cruise we were still in the Mediterranean, approaching the Straits of Gibraltar, when the ship's very charming captain threw a fabulous party for the lst class passengers. I remember someone making an off hand remark wondering who was steering the ship, since the entire crew seem to be at the party, Apparently, no one was.
We all went to bed about 2 AM, feeling no pain from plenty of liquid celebration, and were woken very abruptly around 3 by a violent jerk of the entire ship. It was so strong that I was almost knocked out of my berth. I remember saying to my husband, "I think we hit something." He famously replied, "Don't be stupid. Go back to sleep." Since there were no sirens and nothing seem to be happening, I did. We weren't to find out what happened until the morning light when we realized the ship wasn't moving and we were still in the Straits and not out in the Atlantic where we were supposed to be.
We definitely hit something alright. It was a freighter, and we literally cut it in two. Our ship was apparently going too fast to stop in time when the freighter crossed in front of it and the Straits were too narrow to turn and avoid it.. Thus that lovely big hole in the prow of the Rafaello that you can see in the photo. Although we passengers were none the worse for the wear, the ship needed to be towed into the nearby Gibraltar Naval Yards to be repaired before it could continue on our voyage. That's how we got to spend the entire week that we should have been at sea, living on a very landlocked, pretty banged up ship.
Don't feel sorry for us. We had a ball. Champagne flowed and caviar reigned, morning, noon and night, all at the expense of the ship. We, who had just met, all became fast friends, and obviously still are. A shipwreck will do that for you. We viewed the famous Gibraltar monkeys. Gambled in the local casino. Flew in a little plane one day over to Tangiers to shop in the souks. There were no cell phones in those days and it was a while before we could find a proper phone to let our families know we were safe because apparently the wreck was on the evening news and in the newspapers.
Some passengers stayed on board until the ship was completely repaired but after five days our time had run out, so we flew to London an then back home to Miami. I had actually never seen this photo before, or if I had, I had totally forgotten it. But it definitely brought back memories of an unforgettable experience. How often do you get to experience a shipwreck and live to write about it?
I'll drink to that!
# # #
Saturday, May 30, 2015
It's a butterfly world out there. . .
I do my weekly Friday morning tram tours at Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden, and by the end of the last tour, at 1pm, I am usually very happy to go directly home. This Friday marked the last of my tours that included information on the installation of gorgeous Chihuly glass sculpture throughout the Garden. With the arrival of the Hurricane Season, all art must be removed, and while I will miss the fabulous sculptures, I won't miss the giant crowds and full trams that have marked the last five months.
Because I had my own visitors on my 12:30 tram yesterday, I stayed to have lunch at the Garden's Glasshaus Cafe and then accompanied my friends into the Exotic Butterfly Garden. I always urge my tram guests to visit the Butterfly Garden, telling them that "it is a magical experience, with literally hundreds of them fluttering overhead." To tell you the truth, I hadn't actually visited the enclosed area since it officially opened over a year ago, so yesterday's visit was truly as magical an experience for me as it was for my guests. It was, in fact, awesome.
We got really lucky and found ourselves on hand for the afternoon "release" of butterflies recently emerged from their cocoons. Two releases a day take place and you have to be very bored with life not to find yourself thrilled when the guide places the quivering butterfly, its wings still closed shut,, on your outstretched hand, As you hold your breath, it begins to spread its wings a little wider apart with every passing second, until fully open and fluttering gently, it takes off on its first flight into the surrounding foliage.
I promise you, it really is a magical experience.
# # #
Newly released butterfly, waiting to open its wings. |
We got really lucky and found ourselves on hand for the afternoon "release" of butterflies recently emerged from their cocoons. Two releases a day take place and you have to be very bored with life not to find yourself thrilled when the guide places the quivering butterfly, its wings still closed shut,, on your outstretched hand, As you hold your breath, it begins to spread its wings a little wider apart with every passing second, until fully open and fluttering gently, it takes off on its first flight into the surrounding foliage.
I promise you, it really is a magical experience.
# # #
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Memory of a Mall. . .
Today's Miami Herald has a headline that reads "Cocowalk Sold Again for $87.5 Million". Boy, did that bring back memories.
For you non-Grovites, CocoWalk is an iconic outdoor shopping mall in the heart of Coconut Grove. It opened in 1990 to great fanfare and success with early tenants like Banana Republic and South Florida's first Cheesecake Factory. In recent years it has fallen on hard times, but I remember those early days well, because I was very much there. Serving as the center's public relations agency during the building stage and responsible for giving it a name.
CocoWalk's original developer was an upscale French real estate company and my firm was hired during the preliminary stages to get publicity in the local papers and TV stations about its imminent arrival. It was to be the very first truly commercial enterprise in the center part of the Grove, an area that was just emerging from its hippy period during the 60's, and artsy atmosphere during the 70's and 80's,
One of my first jobs was to name the new enterprise, and as was my practice, I came up with three suggestions, making it very clear that I thought the first was definitely the one with which they should go.
The Grove was originally developed by the Peacock family and one of its distinguishing characteristics is Peacock Park on the edge of Biscayne Bay. Thus, my first name choice for this exciting new open air mini-mall was, drum roll please. . .Peacock Walk.
Everyone in our office loved the name, as did the ad agency when we told them. Former New Yorker's among us were quick to note that the famous bar, in that city's posh Waldorf Astoria Hotel, was also called Peacock Walk. I couldn't wait to present my choice at our next meeting with the client.
I did present it. With a flourish. Followed by dead silence from the client's side of the table.
"Is there a problem?" I inquired sweetly. "Umm," said the boss client, an elegant Frenchman, looking vaguely embarrassed at what he was about to say. "Peacock," he murmured, all the time looking down at the table. "Not such a nice word in France. Do you have another suggestion, mon petit?"
That's how Coconut Grove's first mall got named CocoWalk. The second name on my list.
# # #
For you non-Grovites, CocoWalk is an iconic outdoor shopping mall in the heart of Coconut Grove. It opened in 1990 to great fanfare and success with early tenants like Banana Republic and South Florida's first Cheesecake Factory. In recent years it has fallen on hard times, but I remember those early days well, because I was very much there. Serving as the center's public relations agency during the building stage and responsible for giving it a name.
CocoWalk's original developer was an upscale French real estate company and my firm was hired during the preliminary stages to get publicity in the local papers and TV stations about its imminent arrival. It was to be the very first truly commercial enterprise in the center part of the Grove, an area that was just emerging from its hippy period during the 60's, and artsy atmosphere during the 70's and 80's,
One of my first jobs was to name the new enterprise, and as was my practice, I came up with three suggestions, making it very clear that I thought the first was definitely the one with which they should go.
The Grove was originally developed by the Peacock family and one of its distinguishing characteristics is Peacock Park on the edge of Biscayne Bay. Thus, my first name choice for this exciting new open air mini-mall was, drum roll please. . .Peacock Walk.
Everyone in our office loved the name, as did the ad agency when we told them. Former New Yorker's among us were quick to note that the famous bar, in that city's posh Waldorf Astoria Hotel, was also called Peacock Walk. I couldn't wait to present my choice at our next meeting with the client.
I did present it. With a flourish. Followed by dead silence from the client's side of the table.
"Is there a problem?" I inquired sweetly. "Umm," said the boss client, an elegant Frenchman, looking vaguely embarrassed at what he was about to say. "Peacock," he murmured, all the time looking down at the table. "Not such a nice word in France. Do you have another suggestion, mon petit?"
That's how Coconut Grove's first mall got named CocoWalk. The second name on my list.
# # #
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Some thoughts about tattoos. .. .
I've never been a big believer in tattoos, but I think I've changed my mind. I can't explain it better than what my grandson Adam posted on his Facebook page the other day, so I think I will just reprint his words here.
"I've always loved tattoos but never had anything that I was passionate enough about to make permanent on my body. Then 4 years ago (his bday is tomorrow) Grayson changed our lives. So yesterday, at 36 years old, I got my first tattoo. Yes, that is his actual silhouette. I'm looking forward to explaining to random people the meaning behind the tattoo. DIFFERENT...NOT LESS!!!"
Adam's son, and my beautiful great-grandson Grayson, is autistic. We have all learned so much about autism in the four short years that he has been with us. One important moment of understanding about this puzzling situation came when Adam had us all read a book titled "The Reason I Jump" by a 14 year old autistic Japanese boy. That book allowed us to have insight into the very different world that our little boy was experiencing at times. And if you have ever heard of Temple Grandin, or seen the documentary about her, you will recognize her very important description of people like her who live with autism, ,. "Different. . Not Less". . the words that Adam has added to the design of his tattoo.
I urge you to remember those words, because they are a true description of the person of any age on the autistic spectrum. The puzzle pieces are also symbolic of autism and the color blue has come be associated with it as well. A few weeks ago I posted a photo of myself wearing blue to celebrate "Light it up Blue for Autism" week.
So here is the exciting news I am so happy to share with everyone. So far, Grayson is non-verbal. His Mom, Amy, and his Dad, Adam, have been working along with the wonderful teachers at the school he goes to, to hopefully help him to begin to talk. Wednesday was G's 4th birthday and he gave all of us an incredible present. (The tears are starting to flow.)
He spoke his first word!
# # #
So here is the exciting news I am so happy to share with everyone. So far, Grayson is non-verbal. His Mom, Amy, and his Dad, Adam, have been working along with the wonderful teachers at the school he goes to, to hopefully help him to begin to talk. Wednesday was G's 4th birthday and he gave all of us an incredible present. (The tears are starting to flow.)
He spoke his first word!
# # #
Monday, April 6, 2015
Poet laureate, I'm not.
I've never considered myself to be a poet, despite my penchant for writing jingles for every occasion in the life of my daughter Andrea and my grandson Adam. Andrea received a birthday poem every year from age 16 to 21 and a "wedding poem" on the occasion of her marriage. Adam was the recipient of poems all through high school and college, ending in his graduation from the University of Florida, although I think I remember writing a poem when he married Amy.
I mention this because I have just entered a poetry contest. Don't ask why. It's not exactly Emily Dickinson style poetry, actually it's more like haiku, very off beat, and really shouldn't rhyme, but it is a contest. And the more I read about it, the more I knew I had to at least try.
This is O, Miami month here in Miami. O, Miami is a Knight Foundation-funded organization that expands and advances literary culture in Greater Miami, FL. At least that's what it says on the web site. It produces visiting writer series and other programs that bring the best literature to the greatest number of people. It also produces an annual Poetry Festival and this year they are asking entries to write an "Ode To Their Zip Code". In other words, a five line poem with each line having the exact amount of words as the numbers in your zip code.
My zip code is 33133. Not a lot of letters to work with, that's for sure, and please remember, I live in a place called Coconut Grove, and they tend to look for weird. Here's my entry:
ODE TO 33133
Groove on, Grove.
Miami's last vestige
of
the bohemian lifestyle
disappearing into air.
# # #
The winners get to read their entries aloud at the Festival's grand finale. I'll let you know how I do. Don't hold your breath.
I mention this because I have just entered a poetry contest. Don't ask why. It's not exactly Emily Dickinson style poetry, actually it's more like haiku, very off beat, and really shouldn't rhyme, but it is a contest. And the more I read about it, the more I knew I had to at least try.
This is O, Miami month here in Miami. O, Miami is a Knight Foundation-funded organization that expands and advances literary culture in Greater Miami, FL. At least that's what it says on the web site. It produces visiting writer series and other programs that bring the best literature to the greatest number of people. It also produces an annual Poetry Festival and this year they are asking entries to write an "Ode To Their Zip Code". In other words, a five line poem with each line having the exact amount of words as the numbers in your zip code.
My zip code is 33133. Not a lot of letters to work with, that's for sure, and please remember, I live in a place called Coconut Grove, and they tend to look for weird. Here's my entry:
ODE TO 33133
Groove on, Grove.
Miami's last vestige
of
the bohemian lifestyle
disappearing into air.
# # #
The winners get to read their entries aloud at the Festival's grand finale. I'll let you know how I do. Don't hold your breath.
# # #
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
A morning to remember. . .arf, arf!
It's called "Walk, Waggle and Stroll" but it should be called "A Million Laughs for a Wonderful Cause". I participated in the Miami Lighthouse's annual Dog Walk event, held at the Shops at MidTown Miami, on Sunday morning. Didn't have my own canine (I'm a cat person as you well know) so I shared with friend Sheila's delicious dog Henry, a malti-poo, and friend Susie Conroy's gorgeous black Lab, Bella.
Bella, incidentally, beat out a slew of other dogs to win First Prize in the "Dog Bobbing" contest. (Think "Bobbing for Apples" with kids at Xmas.) While other dogs wagged their tails and thought twice about it, even as their owners begged, Bella went head first into the water in the big plastic container to retrieve the chunks of frankfurters down at the bottom. As a matter of fact, Bella went back for seconds, possibly the reason Susie says she tends to be overweight. She was the winner of that event, paws down.
The Miami Lighthouse's Annual Dog Walk is a very successful fund raiser for that very worthwhile non-profit agency, as well as just an incredibly funny and fun event. This year over $20,000 was raised, and will go towards supporting orientation and mobility services for the blind and visually impaired. The actual "walk" part, about a half mile around the area, was lead by Lighthouse CEO Virginia Jacko and her wonderful yellow Lab (and my great friend when he has his work harness off), Kieran, plus Honorary Chairman of the event, Miami Dade County Commissioner Sally Heyman, with her two beautiful dogs. Sheila, Susie and I "walked the walk" with Henry and Bella, stopping to take lots of pictures and returning to the park to watch all the hilarious dog "contests".
# # #
Photo captions: (1) Ready to walk in our Britto-designed tee shirts
(2) The brochure
(3) Henry, looking handsome, in his St. Paddy's Day outfit
(4) Susie, congratulating soaking wet Bella, on her big win.
I'd like to say right here that Henry should have won "Best Costume". Unfortunately, there was a little problem with his hat falling off at a critical moment in the judging, and he was upstaged by a rottweiler in a tutu. What can I tell you.
Bella, incidentally, beat out a slew of other dogs to win First Prize in the "Dog Bobbing" contest. (Think "Bobbing for Apples" with kids at Xmas.) While other dogs wagged their tails and thought twice about it, even as their owners begged, Bella went head first into the water in the big plastic container to retrieve the chunks of frankfurters down at the bottom. As a matter of fact, Bella went back for seconds, possibly the reason Susie says she tends to be overweight. She was the winner of that event, paws down.
The Miami Lighthouse's Annual Dog Walk is a very successful fund raiser for that very worthwhile non-profit agency, as well as just an incredibly funny and fun event. This year over $20,000 was raised, and will go towards supporting orientation and mobility services for the blind and visually impaired. The actual "walk" part, about a half mile around the area, was lead by Lighthouse CEO Virginia Jacko and her wonderful yellow Lab (and my great friend when he has his work harness off), Kieran, plus Honorary Chairman of the event, Miami Dade County Commissioner Sally Heyman, with her two beautiful dogs. Sheila, Susie and I "walked the walk" with Henry and Bella, stopping to take lots of pictures and returning to the park to watch all the hilarious dog "contests".
# # #
Photo captions: (1) Ready to walk in our Britto-designed tee shirts
(2) The brochure
(3) Henry, looking handsome, in his St. Paddy's Day outfit
(4) Susie, congratulating soaking wet Bella, on her big win.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
A difficult question. . .
My old friend Marty Kahn called me this morning to consult on a very important matter. . .what to do with all his old ski equipment and ski clothes that he hasn't used or worn for several years but just can't get himself to throw or give away. I totally understood his problem. Both of us have come to the realization that our skiing days are over, but not without a struggle. Mainly, I think, because we're forced to acknowledge that if either of us took a header on the slopes, we'd both have a helluva time getting back up.
Marty called me for my opinion because we have "history"when it comes to skiing. That's because back umpteen years ago when I turned 50, I decided the ex and I should learn to ski. The ex was a Bronx boy who had never even been on a mountain, but he was game to try. Although I went to college in snowbound Syracuse, nice Jewish girls didn't do stuff like that in those days, so obviously, I was pretty mature when I decided to suddenly become an athlete. Marty and his late wife Nancy were our close friends, and if the Spectors were going to learn to ski, I insisted the Kahns followed suit. And ski we did, all over the world together, on many great occasions.
Today, Marty is a very respected retired judge. We actually met more than 40 years ago when he served as City Attorney for the City of North Miami and I was the Public Relations Director for that municipality. Times have changed for our old home town as well. Today it is the largest Haitian community in the U.S.
I wasn't much of a help in answering Marty's questions on what to do with all his "stuff". I still have a pair of skis leaning against the side wall of my storage locker downstairs in my condo building, just in case. I did send a lot of my ski clothes to my surrogate daughter Allison when she was living in Colorado, but I admit to being unable to part with my favorite red velvet ski jacket , that is still hanging in my closet, just in case it ever snows in Miami, or I happen to find myself on top of a mountain in Switzerland. ( Yeah, that's me in the photo, wearing my favorite, on top of some mountain.)
Hope springs eternal.
# # #
Photo caption:
Marty called me for my opinion because we have "history"when it comes to skiing. That's because back umpteen years ago when I turned 50, I decided the ex and I should learn to ski. The ex was a Bronx boy who had never even been on a mountain, but he was game to try. Although I went to college in snowbound Syracuse, nice Jewish girls didn't do stuff like that in those days, so obviously, I was pretty mature when I decided to suddenly become an athlete. Marty and his late wife Nancy were our close friends, and if the Spectors were going to learn to ski, I insisted the Kahns followed suit. And ski we did, all over the world together, on many great occasions.
Today, Marty is a very respected retired judge. We actually met more than 40 years ago when he served as City Attorney for the City of North Miami and I was the Public Relations Director for that municipality. Times have changed for our old home town as well. Today it is the largest Haitian community in the U.S.
I wasn't much of a help in answering Marty's questions on what to do with all his "stuff". I still have a pair of skis leaning against the side wall of my storage locker downstairs in my condo building, just in case. I did send a lot of my ski clothes to my surrogate daughter Allison when she was living in Colorado, but I admit to being unable to part with my favorite red velvet ski jacket , that is still hanging in my closet, just in case it ever snows in Miami, or I happen to find myself on top of a mountain in Switzerland. ( Yeah, that's me in the photo, wearing my favorite, on top of some mountain.)
Hope springs eternal.
# # #
Photo caption:
Sunday, March 1, 2015
A trip back in time. .
My friend Sheila and I went to the Annual Gifford Lane Art Stroll today. Gifford Lane is a throwback to Coconut Grove in the early 60's. The houses on the street are all small wood cottages, surrounded by huge shade trees and overgrown shrubs. You can't exactly call it landscaping, it's more like Nature made the decisions as to what went where and the homeowners came along for the ride.
We went for the art, but the atmosphere of this quiet little street in Center Grove, particularly during Art Stroll, is simply marvelous. At one point, we were invited into a home where the owner had her art on display throughout this typical 60's cottage which is exactly as it must have looked then, sans air conditioning, (that was only for the wealthy in those days), and today's inevitable computer and printer on the owner's desk. For a donation to some local charity, I can't remember which at the moment, Sheila and I each enjoyed a frosty "cucumber & gin" drink, that was ladled out of a huge glass bowl and was absolutely wonderful. That's me gratefully drinking up in the back yard of the house. (For you guys reading this up North, welcome to South Florida. . it's 80 degrees and getting hot here today.)
As usual, dogs were everywhere, all getting along wonderfully. Do you have to guess what I had for lunch? I have to either give up going to art shows or get help for my arepa addiction.
For those of us who remember Coconut Grove as a bucolic, artsy little village, Gifford Lane is truly a trip back in time. Today the Grove is super sophisticated with multi-million dollar condos going up everywhere you look along Bayshore Drive with its coveted view of Biscayne Bay. I guess it's a sign of age, but it is fun to remember.
# # # #
We went for the art, but the atmosphere of this quiet little street in Center Grove, particularly during Art Stroll, is simply marvelous. At one point, we were invited into a home where the owner had her art on display throughout this typical 60's cottage which is exactly as it must have looked then, sans air conditioning, (that was only for the wealthy in those days), and today's inevitable computer and printer on the owner's desk. For a donation to some local charity, I can't remember which at the moment, Sheila and I each enjoyed a frosty "cucumber & gin" drink, that was ladled out of a huge glass bowl and was absolutely wonderful. That's me gratefully drinking up in the back yard of the house. (For you guys reading this up North, welcome to South Florida. . it's 80 degrees and getting hot here today.)
As usual, dogs were everywhere, all getting along wonderfully. Do you have to guess what I had for lunch? I have to either give up going to art shows or get help for my arepa addiction.
For those of us who remember Coconut Grove as a bucolic, artsy little village, Gifford Lane is truly a trip back in time. Today the Grove is super sophisticated with multi-million dollar condos going up everywhere you look along Bayshore Drive with its coveted view of Biscayne Bay. I guess it's a sign of age, but it is fun to remember.
# # # #
Informality is the order of the day. |
Drinking up my Gin and Cucumbers! |
Only in The Grove. . the line under Medical Marijuana jars reads "I guess you could put other stuff in them!" |
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Six degrees of separation. . .
I've never been to the Academy Awards and doubt that I will ever get there, but it's fun to know that someone close to your family was not only there on Sunday night but actually played a part in the winning of one of the Oscars!
That's my "surrogate son-in-law", Jon Ostrin, holding John Legend's "Oscar", just won as "Best Original Song" for Legend's and Common's incredibly moving song, "Glory". Jon is the husband of daughter Andrea's half sister (and my "surrogate daughter") Allison, and works as Legend's personal
sound engineer. So he was backstage overseeing the sound system as Legend ad Common brought the audience to its feet with their stirring rendition of the song they wrote for the movie "Selma" about that historic march.
sound engineer. So he was backstage overseeing the sound system as Legend ad Common brought the audience to its feet with their stirring rendition of the song they wrote for the movie "Selma" about that historic march.
Jon has traveled the world with JL, as he calls him, this past year. He was on the bridge with him in Selma, they've been all over Europe, been to Australia and Korea. I know, because I play "Words With Friends" with Jon on a regular basis and every once in a while I will text him and say "Where are you, Jon?" iPhones don't differentiate about continents. We take turns winning and losing, whether he's in Korea or back in the USA.
Jon posted this photo on his Facebook page with the caption, "I've got the best gig!". Sure looks like it, Jon.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
I'm back in the animal kingdom. . . .
I think I've found my niche in the art world. Michaelangelo painted ceilings. Andy Warhol painted soup cans. I paint animals. Mostly dogs and cats with a bird or two thrown in here and there.
My newest art class at Fairchild Tropical Botanic Gardens is taught by a wonderful artist named Mai Yap, who is determined to get me to slow down when I paint. This session I am dutifully trying to master the art of going slow, paying attention to details, stop turning out three canvases to everyone else in the class's one. I marvel at my very talented classmates ability to spend weeks on perfecting one leaf. As my friend Paul likes to say, "Patience is not Joan's strong suit."
Max Binder |
Last week my niece Vicki called me with a sob in her voice that her beloved dog, Max, had just passed away and would I paint his portrait for her and her husband Larry. Max's photo arrived via e-mail and I started sketching right away. With class coming on Thursday, I knew I would have to tell Mai that patience will have to wait for a week. I've got to paint Max. And paint I did, with my classmates marveling once again that I started and finished in the 3 hour session.
Below are just a few of my "animal kingdom". What can I tell you. I can't help it. I love animals.
# # #
Louie Ostrin |
Apollo Sotelo |
Leo Pantine-Parrish |
J.W. Rosenblatt |
Layla Anker |
Newman |
Jake & Zoey Anker |
Punim |
Charcoal of Bodhi Ostrin |
The Anhinga |
Max Ceglia (done with palette knife) |
Wasabi Spector (done with a palate knife) |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)