A New Holiday Tradition

This year I wanted to initiate a special gathering with friends to celebrate Christmas and the completion of another year. Dinner or breakfast--argh. Another reason to eat this time of year is not cool. A party at my place--there's enough stuff strewn all over with decorations and I can't stand the stress of people crowding in here.

So I decided on a Holiday Nature Walk at Robinson Preserve.  Today was the day, and naturally it was the one day in the last twenty years it has rained here in December. Okay, yes, that may be a slight exaggeration about the twenty years. But it is not an exaggeration to let you know how many times I dropped the f-bomb while driving to the preserve.

As the windshield wipers went back and forth, I wondered how many of the 20 great ladies planning to come to Bradenton from Sarasota would make it and how many would actually want to walk in this weather. On a Sunday morning, there wasn't much room for a Plan B.

One by one, they all showed up except two. They were ready for an adventure. Not one suggested we didn't go or looked unenthused. Decked out in varying degrees of rain coats, umbrellas, hoods and quilted jackets, we set out.  We had a unbelievably peaceful walk in the light rain and soft mist through the preserve. Small groups formed and re-formed differently throughout the few miles as old friends saw acquaintances and new people met for the first time.  I enjoyed it all and am thankful to know such a great assemblage of women.

We shared a simple lunch at Atlanta Bread afterward. I returned to the house and read and napped for half of the afternoon. I'm thinking the others did the same.

I love the new tradition and hope to do it every year.

Willie

Early this afternoon, D-Man and I went to Robinson Preserve to enjoy the 3.8 mile loop. It's such a beautiful trail. D-Man rides his bike and I do a power walk.

It's a well-traveled path, and many people bring their dogs. D-Man always pauses to ask if he can pet each dog, and most people are happy to stop for a meet and greet.

We were maybe half a mile from the parking lot on the return loop when we encountered an elderly woman who was walking a small long-haired dog that looked like it was a perfect match for her. Little dogs usually aren't my thing, but something about this guy told me he had quite a story behind him.

D-Man approached with his hand outstretched, inquiring if it was okay to say hello.

"Why yes," she said. "But he's shy."

"Someone who was very mean to him used to own him. I've had Willie for a couple of years now, and he's starting to trust again. "

Willie sniffed D-Man's hand and then ran back behind the woman, darting between her feet.

"I can't understand people who get dogs just to hurt them," she continued.

As we turned to continue down the trail, we heard the woman say, "Willie is my best friend."

Nearly 12 years ago, I found my Flanders on the street. She was living under an abandoned cottage near my office building. A large cut ran down her head, as if she had squeezed underneath a chain link fence trying to get out of a bad situation. I fed her for 3 weeks before she would come anywhere near me.

I hate to imagine how she began her life, but I feel like we were destined to find each other. She's one of the greatest parts of each day, always such a comfort to me.

Of course I thought of this blessing when I met Willie and his owner. They were destined to find each other, and this connection between human and animal is one that only some will understand.

MargaritaTime

If I had to rate this week on an annoyingness scale of 1-10, I'd give it an 8. Sure, a score of 8 is nothing approaching a 10+, but it was just enough to put me in that space where I long for complete isolation from reality.

Each day I've started with a plan in mind and not much later, the entire thing is derailed with 75 new things that weren't even invented 15 minutes earlier. But such is life, right? If you can't be flexible, you'll have issues.

Last night after some much needed rain (ahhh, I love that sound), the weather turned and we're experiencing the first real taste of Fall here in Florida. It's that kind of delicious temperature that keeps you nestled in the covers and apparently also keeps your cell phone alarm on "silent" so you don't realize you're late as hell for work. I awoke with a startle this morning but was able to get ready in 20 minutes.

The weekend should provide a lovely reprieve from the insanity of the last 5 days.

We enjoyed a nice stroll in Bradenton's Village of the Arts this evening. Tomorrow morning, I'm meeting a friend going solo at Robinson Preserve for what promises to be a cool and delightful walk through some of the most gorgeous restored habitat in Manatee County.  When friends sleep in, you gotta forgive them.

And tomorrow evening, Husband and I are looking forward to the Girls, Inc. fundraiser on Longboat Key. That organization makes a tremendous difference in the lives of girls. The dedicated organizational leadership, its innovative programs and the stories I hear of girls who have a new sense of confidence are all prime examples of what good nonprofits do.

Margarita, anyone?  I'm in the mood for a nice cocktail.

Crossing the Line

I know, I know, it's a big no-no to get political on your blog, unless it's a political blog.  And religion, I shouldn't go there either.  So I'm going to do both in one post.

I was alarmed at my level of upset today when, on the way to work, I passed a man holding a sign advocating for a local political candidate (himself?) reading "Christian Leadership."

See, I have nothing against Christians. Muslims. Buddhists. Jews. In fact, I believe that all of the great religions in the world reach the same basic truths but get there in different ways. Different customs. Different pictures of God. But I happen to see it as the same God. 

I've had enough with division over this in America. It's time for this to end, to move on.

There are still people who still don't understand that we live in a country where there's a separation between church and state. Some of these people are already in office. Some are running for election.  It's usually the same people who don't recognize that "morality" and "ethical" behavior cross religions lines--they aren't any more or less inherent in Christianity than in any other religion. Those who use religion to back up violence or to judge others aren't truly living the messages expressed in their religion. They're practicing an altered version that leads to an unraveling of peace and truth and an uprising in anger and hatred.

By the message on the sign alone, its owner communicated two things to me:

1. I disrespect one of our country's founding premises--that old separation between church and state thing again.
2. I disrespect voters who are not Christian.

Religion doesn't have a place in American politics. Morality, ethics--yes. (I'd love to actually see them there.)

My freedom to choose, practice and express my religion is just that--mine.  It's not my business to judge you or prevent you from believing what you hold dear.  We're all prevented from that when our federal, state or county representatives are vocal advocates for one religion above another, in the midst of their public service or while advocating for votes. 

Pigging out on Weird

Neighbor likes pigs. And she collects pigs. So when a couple of peeps and I were scanning some pretty bizarre things in Palmetto antique stores on Saturday, I found these and quite naturally had to purchase them for my neighbor:

Neighbor has some kiddies at home, so she may have to store these in a special location. Or explain the facts of life using this relic from...when? I'm not sure how old they actually are.

You know, "antique" stores seem to be most accurately described as "junk and old crap cleaned out of dead people's apartments" stores. Wait, "SCARY junk and old crap cleaned out of dead people's apartments" stores.

Check this out:

Ah yes, there was lots more weird where that came from. 

We perused shelves laced with items like a porcelain statue of what looked like a two-headed cat, an autographed and framed mini-poster of Wayne Newton, several JFK busts, a giant decapitated baby doll head, a wooden doorstop(?) shaped like a woman with hooves for breasts, countless paintings that looked like creations of a half-third grade artist/half-Stephen King hybrid, figurines of the ugliest dogs, cows and dancing clowns you can imagine, etc., etc.

For my untrained antique eye, the before metioned items were comical to spot along the junk-filled cubicles of beat up furniture and stands. To someone who knows what he or she is doing, there could have been a gold mine there.

However you look at it, the trip was most amusing and we had a blast. I hope the shopkeepers didn't find us too obnoxious as rings of laughter lifted from the most hidden nooks and crannies to the front of the store.

Alive

Yesterday morning I went to Emerson Point Preserve, one of my favorite places in Manatee County. Laced with enchanted mangrove trails along the Terra Ceia Bay, a view of the grand Skyway Bridge in the distance and an upland trail through a transitioning habitat, it's diverse and full of subjects for any inspired photographer. I didn't bring my camera yesterday. I'm glad I didn't. I was able to focus on all the senses, and found some extraordinary things.

The night before we were fortunate to get drenched with a heavy storm. When the rain hits and soaks in, the world rejoices. Emerson was alive with sounds, smells and colors. Everything looked so bright. 

Seven Roseate Spoonbills stood on the side of a shrinking pond that still didn't get nearly enough water to restore the normal levels. Tracks from a wandering armadillo were clear enough to observe from dig to dig, where it had scraped a string of three inch holes searching for a tasty dinner, each laced with a thin line from its receding tail.

Recently the upland trail had been burned. Prescribed fire is a popular habitat management tool here in Florida, where invasive plants are destroyed and pine flatwoods are stopped from the process of succession to hardwood hammocks. Because of the rain, the smell of the burned earth was ripe again, and filled my nose with the scent of a raging campfire the morning after. Beautiful.

The wild limes, a native plant which doesn't actually bear limes, were blooming with clusters of tiny flowers. As I approached each wild lime, a sound like a muffled airstrip grew louder. Hundreds and hundreds of bees were pollinating them, and no matter how close I got, it wasn't close enough to disturb them from their deliberate work of working the small blossoms. Incredible.

I love how the world becomes even more alive after the rain. Although I'm not sure if the plants and creatures are sure of what they're missing, when it comes, they buzz with gratitude and celebration.

The Crime of Inaction

Driving out to Anna Maria Island on Memorial Day, I saw every pump occupied at the BP station. I hated them for being blind. At the same time I wondered if the station was the pride of a small business owner who doesn’t have any more to do with the oil crisis than I do for purchasing gas. And even with a concerted conscience focused on punishing BP, I had stopped at one of their stations to fill my car up last week and realized it half after I had been standing at the pump for over 4 minutes.
The beach was beautiful. During a fast paced walk I enjoyed seeing the families sitting in the sand, a toddler sloppily carrying a full bucket of water to the tiny castle he was building, the brilliant layers of blue-green meeting the cloudless sky…

The knowledge of the big “it” out there—the spill that keeps coming out beyond what any of us can comprehend every minute, hour and day--was a weight for everyone on the shore.  Instead of carrying that heaviness with me, I said a prayer with every step in the surf. I had to feel that somehow my calling of all the Goodness that is seen and unseen would be heard.

Besides that imminent concern and small answer, this time of year I’m especially alert to the beach nesting birds. They depend on a clean beach, undisturbed dunes and the grace of God to hatch and raise their young. Every year, the number of successful least terns, black skimmer and snowy plovers diminishes. More harm that one can possibly imagine is done by the trash on the beach attracting predators, the quick footed tourists and locals who can’t be bothered to look where they step, and unknowing children who chase the energy strained adults mustering everything to feed their chicks.

I loved watching a skimmer dip in the shallow waves, following them in a line down the beach with a grace and precision hard to believe. Another one came. And another. On my walk back, I watched a young man with his girlfriend coming in the opposite direction. I misjudged him as one who couldn’t care less about a bird, but then I saw him turn. Stop. Watch the skimmer with a look of fascination. It made me smile and feel hopeful.

Approaching the entrance to the beach I used, it was impossible not to see a large area where a group had left over 30 bottles, cans, wrappers and used bottle of sunscreen. I felt sick. In the midst of the largest environmental disaster to ever face our country, here was a deliberate act of laziness and disregard for everything. Everything!

Even on Memorial Day? Our veterans sure as hell didn’t make their sacrifices so that Americans could treat our own country like a pig sty. Sick and angry, I collected as many pieces of trash as I could and went to the garbage bin. A couple settling down to sit in their chairs remarked about how angry it made them, yet when I returned with a bag from my car, they hadn’t lifted a finger.

I collected everything, putting the sandy refuse in a Whole Foods bag made from recycled bottles. I was pissed. I know from years of experience that some people will always litter. They’ll always have shameful behavior without being ashamed.

But what I wasn’t prepared for were countless groups of couples and families on the beach who would stay right where they were, watching. Just watching. It didn't occur to them to clean it up before, and seeing someone picking up the mess, it still didn't occur to them.

As they hear news of the oil spill at night, do they shake their heads with sadness, change the channel, or pray for the sportscast to come?

Do you know people who roll over on their beach blankets and look the other way. What is in their conscience? What's the difference between their inaction and the inaction of those who left the trash to begin with? I'm not sure there is a difference.

Spring at Emerson Point Preserve

Could I be any luckier to have the treasures of Emerson only 10 minutes from my house?  Between rain showers this morning, D-Man and I went for a walk along the upland and the mangrove trails with Flanders.

The Spring calls us from our indoor retreats and asks us to embrace the elements, the colors of lushness waiting to explode from budding branches and the birth of new ideas, new life.

Gropius Nonprofit Giveaway Results...Mothers Helping Mothers

And the winning comment--chosen by the Random Number Generator, my dears--is comment number 9: Mothers Helping Mothers.   This grassroots nonprofit organization offers baby items, cleaning supplies/personal hygiene products, crisis assistance, clothing from infants through teen sizes including maternity clothes, and shoes. And let me tell you, readers, there is so much need for this right now.

Thanks to Uncommon Blonde for submitting the winning comment, and thanks to you for caring enough to leave your own note about a nonprofit or cause that's dear to your heart. I've checked out the websites and suggestions you left and have loved visiting such diverse areas of charitable passions...all over the world!

If you're looking for some unusual gift ideas that really help your goodness shine, consider these two:

• Network for Good's "Good Card."  Here's how it works: you purchase a Good Card for any amount and your recipient can use it as a donation to the nonprofit(s) of their choice. VERY cool.
  
  
• Alternative Gifts International. Give a gift in honor of someone that changes a life around the world. Choose from humanitarian, environmental, health/ nutrition, women's issues projects, etc.
  

They'll both take good care of you with an e-card or a mailed card to your recipient.

Bird Teenagers

Bird teenagers. You've got to love them. They talk back, are disrespectful and think they know everything. I'm not even sure they appreciate everything you do for them.

This immature White Ibis is in the prime of its life and in fine form. Soon all of the brown feathers will turn to white, and he will officially be a man. He looks like a Ricky. Totally a Ricky. And so cooperative Ricky was in allowing me to take a few glamour shots at Robinson Preserve this morning. One day, he will look back on this day and understand what I tried to do for him.

The Bradentucky Christening

If you guessed this is a partially eaten chocolate creation, you would be right. If you also guessed that Husband was the one who left the teeth marks in place of her left breast, you would also be right. And finally, if you guessed that this little abomination was made by our neighbor's mother for her granddaughter's Christening, you would get a perfect score of 3/3.

Insults to your intelligence aside, my guess is that you probably earned a 2/3 score on this odd quiz. It's been my limited experience that the usual party favors for infants on auspicious occasions are a little more...traditional. You do know that we live in Bradentucky, Florida, right?

P.S. This writing took approximately 5 minutes. The "sort of" chocolate goddess has now vanished and is being digested. Not sure what it tasted like.

The Beach

Two same-sized swimmers stand with arms up
To embrace the impact of a coming wave

Broken shells in neutral colors
Tell the story of storms not long in the past

A woman with long black hair walks in the surf
Holding the hand of her daughter,
A miniature version of herself

Great blue heron steps cautiously in an angled trajectory
As an old man stumbles carelessly out of his swim
Destined to meet in an awkward crossing of paths

A pudgy boy pulls up his fleeing trunks
Over the exposed crack of his behind

"It was supposed to be a rainy day, all day long,"
said a passing lady to her lover.

The Bradentucky Version of Cheers

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. If you live in Bradentucky and you're over 70, that place is Bradenton Donuts.

Go there any day of the week, pull up to a swivel chair at the counter, order a coffee and any one of the multitude of donut varieties. You'll be treated like a regular at Cheers. After one trip, everyone will know your name. And your "usual" order. The nice folks who own the place and make the donuts are cheery, attentive and must have photographic memories.

I will warn you that if you're a baby boomer or younger, you'll be anything but usual in there. (It would be nice to get more younger folks coming. We stuck out like sore thumbs.)

It's also the one place I've ever seen where you can actually order a bowl of Raman noodles. (BONUS!) Next time you're in Bradentucky, check this local joint out. It's been in town forever.
Don't forget a pre-trip to the ATM; "cash only" still rules at Bradenton Donuts.

A Solemn Occasion at Joey D's

One of the best Bradentucky places to wind down with the fam after a long day is Joey D's, a locally-owned pizza joint right on U.S. 41 just north of Cortez. Great waitstaff, veggie and carnivorous food choices and always good 'ole, regular working folks in your company.

Tonight we ordered the worst artery-clogging offenders and played a few rounds of "A Solemn Occasion." Ever play this game? It's a family heirloom, passed down through generations on my father's side. We'll just use Gropius and Eddie to explain how you do it:

Gropius stares at Eddie and says in the most serious, monotone manner possible, "It's a solemn occasion, brother Eddie. It's a solemn occasion." And Eddie--staring back with utmost solemn intensity--gravely replies, "Yes it is, brother Gropius. Yes it is."

The two players must say the words very solemnly, extremely slowly, and utterly deliberately. The losing player is the one who cannot help but crack even a slight smile. I've found that it's much easier to play the Gropius part. The Eddie player almost always loses.

So, we challenge you to a game! It's perfect for play-fighting with co-workers, the opening exchange during a performance appraisal, or procrastinating on daily mundane tasks that really count. You just need a partner willing to go there. (Good luck.) We would start to worry about you if you tried it with a mirror.

Share your wealth, baby!

However cautious we may be about spending, our jobs and the possibility that the economy may go further down before a lasting upturn, our current personal situation is usually much better than it is for so many others. The truth is, many--not all--of us aren't really hurting. We're more affected by the perceptions and fears being circulated about possibilities that haven't yet touched us.

So here's a few ways to spread some of your blessings to others...and believe me, there's something to fit every wallet--even if it's only ten bucks or a few hours of your time. Some suggestions are:

• Getting your booty down to donate some time or energy to the food bank or Salvation Army. Here's a direct link to All Faith's Food Bank in Sarasota. If you contribute $1.00 to the All Faiths Food Bank, $.94 goes directly to the product and its distribution.
  
• Giving what you can to the Season of Sharing Fund, established to help families on the verge of homelessness. The money goes to agencies that disburse funds on an emergency basis. No red tape and no administrative fees. Every dollar goes directly to those in need. And you can choose whether your donation goes to Sarasota, Manatee, DeSoto or Charlotte County families.
  
• Purchasing holiday gifts from a really cool organization, Alternative Gifts International--a nonprofit group that works with organizations all over the world alleviating poverty, helping the environment, providing health care, etc. You can choose a very specific project with a very specific donation. Your gift recipient will receive a card explaining exactly what you purchased for them in their honor.

Just choose one...or do your own thing. But share the wealth, baby! The truth is, we never know when we'll find ourselves in a situation where we need a little help. If you think all people in distress are there through their own choosing or lack of responsibility, you may just have a little visit from Mr. Karma one day. Happy Thanksgiving!

Ellenton: You Should Try It

Realizing the claim to fame for Ellenton is its outlet mall, many of you may have been up that way but may not have checked out the little crossroads for all it's worth. In your next scuttle up to the Columbia, Anne Taylor, Chico's and Nike outlets, may I make a few additional recommendations?

Pack yourselves a lunch, folks, and explore. Today I took my second tour in 6 months of the Gamble Plantation. It's a walk back in mid-1800's SW Florida--and well worth the trip. Our guide was a high school history teacher who drives all the way from Clearwater to volunteer there every Sunday. She's a big history geek as you might imagine, but let me tell you, her tour was the bomb. There's not much in U.S. history she doesn't know. And she was a great storyteller.

While you have your shopping shoes on, why not support some of the local stores where items aren't made by little kids in factories? When you walk in The Mermaid's Attic (right across the street from the Gamble Plantation), you'll feel like melting into sleep with the calm blue and white decour. Almost everything is either made new locally, or is vintage, adorable and in great shape. Very reasonably priced. You can find jewelry, peaceful home furnishings, beautiful ceramic bowls and a stylish and conversational store owner from North Carolina.

The Earth Box Research Center, supplying portable gardens of fresh, healthy veggies, is right in Ellenton, just 1 minute from the Plantation. It's a great place to stop and find a unique gift for your fam and friends.

Haven't been yet? Make an afternoon of it, and bring someone with you. It's a great place to share.

Downtown Bradentuky is Down in the Dumps

Every now and then, I start to feel really bad about referring to my current hometown as "Bradentucky." But it certainly may be true that this name--derived from a reputation as the culture-free, hick stepchild of its posh southern cousin Sarasota--is well deserved.

Today, husband and I took a vacation day and decided to spend part of it on a walking trip through the streets of downtown Bradentucky. The most interesting things we came across were a patchouli-drenched incense store and a ginormous congregation of minnows swimming near the water's surface at the river front. While enjoying the tiny fish, we did get to witness the background conversation of three relaxed city employees spending over 30 minutes propping up a 2 foot tall, 1960's style Christmas ornament on the lawn.

Despite my (perhaps overly harsh?) assessment of downtown Bradentucky, there are a few things I'd recommend: The South Florida Museum, Art Center Manatee, and Mattison's Riverside. But if you seek people, culture, a cup of coffee in a bookstore, excitement (or basically anything a downtown might typically have), better check Sarasota or Anna Maria Island....um, or even Arcadia or Palmetto.

The Highlight of Today

I can't decide if it's...

• 2 seconds ago, when husband came in the room with a look of fear, desperately wanting me to pull off the 15 year old cowboy boots he tried on for the first time in forever and couldn't get off...OR
  
• The happy Verizon customer service rep who was thrilled to help me add more services but would not--could not--help me downgrade. (That's a separate number you have to call during the business week, thank you very much) ....OR


• The kayaking trip through Fort Hammer & the Manatee River.

I think I'll take the kayaking. The clouds were in wispy craziness across the sky, peeping migratory birds were conversing in inexplicable tongues while hidden in the tall grasses, and I got to lose myself and all worries in the entire landscape.

The lizard that hitched a ride inside the kayak from our backyard all the way to the river didn't even complain. I picture him sleeping soundly back in the overturned vessel outside the office window.

Seeking Qualified Applicants

Unmotivated individual with zero personality, lack of accountability and proficiency in making excuses sought to lead school. Prefer a male with demonstrated history of squishing creative, out of the box teaching methods. Must have proven track record of unresponsiveness to concerned parents and leading by example in the field of "do nothing, be nothing." Education: B.S. required. Piss ants are encouraged to apply. Deadline: December 1. Only applications received after this deadline will be considered.


Yes, my friends, this is the employment ad that at least two Manatee school principals answered, landing them jobs overseeing the educational institutions where our kids spend their Wonder years. I'm so over it. What's up with this?

I'm Getting a Little Creeped Out

If you know me, there's no doubt in your mind that I'm a big lover of reptiles (the real kind, not politicians). But when our news is filled with stories about escaped and thriving pythons, iguanas, tegus (look it up) and other scaled creatures from faraway lands...right here in Sarasota/ Bradenton...I get a little creeped out.

Of course the takeover first came to light for most of us when that debatable photo of an exploded python with alligator was released. We all learned that python pets-no-more are filling the glades, reproducing and taking names. It's pretty serious when you think about all of the native species that are being taken out. And personally, I really don't want to come across a python big enough to take a gator when I'm out trail blazing.

Now we know there are iguana invaders all over our islands and keys, gobbling up native birds, native herps and basically anything the right size. And they're really hard to catch (I mean the lizards).

According to this recent article in the Bradenton-Herald, a 10 foot python and tegu were recently captured (escaped pets) and provided to a local wildlife rescue organization for educational purposes. A quote from the article about the rescue org. representative: "Not only has he provided a home for both of them, but the snake now has a name too. We think Crosby the snake will be very happy in his new environment. "

Point #1: Yes, I'm happy Crosby is in a new environment too. Reptile owners, can you please be more responsible? With the number of iguanas running around on our islands and pythons taking over, there's a serious limit to orphanages for them, once captured--if captured.

Point #2: I'm intrigued by what this snake's name was before it was captured. I'm guessing it wasn't something like GW the snake, Fuzzy, or Henry. It must have been something really baaaad. Bradenton-Herald, please do a better job of answering the questions we want to know. Do I hear follow-up?