No More Birthday Blogs

Since 2008, on and off, and in the past more recent years, mostly on than off, I have been writing a birthday blog for people in my family. It’s a chance for me to look back at the kind of year they all have had, and to appreciate, in a more public way, all the blessings they bring to my life. 

It’s  a chance to sing their praises and hopefully outline the special-ness of each one of them. But it was mostly meant, selfishly, to give them a gift that is so hard to give on their exact birthdays, given that we are all so spread around the entire world on two continents. 

It’s not because I love them less. It’s not because I feel they are physically any closer to me than they ever were since 2008’ish when I started doing this, but starting this year, I am retiring my birthday blogs. I think the topic has run its course, for some reason. 

My sister said “Well, there is only so much you can say about one person, right?”. And it’s not even that. I will never run out of things to say about her klutz-iness, or my nephew’s obsession with money, or my other nephew’s love of kitties and puppies and all creatures, or my husband’s love of squirrels, for example ... But, at the very least for the sake of diversification, I felt like this would be the time to change course in what I give and to make future presents just as memorable ... Call it a “milestone kind of a year” change of course, if you will. 

This is by no means a hard line in the sand. Birthday blogs might make an appearance in the future. But it’s no longer a tradition that I want to follow here, anymore. 

I have always loved to give presents. I enjoy that infinitely more than I enjoy receiving them. And with that in mind, I am constantly revising how and what I give as presents. Starting with a couple of years ago, I have been putting much more thought into gifting experiences more than just things (thanks to a dear friend who reminded me of that).

Just like the birthday blog was not a material thing per se, I am giving away time together, or things that can be experienced with others, like concert tickets or trips ... I find that much more rewarding to myself as the giver, and I find that my family smiles more and enjoys them more, too. When looking back and remembering the memories, they are the gift that perpetually will keep on giving, every time we recount it. 

You might ask “why is a present needed at all?”. But the answer to that is easy: dad always told us to take the time and celebrate special moments in special ways. He took it a bit too far (he would throw a 5-course dinner party for 20+ people every time he bought something new like a car, a fridge or when he got a new job), but he always dressed up for the occasion, stopped, and celebrated a milestone - birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, saints’ feasts (or name days), you name it. I happen to share his view on this. A present, to me, is part of that celebration. 

I hope the new gift-giving will be just as welcome, surprising, and well-awaited as the former birthday blogs were ... 

With that in mind, I wish everyone in my family, happy birthdays ahead, for many, many healthy years to come! And may we all enjoy every special moment together, as much as we enjoy making arrangements to do so ...

Thank you for the memories, old, and the ones I am anxiously awaiting to make together in the years to come ...

71 de toamne

Cu tine în minte pășim împreună în cel de-al 71-lea an al vieții tale ... Cu tine de mână mă îndrept înspre ziua de maine. Cu speranță, cu dorința fierbinte de mai bine, de mai ușor ... 

De ziua ta mă coplesesc amintirile. Bucuria imensă pe care ți-o aducea fiecare concediu la mare.  Bucatele minunate pe care le pregăteai la sfârșitul fiecărei zile (abia așteptam să deschizi seara ușa de la camera noastră să ne întrebi “Cartofi prăjiți? Sau piure?”). Plimbările pe faleza de la Constanța - la deal și la vale pană se întuneca de-a dreptul și nu mai vedeam marea, doar îi auzeam ecoul ... 

Mereu am iubit gropițele din obrajii tăi slăbuți, și ochii tăi minunați în care se deschide parcă tot cerul ... Am iubit întotdeauna dragostea ta de adevăr, dreptatea, și directitudinea și onestitatea desăvârșite. Am iubit până și cicatricea ta adâncă de pe piept - în secret îmi doream și eu una și pană la urma viața mi-a daruit-o și mie. Un semn de durere dar și de tărie ... 

Mi-aduc aminte ce multă fericire îți aducea tata și ce imensă era dragostea dintre voi, chiar și în zilele cele mai grele ... Mi-aduc aminte de mulți ani frumoși, de seri în familie unde urmăream cu toții vreun serial sau când jucam cu toții Rummy sau tu cu tata, table ... Viața era grea în afară, dar ușoară între noi, pentru că apropierea și dragostea erau mari ... Asta țin cu mine, în inimă cât voi trăi! 

Când viața era mai ușoară, poate, 

și poate fără prea multe griji ...

Trăiesc din amintirile astea zilnic și nu-mi doresc nimic mai mult decât să ne ofere viața în continuare oportunități în care să ne facem altele, noi amintiri, din capitole noi care ni se deschid abia de acum înainte. 

Te iubesc, mama, mai mult decât orice cuvânt din orice limbă poate să descrie. Mi-ai dat onestitatea și puterea ta, chiar dacă nu mi-ai dat gropitele și nici culoarea ochilor. Te iubim cu toții și vrem să ne trăiești sănătoasă și fără griji în continuare ... 

La mulți ani sănătoși, cu putere și ușurință ... 

Sweet 16

I just finished reading the blog post I wrote the day you were born (https://wander-world.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-heart.html). And this reminds me: you are part of this generation that lived your entire life on the internet. Between blogs and Facebook and Instagram and Snapchat - your life has been thoroughly documented somewhere ... 

There is not much more to say that has not been shown or said, is there?! Only you make sure that there is ... You are a growing boy - a boy? Not anymore. But not quite a man yet, to paraphrase a famous song. A growing boy (to me, you’ll always be a boy) with endless resources to grow, surprise, learn, shock, inform, and remind us that there is no boring minute when you’re watching a child come of age. So, there is so much more to say, still! 

Today, you are reaching a milestone. There was one year, and then three, and then five, and then seven, and ten. And now, it’s 16. It’s that sweet but also bitter time when you want to hang on to your innocence but life and people have other plans for you. You had small bites of real life so far, but they were more or less spent under the watchful eyes of your parents and family. From now on, you will need to figure out how to look for life opportunities and show us what you’ve learned. Will you remember everything we taught you? Will you know when to apply all the teachings we’ve all imparted so you can make better choices than we ever made?!  Time will have to tell and we’re waiting with baited breath for you to show us ... 

I hope that you’ll never lose your sense of humor, fun and partly your innocence, but that you’ll be able to also make really good and everlasting choices starting today. I hope that you will slowly but surely come into your own mature self - into a good, serious, reliable, and more than anything kind human being. I truly hope so ... I truly wish you so ... 

On this celebratory day, I am grateful for every minute I have ever spent in the past 16 years thinking and praying for you, and for every minute we spent together ... We never know what will come, but I always cherish what we already have: 

My wedding day ...

Watching you learn woodworking and teaching you knitting ....

Watching you cook  your first breakfast... 

Making your own art ... (I wish you’d remember your talent!) ... 

Writing your first computer game ... (yeah, whatever happened to that?!) ... 

Crossing Lake Ontario to Toronto Island together in search of peace ...

Touring Casa Loma ... 

Taking you to your first dip into the Atlantic Ocean when we were barely a year old ... 

You introducing me to beaver tails (you created a monster!) ... 

I’ll always have these memories, and more: taking you to your first baseball game, musical, and your first spinning restaurant. And not to forget: watching our first ever total solar eclipse together - surely a first and who knows - maybe the only one. 

You might never be a little boy with Spiderman facepaint in the middle of summer ever again - but I hope we will always continue to build memories together, small treasures of boxed time that we can cherish forever ... 

I wish you all the happiness in the world, but more than that - I wish you wisdom and kindness! With them, happiness will come. 

Happy birthday, sweet Pat! Enjoy your day and may the new year ahead be the best one yet! Here’s to strong, peaceful, happy beginnings! 

Much love ... 

I treasure every face, I remember every year, looking forward for more milestones to come ...

A Birthday for the Books

We are broken and stranded today.

We are lonely and drifting aimlessly in a sea of doubt. 

We sleepwalk through every challenging day like ghosts or mummies, stiff and gloomy. 

It's nice out - way too nice for a February day: snowdrops are on sale on every street in this old Moldovan town, people are wearing their thick coats wide open, or on their arms ... There is a smell of spring in the air, of new life, of new hope, but our heads down in our problems, we barely notice ... 

I have no presents. I have no card. I have no food nor plan for where it might come from on your special day ... 

My heart cries because you deserve so much more. You deserve everything. You deserve the world and the moon and the stars, all the kittens and puppies of the world, all in one neat package, tied with a green bow. Like your favorite color, like the Montana pines, like your eyes ... 

We are hurt. And we are drifting. We are lost, truly. Far from home and with no definite map of where to next ... 

But most than anything, more than any of all the material things we are not, we are together. We are drifting, but we are drifting together … I can reach out across the bed, across the table, across the pavement when we walk the streets and feel you there. And my world is whole again. My dark hours light up like the skies during a Northern Lights exposure. Amazing, beautiful, hopeful. I hear your voice first thing in the morning and I know I can tackle it all. I see you smile at our kitten's picture and I know you're the one. 

There are no words in any amount of dictionaries that can explain how much I love you and how much I worship the day you were born. February has brought me and us a lot of tragedy, a lot of pain, but all is forgiven because it has also brought you. 

I am not even sure if I would be here today without you, without your care and your unwavering love, but if I were, I would be even more lost and more dark and more desperate than I am now ... 

I know this is not a happy birthday - not in the wholesome sense of this word - but I wish you a birthday where you know how happy you make me and others by just being in the world. My family, your mom, your friends love you and are ever grateful for putting color in their lives and smiles on their faces. And me - you build me up; you hold me; you heal me when I am cracked; you catch me when I fall. You are everything, Mr. Aa. And I can only hope I can be an iota of all that for you... 

Try to enjoy today and let's make it amazing the first time we get a chance for a do-over, hopefully soon. I love you! 

Happy February 27th! 

When I picture us the happiest, I picture us like this.

From Many Moons Ago

I remember that evening and later the night like it was yesterday ... The details that I might not be remembering I’ll make up and they might still fit ... I remember the air, the night, the pretend story, the party afterwards, dancing till almost dawn, our youth ... 

It was a warm summer evening in Costinești, Romania, on the Black Sea coast - the kind of summer evening where the air sticks to your skin like honey. In our rental house, we finished getting dressed, our skins hurting from too much sun (or at least mine was),  and then wandered off onto the streets in search of some entertainment for the night. It was you, me, my sister, your brother, and some other friends ... 

Our rental place was a crammed room in a house inland. All the fun stuff was on the beach, about a 20 minute walk or so. This was back in the day when we didn’t mind walking for 20 minutes ... 

It was 1996, I believe, or maybe another year later than that?! At any rate, you and my sister were teenagers. I was in college, but an old soul myself - maybe too old for my own good (wasn’t I ever?). I was the college student, older sister who mocked everything you young'uns were up to with an air of superiority (I know, some things never change, eh?). 

We eventually reached the beach, with its promenade area, where all the tourists were strolling, eating summer street treats (kebabs, ice-cream, fresh waffles), people-watching and flirting ... Costinești was a young people’s town, so I don’t remember many families with kids or older married people. I remember many dance clubs, most of them outdoors, lots of bars and restaurant patios. It was a teenage and young adult heaven and we, I suppose, fit right in ... 

We started walking from the house at dusk, but by the time we made it to the promenade, it was full-blown dark ... 

In the midst of the promenade area, somewhere at the edge of the beach, with its back towards the water, there was this two or three-wall  shack advertising to be a “Registry office” where lovers, couples, or even people who had just met could “get (mock) married”. The officiant would help you read your vows, they would pronounce you husband and wife and even give you a glass of champagne and a marriage certificate. You were 17. My sister was maybe 18. You both had just started dating that year (if indeed the year was 1996) ... 

And you both wanted to “get married”. I was mortified! I was thinking of all sorts of bad omen signs that this might bring. What if you’re tempting fate? What if you’re never going to get (really) married when the time might come in your future? What if something would happen to one of you and at least one of you won’t make it till the “real” time when you should get married, in “real” life? I cannot remember what I said but I do remember that in my mind, I was definitely not on board with this ... 

However, one thing I do remember that I thought right away: I knew right then and there that you loved my sister. I knew that if a kid of 17 can sign up, even in jest, even pretense-fully for such a commitment, that if a kid of 17 does not think that marriage might make him un-cool to his friends and little brother ... I knew the only explanation was that this was really, truly love ... And right then and there I knew, you were there in our lives to stay and care for my sister ... And I knew she loved you back. Totally, unconditionally and unreservedly ... And I was grateful for you two finding each other ... 

Happy birthday, friend, brother, and father to my only nephews! Thanks for always keeping your commitment to my sister - even from way back when it was just a child’s play to the rest of the world ... 

Congratulations! Or "casa de piatra"!

A Teenager. A Funny Guy. In His Own Words.

Because this world is a dark place and because we all need a smile, here are just some of the musings you have entertained us with in the past year: 

Kevin: Do we have to have dinner with this person at the table?

His mom: So what if she were to have dinner with us at the table? She is just people. Just like you! 

Kevin: Yeah, but I hate people! 

*

Kevin (looking at the picture of a friend’s new baby): I don’t want to be a babyist, but he looks just like any other baby.

His mom:: What is a ‘babyist’?

Kevin: It’s someone who is generalizing that all babies look alike.

*

Kevin, on trying Chick-fil-A for the first time, as he is eating his sandwich and fries: Chick-fil-A makes McDonalds look like a soup kitchen … Anyone have more fries?

*

Kevin: I am gonna marry someone from the Chick-fil-a family and become its CEO. And then, I'll commence the world-wide colonization of Chick-fil-a so every country will have it. (he pauses for dramatic effect). Yes, I am not gonna START it. I am gonna COMMENCE it! This is how you know it's for real!

*

Kevin to me, when he came to visit me: Coming to see you is not a chore. It’s a gift. 

*

Me: I am already fat. 

Kevin: Oh, my God! You and my mom are the most delusional people in the world! You are both already skinny! (such a sweet nephew, ain’t he?!)

*

Kevin (insisting that the family should keep the tradition of decorating cookies for Christmas): We are never too old for Christmas. 

*

Around the holidays, when it was raining in Montreal, he says:  What’s with all this rain?! It’s supposed to snow in December. I feel scammed by Canada.

Happy birthday, funny little man! You’re an official teenager now (God help us), but always a little man to me! 

Hope you’re having a fun day and, even better, a fun ride for the next 6 or so years of teenage-hood! It’ll be a wild ride, I am sure.  

Love your life! We love you! 

La 70 de Ani - o Retrospectivă

Sascut, județul Bacău, 21 septembrie 1953. O zi de toamnă, probabil blândă și senină în care albastrul nepătat al cerului urma să se reverse în ochii tăi care abia se deschideau către lume. 

Maia a zis că te-ai născut după o nuntă la care venise din Timișoara, unde locuiați atunci, doar pentru un weekend. Dar viața nu te-ntreabă când vrei să vii - așa cum nu te întreabă când vrei să pleci. Soarta a vrut să fii născută în Moldova, vatra străbunilor tăi, chiar dacă părinții trăiau la celălalt colț de țară la acea vreme. 

Erau frământări mari în lume, în 1953 - Stalin abia murise, războiul din Coreea se termina și americanii plecau acasă cu coada între picioare. Așa cum o vor face de repetate ori de atunci înainte. Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej era prim-ministrul Republicii Populare Române și încă nu se transformase în oraș. 1953 pare cu o veșnicie în urmă. Dar sunt de fapt doar 70 de ani!

E mult? E puțin? Mie mi se pare cât o clipă! 

Mă strădui sa găsesc cuvinte potrivite pentru așa o ocazie de imensă! Și mărturisesc că mi-e greu. Cum sa sumezi doar în câteva cuvinte omul care ți-a dat viață și fără de care nu ai fi existat? Dar încerc sa merg înapoi pe drumul memoriei și să pun pe hârtie (virtuală) câteva gânduri despre cea mai importantă femeie din viața mea! 

Ai fost cu mine toată viața mea, de la prima răsuflare și până azi. Și în zi de celebrare mi-aduc aminte de toate zilele frumoase și de cele mai puțin frumoase pe care le-am împărtășit. Pentru că viața nu e făcută doar din fericire. Amar și tristețe există pentru a ne aminti cât de sfinte și binecuvântate sunt zilele senine! Așa e rostul lumii ... decis de o putere mai mare decât noi. 

Serbările de sfârșit de an când îmi făceai coronița pentru premiul întâi. Zilele toride de vară când mergeam la mare și mă forțai să stau la plajă ca “să prind culoare”. Serile reci și întunecate de iarnă, când eram prin clasa întâi și mă învățai să împletesc: “un ochi pe față, unul pe dos.” 

Lecțiile de viață pe care mi le dădeai de obicei în bucătărie unde petreceai cea mai mare parte din timpul în care nu erai la servici. Mai ales mi-aduc aminte când mi-ai dat să curăț primul meu morcov, când locuiam la Târgu Frumos. Țin minte cum m-ai avertizat că sigur o să mă tai și că trebuie să fiu atentă. Eu, încăpățânată cum sunt, am zis că nu mă tai, lasă-mă să curăț eu. Și bineînțeles că m-am tăiat. Dar am învățat cum să țin un cuțit de atunci. Și așa ai fost mereu: alături de mine, veghind, îndrumând, dar dându-mi libertatea să încerc viața în felul meu. 

Mi-aduc aminte multele excursii pe care le-am făcut împreună, când am mers împreună la Durău când am terminat clasa a 10-a în care ai mers doar din întâmplare, fără a planui dinainte. Apoi toate excursiile în America atunci când ai venit să vezi viața pe care mi-am făcut-o aici: Myrtle Beach, Atlanta, Las Vegas, Monument Valley, Parcul Arcurilor din Utah, Barajul de la Hoover Dam, Salt Lake City, cutreierând cramele și degustând vinuri în Carolina de Nord și Virginia ... Când ai venit la Summerfield și l-ai crescut pe Gypsy dintr-o mână de pisic. Gypsy pe care de fapt tu l-ai și “botezat”. Când ai venit în Utah și m-ai vegheat la spital, după operația de inimă.  Amintiri de neuitat care mi se par ca s-au întâmplat ieri ... 

Astăzi, de ziua ta, când vremurile ți se par triste, când marea dragoste a vieții tale te veghează de sus, și nu din dreapta ta, îți aduc aminte că ești înconjurată de dragostea noastră. Nu putem aduce niciodată trecutul în prezent și nu-l putem duplica în viitor. Tot ce putem face este să privim înainte, și să încercăm să creăm în continuare amintiri frumoase împreună. 

Maia ne spunea ca te-ai nascut dansând, a doua zi după o nuntă. Așa aș vrea să te vedem mereu: dansând și zâmbind și bucurandu-te de muzică, de familie, de viață ...  

Mom, te iubim mai mult decât o pot spune în cuvinte. Când mă uit la cei 70 de ani (48 dintre ei din amintire, și restul din poveștile altora) sunt uimită de câte au trecut peste tine și prin câte ai trecut, fizic, psihic, și emoțional. Cât de mult te-ai schimbat și totuși cât de mult ai rămas aceeași femeie frumoasă, puternică, și de bază care ai fost mereu - un exemplu de tenacitate, ambiție, inteligență, circumspecție, și onestitate. 

Sper din tot sufletul că astăzi să te uiți în urmă și să nu plângi după toată fericirea care a fost odată și care poate ți se pare astăzi estompată, ci să te bucuri că ești alături de cei care te iubesc, și să zâmbești la gîndul posibilităților vieții care vor veni ... 

Ce a fost nu mai poate fi, dar astăzi deschizi o nouă decadă, un nou capitol, și îți dorim să-l umpli cu speranță, sănătate, și lumină ... 

Acuma când la multele atribute ți se adaugă și înțelepciunea, sper să o folosești pentru a-ți găsi în continuare făgașul tău spre zile bune, ca să ne bucuri mulți, mulți ani de acum înainte cu prezența ta minunată, precum o floare de câmp supraviețuiește extraordinar furtunilor și rămâne mereu verticală,  învingătoare și parcă mai proaspătă, în câmpul dur și aspru al vieții.  

Te iubim și vrem sa te știm puternică așa cum ai fost mereu ... Uită-te în adâncul inimii tale și găsește comoara de neprețuit care ești ... și care ne ești tuturor ... 

La mulți ani! 

16 aprilie 2010 - ziua cea mai fericită din viața mea, ziua nunții.
Te iubesc! 

Every Day Is a First. And So Is Today.

You know when you are too close to someone, or to some thing ... you can no longer really see all their details anymore? Nor can you appreciate all their intricacies, quirks, charm, uniqueness? You feel like you’re too close to them to be impartial? You’re too close to them to know ... do they have blue eyes or green? Do they roll their Rs or have a lisp?  - it takes you a minute to know for sure ... 

This is how I feel about you: you consume my every thought every single second of every day. Every minute, I think or wonder: what is she up to today? I wonder what crazy file does she have to wrestle with today that would throw her in the midst of stress and frenzy? What worries will she face today? How can I make her smile more? How can I surprise her more (for I know how you much you love surprises - just about as much as I hate them!) 

I asked myself a rhetorical question today: what can I possibly say about you today, for your birthday, that I have not said before? I feel like every thought I ever had about you has been spent. Every word - uttered. Every feeling - expressed. No surprises and no novelty here. Until Aa. blurted out: “She is 45!” - and I laughed out loud! Yep! “A. is 45” has never, till today, been said before ... 

When did this happen? 45 years ago today, while I was at the beach with our grandparents, walking the streets, you were born many miles away in our home town. They told me when I would get home, I would have a sister and I did not understand, at 3 years and 4 months, what that exactly meant. When I did get home, I asked them all if you were going to spend the night. That shows you how smart I was ... 

But you did spend the night. And every night after that, thank God! And you became part of the family and slowly part of me, too! Your presence, your being, your antics and your life ... became part of mine too. 

I think what amazes me, still, 45 years later is how different we are and yet how common our lives have been. We grew together, almost twinned,  branches from the same trunk, but turned out so incredibly different. Just like branches feeding from the same life-giving water, we twisted in different directions, we grew a different number of twigs (me - none, and you - two), we turned different directions (you - North, and me - South), we bloomed at different times (you - early, and me - late), we will most certainly turn to fall at different ages, too ... I grew out tough and gnarly, you - thin, slender, flexible like the draping branches of a willow. Both, beautiful and strong, but also both singular in who we are ... 

We have faced so much together, in our own time and on our own path. But I never, for one second, ever felt like you were too far away from me. This past year has been so hard! So incredibly hard. And although I thought I knew everything there was to know about you, and about us, I have learned so much more, still. I have learned how much unassumingly stronger (than me) you are. How much more poised and dignified, to my erratic, crazy mess! You have revealed a new sorela to me - I would not say that it’s one I never knew was there, but one that I only guessed that must be dormant, lurking in the darkness, ready to come out when the time was right. And the time for strength, for ultimate, desperate strength, did come this year. And for you sharing it with me, I will thank you forever ... 

Happy 45th, Sorela! I wish you many clear mornings with strong coffee and kitty cuddles. Sunny days, as sunny as your own outlook on life. Many runs in dewy meadows, downhill and bug-free. Many days of health and lightness - in body, in spirit, in laughter ... I wish the good and easy parts in you would never change nor spoil. I wish life, no matter how hard, would never harden you. And I wish you’ll know that every day, every second of every day, I am here for you to gladly lighten the load if I can, and just like one branch supports the other, to ask for you to catch me if I am fixin’ to bend. 

I remember today more than ever what our parents have always told us: when they will be no longer, we will have each other. This promise on their part seemed but a dream till recently. But after this past year, I am starting to see that day more and more clearly come into focus now, and I am so incredibly grateful that you will be there to hold me up! You’re the only human that knows my past and my soul as well as I do. You’re the only one who speaks the same unspoken language I think and feel. 

I wish you the strength, the lightness, the youth of your first 45 years for the next 45 and beyond! 

I love you more. Now, and always. 

A Bit of Everything: St. Petersburg, FL

St. Petersburg, FL is a city on water. It sits on the Pinellas peninsula between Tampa Bay and the Gulf of Mexico, and is connected to mainland Florida to the north.

I finally managed to string a few thoughts together after our trip there about a month ago. 

• On our first morning in St. Pete (as we have learned that everyone calls it), we went to The Hangar restaurant for breakfast. Appropriately named, it is perched above a small private airport, where planes take off right from under your plates. I actually know someone who lives in Florida and not only owns their small private plane, but they built it themselves (former airline pilots, now retired). Yeah, Florida does seem sometimes like the land of all possibilities, until you check out their politics (I could not help but notice that there is even a “Fox” car rental place in the Tampa airport. No joking!). I was just fascinated how much traffic that small airport displayed in just less than an hour while we were eating our fresh fruit. And Florida does have really good fresh fruit! 

• At the restaurant, we had a very cranky waitress. She was fine and all till the hostess placed two small children with their grandmas (who reminded me of Grace and Frankie: one, in a posh pair of pressed pants, and the other in a Dali “surrealist” shirt and a flower-pattern Hawaiian pair of baggy pants) in her section, right next to our table. She hurried to get the kids’ order ready first, saying that “She tried to be fast so they have something to keep them busy for a bit.” One of the grandmas is impressed and says “Wow! You must have kids of your own. You know how to handle them!” to which the waitress says with a frown: “No, I don’t have any. I actually very much dislike kids.” Mic drop! I have been accused of being bluntly honest myself, but dang! 

• The cranky was everywhere in Florida, I might add: the hotel receptionist was flustered when someone came to grab a drink from the fridge at the front desk and asked them to add it to their room tab (why? isn’t this how it works?!). Then, the receptionist told us that to get our valet to drive our car around, we should text this number (showing it to us on a piece of paper), and “they sometimes answer it.” I was confused. So, sometimes we won’t get our car back (the parking was valet only). Another hotel guest confirmed in the elevator that “yeah, you need to call and then come down and wait for at least 20-30 minutes and sometimes they need reminders even after that. But they will eventually get your car.  Good times!” - she added. I was beginning to wonder where the “Southern hospitality” lives in Florida?! Definitely not in the ... umm ... “hospitality” industry. 

• We did run into this sweet hostess at the Dali museum, right after we stepped in. She advised us, unsolicited, where we could go and start the guided tour through the museum with a docent. This proved to be a really nice experience as the docent walked the galleries with us, sharing real-life stories about Dali and explaining the paintings through that realistic frame. This docent was one of the most memorable parts of the trip: she could not have been more than 4ft 11in in height, with a voice as quiet as a whisper, and she must have been at least 100 years of age! And this is no exaggeration. She was using a walker and her small frame was bent over by age and osteoporosis. Her fingers crooked and gnarly. She was frail in stature and physique, but so sharp in mind and humor. At times, she made the stories about Dali eating cheese on the Parisian sidewalks and watching the bull fights so real that we were thinking she must have been there and witnessed these moments herself. 

There are details like these that make travels unforgettable. The museum was everything I was looking forward to: originality, breathlessness to be in the same room with some of the most amazing works of art of all centuries. But the docent, the Avant-garden where we had a small pastry snack on the persistence of memory bench, were details that punctuated it with uniqueness and gave it a vivid contour, all ours.

Various scenes from The Dali Museum. Standing in front of "The Ecumenical Council" (and so many others) was a "bucket list" moment for me

I could not peel myself away from the trompe-l'œil of the "Gala Contemplating the Mediterranean Sea which at Twenty Meters Becomes the Portrait of Abraham Lincoln" painting. I just could not figure out "how he did that" ...

(For full effect, click the picture to enlarge it, then look carefully at it by squinting your eyes. After a while you will see that the window becomes Lincoln's portrait.)

• If in Arizona, we had the best experience with foods - availability and diversity everywhere - in St. Petersburg we had some spotty encounters.
  We were hard pressed to find a breakfast place on Sunday morning (which was also my birthday as well as Easter). After striking out on several places that could not place us or offered to place us after a minimum of two hours, we ended up having breakfast at Starbucks! And what do you know: even Starbucks was out of bagels. 

• We wanted to try out what seemed to be a more off-the-beaten-path breakfast place called Bacon Bitch. Seriously - who would not want to eat in a place by this name?! But as we were waiting to be seated, I saw one of the waitresses smoking in the kitchen as she was rearranging her shorts and ponytail while she cleaned out the edges of the plates with her spare hand before taking them to the customers in the dining room. I was hungry, but umm ... Nope ... Sorry, Bacon Bitch: clever name, but you lost me! Literally.  

• We did find a couple of good food places. Frenchy’s Outpost in Dunedin had the fresh seafood you expect from a seashore town. The Teak restaurant is a show stopper: it is at the very end of the St. Pete Pier and a feat of architectural design. It looks like a spaceship waiting for lift-off. Although the food was remarkable (they had replaced their regular seafood menu with “Easter”-inspired dishes, so it was more mashed potatoes and ham and less seafood gumbo), the view is why it’s worth the trek. Best views of the water and of the bay towards the city that we could find. The sunset over St. Pete was stunning, even on a cloudy day. 

Scrumptious claws at Frenchy's Outpost

Various views of and from The Teak restaurant, on the St. Pete Pier

• We visited the Chihuly Collection at the Morean Arts Center on one of the days. The Chihuly pieces were amazing, as we expected, but what was truly memorable was the glass-blowing demonstration we watched after visiting the museum. Glass blowing is not only an amazing feat of human skill and ingenuity, but there is also so much science - particularly chemistry, physics and biology that goes into it - and those were explained in detail. Made me want to call my nephews and ask them to make sure they stay in school and won’t skip their science classes ever. They will be useful for something. One day! 

Glass blowing demonstration at the Morean Arts Center

Ceiling in the hallway at the Chihuly Collection

• I am glad to see more and more mural art in many of the towns and cities we visit. I have always liked murals and even tasteful graffiti art - it’s always surprising the amount of talent and thought that goes into creating them and really gives the flavor and tone of a particular city. And St. Pete is another one of these “mural cities”. 

Just a small sample of the much mural art adorning the walls of St. Pete's buildings

• St. Petersburg seemed like a mish-mash of a variety of styles, really: I would say that here, modern meets art deco meets traditional Southern charm. In terms of vegetation, palm trees, live oak and Spanish moss dress up the avenues. A bit of the tropics line up the St. Pete Pier parks. If you really want to take in the tropics, the Sunken Gardens has them on display! You get lost in the tropical forest there, with no hope of finding your way back. 

Small glimpses of Eden at the Sunken Gardens

• We had a lunch snack at the Doc Ford’s Rum Bar and Grille right at the pier. The place was an absolute zoo on a holiday (there is definitely no Covid19 anymore, folks!), but The Eagles (who we had just seen in concert in Greensboro only 4 days before our trip) music was blasting and our waiter, Patrick, knew how to serve up pina coladas and yummy crab cake appetizers. 

Beach fare at Doc Ford's Rum

• Not sure if this is all of Florida, but at least St. Petersburg on a busy, warm afternoon in the blazing sun is a pure stench cocktail:  the smells of the ocean, salt, sewage, and sweat mix together in the most distinctive odor. 

• The area around the St. Pete Pier reminded me of so many other public touristy piazzas where jokers, dancers, mimes, religious orators trying to save your soul merge to remind you that this world is nothing but Babylon redone: we saw  people walking a tightrope as they were practicing yoga in a park, people stringing hammocks from palm trees on the bay, and a crowd of people dancing on club techno music, as if in a reinvented version of the 1990’s MTV’s Spring Break shows. 

• You know you’re in Florida when you drive on what seems to be a highway but you see nothing but water all around you, not a lick of civilization, for miles on end. Only in Florida do you drive endlessly on ... water. We saw this sign while getting ready to drive on one of the many bridges that read: “Long bridge ahead. Check gas.” And I thought running out of gas in the middle of the desert in Utah would be bad ... 

This was a weekend of strange coincidences. As coincidences go, you never know what they mean. You just notice, if barely: we went to St. Petersburg for my birthday which is 4/9 - or 9/4 in Europe. The entire weekend, these two numbers kept popping up everywhere:

• The Starbucks we finally had a small breakfast at on 4/9 was at the corner of 4th St N and 9th Ave N. Its address was 900A 9th Ave N. 

• When I woke up that morning, I had 9 tabs open on my google app.

• Chihuly’s Macchia Forest collection has 9 pieces in it.

• At the end of the day, I had walked 4.09 miles, according to my watch.

• Our departure gate was number 90. The very last one. 

Chihuly’s Macchia Forest with the 9 pieces

Seeing the Dali museum was the purpose of this trip and that did not disappoint. Everything else was just the cherries on top. 

Sunset over St. Pete, as seen from The Teak restaurant on the St. Pete Pier