Miami - The Long Goodbye

October 27, 2024

As I sat on the balcony of our beloved Miami condo for the very last time, I couldn’t help but think about fate, about destiny, about a convergence of life happenings that brought me there. Decades ago I moved to Miami to advance my career in television production. Ironically, I only stayed at that job position for 1 year but ended up staying 9 more, partnering with Brian and Kevin of Forti/Layne Entertainment producing, editing and co-directing so many wonderful projects.

Our most spectacular view from the balcony.

Obviously, I racked up hundreds of experiences during that decade. However, for this story to come full circle I want to focus on the night I went to a party at a building that jutted out into Biscayne Bay. I have crystal clear images of that night;

meeting at my best friend, Emilce’s house, downing some pre-party cocktails
packing into a car with a group of friends singing to Santana’s “Maria, Maria”
pulling up to the grand building tucked back off the busy, kinda seedy main street of Biscayne Blvd.
the warm wind that gusted off the bay as we entered that forced us to walk with leaned intention
the spectacular water view from the apartment
and finally the seed planted in my brain that I would live there one day

Biscayne 21 as it was known. Located at 21st Street and North Bayshore Drive off Biscayne Blvd and jutting out into Biscayne Bay.

Fast forward a decade, I moved back to NY having never lived in that building of my dreams while actually living in Miami. I settled back into New York living by buying my first co-op and moving in with my now husband, Juancarlos. Then 2 years later by absolute luck…AKA fate, an apartment in that very building came available. So, I bought it sight unseen. That is how much I wanted to be there.

Our beloved southern home, at just the right height, just the right location, just the perfect view. Just perfect.

After the closing, keys in hand, I pushed open the door that turned my purchase from wishful dream to glorious reality.

Not a lick of substantial furniture, armed only with an air mattress and some linens. It was all I needed to feel at home.

At first, we rented the apartment full time thinking it would be an investment property, and then eventually turn into a retirement pied a terre. But after awhile Juancarlos and I realized we wanted this place all to ourselves. Now after 20 years, we were forced out. The greedy glut of overbuilding and erecting enormous monstrosities has bought us out. A developer will tear down the quaint 15 story building to replace it with not 1 but 3 towers of 53 floors each! Yet another part of Miami history turned to rubble. If you have ever seen the movie “Something About Mary” then you have seen our building. It was the one to the left of the singers on the final scene. And oh yeah, they tore down the historic beautiful house that Mary lived in to construct an obnoxiously tall building that used to block the sun on our pool. But what can you do, fight city hall? So, we sold off most of the furnishings, gave away some, packed up the rest and drove back to NY with our memories in tow.

Even with clouds the days were beautiful.

Miami represents a million things to me. My first venture out of my native NY to pursue a career in live television. Being away from my beloved family and all our gatherings. Buying my first car, having 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms all to myself. No more elevator to the basement to wash my clothes, I had a washer/dryer all to myself and only having to deal with my lint, and no one else’s. Meeting new friends that would last a lifetime, Winning awards for my production work. Meeting my husband, being proposed by him in Miami. Having a second wedding celebration there for our friends who couldn’t/didn’t want to fly after 9/11, honeymooning in Miami and the Keyes and so much more. We have hundreds upon hundreds of photos, and I will do my best to inundate you with images so you too can be wrapped in the warm glow that tugged at my heart.

Engagement Party smiles. Juancarlos proposed to me in Miami two weeks before September 11.

It was a second home, and as such we welcomed our family and friends. For many years, my parents would spend the entire month of February there. Sometimes we would join them and spend precious moments together, by the pool, at the beach, but mostly eating. Who doesn’t enjoy a good meal with the people who bring you joy?

Since Miami had such meaning to us from a marriage point of view, we used to go down in October to celebrate our anniversary. And of course, we would meet up with friends or invite them over for nibbles and drinks, laughter and good cheer. We celebrated not just anniversaries but many a birthday as well, with our dearest fra-mily. Our home was small but mighty in the joy it provided.

Birthday celebration with framily, during a February visit when my parents were down. See my dad in the background? On this occasion our friends, John & George, hosted at that fabulous house.

From an uncomplicated lifestyle, to enough room to entertain, to a view that never got old, only got better. It fulfilled my every dream from decades prior.

The sunrise that warms our souls and inspired us to get up and get out.

Midday beauty. Nature’s artistry at work.

Reflections. Even the tall buildings provided interesting views.

At night the glow provided a different kind of warm.

A glow that filled not just the sky, but my heart.

One sure way of knowing when I’m comfortable and completely at home is preparing and enjoying meals. And boy, did we do that. If I have a kitchen, I will be stirring up some food of love. Every morning we would take our coffee & breakfast to watch the sun rise. Every late afternoon after a day at the beach we would make a healthy meal and eat on the balcony. In the evening, a cocktail or wine and watch the lights brighten the skyline. It was endless joy.

Sun rays reaching towards us to welcome us to another picture perfect day.

Here is a smorgasbord of food offerings over the years.

I’ve even had the great fortune of selling my children’s book at the famous Books & Books stores in Coral Gables and Miami Beach, as well as school author visits.

Signing books at the Coral Gables Books & Books store.

Proudly showing off my title at the Miami Beach Books & Books location. (Unfortunately, that store closed after the pandemic.)

A school assembly, getting the kids energized and excited. There is nothing better than a child’s enthusiasm, and to encourage creativity, imagination and curiosity. I have been blessed.

Many a time this place has grounded me. I used the beach and the water to find my way, to answer my questions, to assuage my doubts, to remind me of my talents and all the opportunities that the universe has locked and loaded for me.

The ocean vastness was never overwhelming. It showed me the greatness that was far reaching and touched us all.

Long walks along the golden sands providing quiet time to reflect.

We frequented a beach that rarely had crowds of people. Most of the time we had yards of beach to ourselves.

Shining sparkles that bounce off the water as if you say, look at all the possibilities life has to offer.

Each sparkle an opportunity, all rushing towards me.

The quiet expanse that calmed and soothed me.

Sun that would warm my skin and my soul.

Quality time with my husband, where we walked for miles, talked for days and dreamed up our future.

Together in the place where we met, fell in love, got engaged, celebrated our wedding and honeymooned. How could this place not have meaning to us.

Change is hard. And this change is not just hard but ironic. Since over two decades ago I made the hard choice to leave Miami to return to New York. To once again further my career, to be closer to family, and be near my beloved city. When the thought of leaving Miami became hard, I enlisted the advice from the popular book, Who Moved My Cheese? Back then, I was so afraid of making the move, of making a mistake. Would I find work? Could I survive freelancing? Would I miss the diversity of work, my friends, the sun and warm weather? But as the book professes, there is Cheese everywhere, and enough to go around for everyone. My cheese may have been moved again, but I know I will find an abundance and variety no matter where I turn.

And so here is the long goodbye, as we drove away from a view that will forever be etched in my mind. With gratitude and love for how much the universe has provided me, I give thanks for all the blessings in my life. And am reminded that the sun shines in the sky, no matter what longitude or latitude in which you are standing.

Holiday Traditions

December 24, 2022

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved to be in the kitchen. Her favorite spot was cozying up next to her mom and grandmothers, and nudging her way into the process. Little did she realize that it would be the start to a lifelong passion of cooking and baking for the people she loves. This is a love story. A story about the joy that my mom and grandmothers instilled in me about filling a table with homemade, handcrafted food made from love and for the pure joy of making people happy. And they always did. There was and still is delight around our family table. My mom and grandmothers had amazing talents in both the cooking and baking departments. And although I developed my own style, (they tended to follow recipes, and I make up stuff as I go), they inspired me, and still do.

Me, in my serious puberty years, and obviously thrilled to be in the kitchen with my Grandma Majewski in her Brooklyn home. You know how much I must value that an image speaks volumes if I am willing to share THIS photo with you. P.S. that was one of my favorite shirts. Photo Credit: Paul Majewski

Grandma Perri making her famous Peach Shortcake with Whipped Cream. She was a master.

I think back on how much these powerhouse women accomplished in the kitchen. Being a good cook and hostess were simply expected back then. Nowadays a host is met with such kudos for doing the same or even less than what our mothers and grandmothers had been doing for decades.

My mom and grandmas preparing Christmas meal.

I can’t tell you exactly why I was so captivated by watching them, and helping them. Maybe it was seeing the excitement of the guests as they approached a table filled to capacity with yummy bites. I guess it created a sense of fulfillment for me that would run through everything I do. In writing this love story, I tried to reach back into my deepest memories of those times to tap into that exact feeling; the scheduling, the preparation, the mounds of ingredients waiting to be used, the display, the enthusiasm for good food, the anticipation of guest arrivals and then the family gathered around a table of ‘abundancia’, laughing and crying that our bellies were too full. Those memories are deep rooted, cemented with the gift of giving. I'm glad I learned from the best.

Grandma Majewski, probably making gravy in her Brooklyn kitchen. Photo Credit: Paul Majewski

When it comes to traditions, our family is not unique. Every family has their own set that they follow. Ours had both holiday traditions and ones we followed weekly. Given that we didn’t keep our Italian language alive, I believe our food traditions took on an even greater purpose. Food became our love language, so passing it down through the generations is what continues to bind us together.

My cousin, Karen, was much like me in wanting to be the guardians of traditions and recipes. Sadly, she passed and is so dearly missed. But many years before, she compiled our grandmother’s recipes and sent me a book, which, of course, now has even more sentimental value. Karen loved to cook and bake too, and was a master in her own right. In sharing these recipes she has now become an even greater part of the legacy.

I cherish this handwritten note from Karen, and am so grateful that she took the time to gather our family recipes.

Karen, my cousin on my father’s side, sitting in my maternal grandmother’s kitchen. That is what I mean about one big family.

I cherish those holiday moments of the past. But admit that I long for the days when all our families would gather together and celebrate, eat, drink and truly be merry. We literally all lived within blocks of one another, so stopping by was no big deal. What I loved most, and have come to truly appreciate, is how all sides of our family gathered together, in-laws from every direction, all together. When someone got married, it just meant that the entire family grew. We didn’t have to split up and go to separate places. We were one big family; relatives upon relatives upon relatives.

The Christmas dessert table. Filled with fruit, struffoli, cookies, pies, cakes and more. A gluttony of sugar. And both the Mildred’s. Yes my Italian grandmothers both changed their beautiful given names to Mildred. Do not ask, I have never understood why.

Nowadays, folks need to sit
in a car for hours or even
travel by plane. I vote for
just packing ourselves on
a sleigh and pushing our
way over to grandma’s
house. From the smiles
on our faces there is no
doubt that this was the
preferred method of transportation back then.

So, it’s no wonder that I’ve tried to keep those feelings alive. And the one way I know how; baking up a storm during the holidays. Each year, as many of my family as can join come to my house to help me make cookies and Struffoli. It’s a weekend long event, and then some.

Some stay the weekend, like my parents, happy to get up early and stay up late. Others come for a day, and sometimes if tempted with their favorite cookie, come back the next to continue to help.

Me, with my twin sisters, Jill and Alyssa.

My mom, happily rolling Butter Balls into shape.

My nephew, John, kneading the dough for Grandma cookies. Gianna eyeballing the cutters and which ones to use.

Gianna, my go to helper, always! That smile says it all.

Butter Balls, a delicate, buttery cookie with crushed walnuts.

Mounds and mounds of dough ready to be chilled before shaping.

There is so much nostalgia that builds around gathering with loved ones among stacks of butter, rows of eggs and mountains of flour. The debate about whether I should double or triple a recipe, then the gasps and laughs at the amounts we made. The wait to see who eats the most cookies as they come out of the oven.

It takes a ton of butter, and lots of other ingredients to make cookie magic.

There is never a shortage of flour in my home. Mountains of it.

My mom is notorious for eating cookies as she is finishing them.

Knowing that these treats are enjoyed and will be handed down to my nieces and nephew, is the best way to honor my mom and grandmothers’ traditions.

Michella and Nicolette, my cheerful little helpers.

Everybody gets their hands in there to pitch in. Some pick the tasks they love, others are forced by me to help out even if it’s not their favorite part.

Chopping walnuts, the old fashioned way, by hand.

It’s an assembly line production and I will admit that sometimes I can be a task master. I like perfection.

You know I’m a master of efficiency.That method of using two tiny spoons to fill the Swedish Butter cookies was replaced by a piping bag. DUH

Swedish Butter Cookie recipe. Handwritten with crusty brown edges but still going strong.

Melt in your mouth butter cookie filled with raspberry jam.

Chocolate Drizzled Shortbreads These shortbreads have the perfect texture and the drizzle of chocolate hits the spot.

The funny thing about me making cookies for the holidays is that due to my wheat intolerance I can’t eat a single one. I feel like that is the absolute best proof of how much I love bringing joy to others.

Lime Zest - Raspberry Jam Sandwich Cookie

Lime Zest - Raspberry Jam Sandwich Cookie This cookie is buttery with a zing of lime followed by the tart of raspberry finished with sweet from the powdered sugar. What more can you ask from a cookie?

It may be hard work. But we always make time for wine.

When it comes to holiday traditions, we have several cookies that are main stays every year. But two are at the absolute top of the heap: Struffoli and Grandma Cookies.

Struffoli are a traditional southern Italian Christmas treat, that originated in Naples which is near where my Grandma Perri was born (Salerno). They are basically fried dough balls covered in melted honey and sugar, mounded up and finished with sprinkles. (Who the hell cares about calories or if these are healthy. They are good for you because they are delicious and put a smile on your face. That’s health, my friends.)

It is a laborious job that takes time and patience. You have to make the dough, knead the dough until it’s baby bottom smooth, cut the dough into small pieces and roll them into long ropes, let dry, then cut into tiny bits, then fry, then cook to coat them with sugar & honey. Believe me when I say it’s a process, but one I do with absolute love for those you relish picking one ball off at a time. For years my grandmother never let me knead the dough. And she watched over me as I rolled the ropes. Too thin, too thick. Ok, that’s just right. And while she was alive, I think I was only allowed to fry them once on my own. It was a decades long apprenticeship.

It takes pounds of flour and dozens of eggs to make multiple batches of Struffoli.

After kneading the dough, it’s cut into small pieces

Then each piece needs to be rolled into long ropes

Dad rolling up his sleeves to get to work rolling the ropes. Mom brings to ropes to the drying table

Rows and rows of paper dusted with flour serve as the drying station for the stuffoli before they get cut.

Then each rope gets cut into tiny nuggets

Then the nuggets are left to dry

My mom, happily awaiting her turn to bring me another batch of dough balls to fry.

Each small batch is then fried

The dough puffs up into light little balls

Fresh out of the oil, drained and ready for their honey & sugar bath.

Loved by family and friends, alike. Bruce is a big fan

Clearly, these are fan favorites

The addiction is real.

The other stand out fav is the Grandma cookie. I guess every family has their own version of a Grandma Cookie. For our part, we have no idea where our recipe originated, or if my Grandmother invented it herself. My Grandma Perri made them, without any written recipe. It was simply all kept in her head. Finally, one year we got smart. We carefully watched he, measured what she tossed in the bowl, and wrote it all down in order to preserve the legacy forever. She called them Grandma Cookies. So we called them Grandma Cookies. And that is how they will remain. The cookie made by my Grandmother.

Just as with the Struffoli, it was years before she allowed me to do certain tasks. I had to earn my level of involvement, proving that I mastered the previous task. And to be honest, there are still times when I wish they were both right behind me so I could ask them questions or have them tell me that I’m doing it right.

The texture of these are more like a mini cake/scone than a cookie. And the way my grandmother made them was not a beautiful work of art. No, no, the icing was and still is simply brushed on willy nilly, and sprinkles are spooned over top. And to be honest, I’m all for that method. True, that those immaculately glazed cookies are a thing of beauty but all that work destroyed after one bite. Heck, it tastes the same no matter the decoration.

For anyone who has had these cake like cookies they know what I’m talking about. They are so darn good. And because they are beloved… We literally make a table load.

Gianna mixing the Grandma cookie dough

Flour, eggs and so much more

John kneading the dough until it’s smooth

Gianna, my happy helper who will carry on the tradition.

I love seeing my mom’s hand at work

With so many batches, Gianna keeps control of which shapes are cut. it takes a village.

My sister, Alyssa, and Dad getting trays ready to bake

Gianna loves these cookies, right out of the oven and without any icing or sprinkles

It’s a mad rush to get the icing on followed by sprinkles before it dries up. All hands on deck.

Ice, sprinkle, repeat.

Sprinkles. Only the non pareil kind are acceptable

A 7 foot long table filled from end to end. That’s how much these are loved.

It has always been a family affair but when some family members can’t make the trip, they join in by FaceTime.

Nicolette calling in from NC and marveling at the amount of Grandma Cookies we made. Those are her favorite, as her sisters Gabrielle and Michella, too.

It’s a tradition I try hard to fulfill each year. No matter what is going on, or how crazy the season gets I do my very best to bake up a storm. But this tradition took a turn these past several years due to the pandemic. I have been making everything by myself and then ship them to family. It was quite the adjustment. The other big change was that I starting selling my baked goods, so certain protocols and procedures are taken for customer orders. You can check out my SHOP PAGE to see what’s cooking.

However, Grandma Cookies and Struffoli are still purely a family tradition. And this year I was looking forward to welcoming back my crew of apprentices. But as luck would have it, schedules shifted and we are making a big move for my parents from Long Island to Westchester smack dab in the middle of the holidays. Thus the cookie manufacturing plant has been postponed until they get settled and we can all reconvene again. Maybe that’s why I decided to write this post. I wanted desperately to get back to the holiday traditions I know and love. So sharing this holiday love story will have to do until my parents are settled in, and back right by my side.

I can always count on them for any task. I love having them help me.

No matter how these cookies are packaged, they come from deep in my heart, and made with pure love.

I end as I began with my mouth wide opened laughing in the kitchen, with my Grandmothers on my spiritual shoulders.

Thank you for indulging me this trip down memory lane. Sharing the abundance of togetherness, laughter and holiday cheer is the best way of honoring the past, living in the present and ensuring the future.

From my family to yours, I wish you all the very happiest of holidays. Joyous of years filled with peace and bliss, adventure and wonder, laughter and giggles, health and more health all stirred with the largest amount, and only ingredient that matters… LOVE.

My Mother, My Fortune

May 7, 2022

We all celebrate Mother’s Day because who doesn’t love to honor our mothers? Like most holidays, this tradition dates back to the pagans when in ancient Greece the celebration was in honor of Rhea, the mother of the gods. And in Rome, Cybele, a mother of goddesses, was worshipped as early as 250 B.C. But the tradition was more deeply cemented thanks to Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia. On May 12, 1907, having lost her mother two years earlier she held a memorial service at her late mother's church in Grafton, West Virginia. Her belief was that children tended to neglect their mothers until it was too late. So she campaigned for a national observance of Mother's Day and convinced her mother's church to celebrate Mother's Day on the second anniversary of her mother's death -- the second Sunday of May. Then in 1914 it became official when President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed Mother's Day as a national holiday to be held each year on the second Sunday of May. I had always thought it was Hallmark who jumped started the tradition looking for another way to sell cards. Although they may not have started it, they certainly have capitalized on it. Mother's Day is the third-largest card-sending holiday in the United States, with an estimated 139 million greeting cards expected to be purchased this year. Instead of buying a card, I decided to create my own type of card by writing a post, a love letter to honor my mom.

Now, traditionally I’m not a big believer in these types of holidays. Not because I feel we shouldn’t celebrate our mothers or fathers or grandparents, etc. But because I’ve always been of the opinion that I don’t need a specific date or someone else to tell me to honor a person I love. Why not praise them everyday? But I get it. So, here I go jumping on the bandwagon to celebrate my special someone especially since I was the one to make her a mother first. And unlike Anna Jarvis, I try to express my adoration for my mom as often as possible, but it does feel good to make it even more momentous on this day, and lay it on thick.

She is a gem through and through. A darling of child grown into a woman of old fashioned upbringing that places value on respect, being kind to others, being gracious and generous. Loving and giving, supportive. She’s all that and more. A face of an angel.

A teacher, a guider and one who puts family first always. Her greatest gift to us was instilling the family bond, and sibling love. A bond never to be broken. I’m not a mother, but my sisters, who are great mothers themselves had the best teacher, and have instilled the same in their children. She showed us the importance to sticking together. And we have and we do.

She honored her mother, and mother in law, and handed down traditions.

She has shown us what true love and devotion is. For anyone who has ever met my parents they are witness to the extraordinary love they share, and the enduring example they have set.

And when it comes to fashion there was nothing old about her. She was pure glam and had tremendous fashion sense. She dressed to the nines and looked like a movie star. Well, one movie star in particular… Sophia Loren.

I remember my mom telling me that she once saved up an entire week’s salary to buy one dress. If you were to calculate that in modern day’s dollars that was one pricey dress. I still have some of her clothes and hats and wear them with pride.

But she is so much more than her fashion and stunning beauty. She is a decent, loving, giving soul who had energy to spare. As kids, she would venture out with all of us, my cousins included, to take us on field trips; to Wollman Skating Rink, The Museum of Natural History, Jones Beach. She would pack us into the car and away we went. She was an avid supporter of anything we did, always showing up at our sports practices and games, cheering us on. She is the mother of all mothers, as is evident in the the glow on her face whenever she is holding a child - her own, her nieces/nephews, her grandchildren.

She is an awesome grandmother, aunt, sister, sister-in-law, friend, wife and an exceptional mother. I could go on and on, but I’ll let a poem I wrote awhile back for her 70th birthday do the rest of the talking and let all these images bring a smile to your face. I know they will because whenever I see her face and that smile, I can’t help but be filled with joy.

My Mother - My Fortune

I have considered myself fortunate all my life,
Never truly understanding my lack of great strife.
Fortune has different meanings to each and every one
But for me, and my siblings, it’s the definition of our Mom.
Adrienne Fortune, her name bears what she delivers
Her goodness and love is as long as any river.
She is the warmth of a blanket on a cold winter’s night,
She is the sun kissing your face, so warm, so bright
She is the breeze that cools you by the side of the bay
She is the laughter of a child on any given day
Our mother knows no other way
This is how she would spend each and every day
Giving to others their every want and need
She will give of herself without any heed
She is a woman full of grace
Full of love that lights her face
She is a woman of simple goals
The purest ones remain untold
The strongest woman I’ll ever know
She is the angel who has guided us to and fro
She complains not, asks not and does not hurt a soul
Treating everyone with kindness has been her title role.
My fortune has been great, and it started with my great fortune
A daughter
A sister
A wife
An aunt
A friend
A grandmother
A Mother, My Mother, My Fortune

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you more than these words and pictures could ever convey.

Happy Mother’s Day to all those who have selflessly given their love and guidance to the children in their lives.

Photo credit thanks to my dad, Uncle Paul (mom’s bro) and my brother.

Thanksgiving 2021 - A Whole Lot of Gratitude

November 22, 2021

Gratitude

I will go out on a limb and state that in recent history, the word gratitude probably has not been used more readily, more often, or more deeply than in the past 2 years. Our lives have been turned upside down. Our faith, our health teetering on a pinhead. Of course, there have been many other major obstacles, wars, oppression prior to 2020 but I dare say that in the past 30 years rarely has the entire globe had to look onto itself and search for help, grace and the ease of suffering all while finding gratitude in the most basic human need; our health.

Some of us have experienced grave loss and pain. Unimaginable grief and loneliness. Fear and terror wreaked havoc on our emotional tendons. I know my body would tense up with every ambulance siren I would hear. I would sense a physical shutter and dread. In order to hold onto sanity I began practicing gratitude that there were ambulances available to come to the aid of people. That no one I knew needed one. Before long that sound, although still alarming, didn’t have the same intense physically effect on me as once before. And so, hope and optimism spring forth. The sun still rises. The moon still revolves. And another day dawns. And we breath, with or without a mask… we breath.

The simple glory of a sunrise. Spectacular in its power. May its warmth and golden glow surround and protect you.

My gratitude is ever present but has been more profound over these past 2 years. I, we, feel so fortunate to have each other and been able to work to support staying in the home we love that has kept us safe and out of harm’s way. A saying my dad has forever bestowed on us whether we were traveling afar, going to the grocery or simply taking a walk… harm’s way was always to be avoided.

Grateful for a backyard that allowed to be outdoors and social

And although all revenue avenues for me shut down during the shut down, the downtime led to quiet time to reveal clarity. Reflection can usher in breakthroughs and new approaches to any situation. As so many people did during this time, we dug deep and asked ourselves why am I still doing this and how do I really want to use my time and talents? Can I find another path, a more meaningful journey?

Where do the various tracks of life lead you?

To reimagine and envision more, I often love sitting by the ocean’s edge. I stare out unto the open waters and embrace the sparkles that dance along the surface. To me, they have always represented possibilities, the vast amount of opportunities rushing toward me. All that is being asked of me is to grab onto them.

And just like the seagulls, all we need to do is survey the bounty and then dive in.

With the pandemic demanding change, I dove in head first designing a different path. I found an alternative way to use my talents and to prosper. One that brings me, and I dare say, others, joy. So, I will count that as 2 gratitude notches.

As a private chef I offer weekly meal offerings.

And also sneaking in a celebratory cake.

My weekly outdoor stand that got it all started. Now I provide personal chef prepared weekly meals plus I sell baked goods online.
Check out my **Shop Page** with **Granola**, **Nuts** and more.

It’s evident that we are all thankful for our own health, safety and personal well being, as well as for all our family, friends and greater community. I can add on that although we may still have tremendous division in the world, we have also become more compassionate as we watched so much pain and suffering. I pray for continued empathy, understanding and love towards one another, and the healing of our planet, on all levels.

This Thanksgiving week marks the first time I traveled since the lock down. I had concerns and trepidation about venturing out beyond my little world but had faith that with all the precautions I continually take, I would be ok. And I am.

Although this may seem silly, this is my garb whenever I go anywhere. It’s my comfort level.

So my gratitude continues to grow with the great fortune of being able to spend quiet, sun filled time with my husband, JuanCarlos. In a place that brings us peace, and is painted with wonderful memories of our togetherness.

What can be more healing and calming than the warmth of the sun, followed by the ocean breeze and the soothing lull of lapping waves at the shore? For me, this is paradise.

If you look closely, that’s me out there swimming in the blues.

On this day, this year, being grateful is deep, deep in my cells. I wish for you peace and calm, health and happiness that fills you with hope and optimism.

May you look to your left, turn to your right and notice the good that surrounds you is YOU, no matter where you travel. You are the goodness in the world.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving 2020 - A Test of Gratitude

November 25, 2020

I think we can all agree that 2020 has been a year that has tested us in many ways. We have endured long periods of isolation, some of it wrapped in fear, some of it clouded by uncertainty, but then lifted, virtually and spiritually, by the goodness and generosity of so many. Healthcare workers, essential workers, and beyond have put themselves out there providing relief, comfort and basic necessities for the mass population. I believe that their selfless acts have bolstered us, made us stronger, given us hope and belief in our good humanity. Simple acts of kindness, such as a wave and masked smile from a neighbor, or someone asking how you are doing have brightened our days. There is power in that. Power to overcome and endure. Power to help others. Power to know that the true meaning of being grateful is when we find gratitude in times as troubling as these of 2020.

Even when it seems we are beyond repair, there is beauty and strength to be found.

2020. Most commonly it symbolizes perfect vision. At the end of 2019, I often said that this year would be one of clear vision. I had no idea how truly meaningful that statement would turn out to be. Often times we see things through our own lens. Blurred by our own patterns. Blink and we see them more clearly. So much came into view this year. Some things were always there just bubbling under the surface. Some were suspected but not really understood. Others were revealed to us in global fashion; our fragility, our humanity. But it’s hard to deny that many realities that came into focus, just like 20/20 vision.

No matter what has transpired. No matter what erupted around us.

No matter our differences, our backgrounds, our color, shape or beliefs, I still believe we are all connected in a deep, meaningful, spiritual way. We are all made up of the same energy. All breathing the same air. All rumbling around the pumpkin patch trying our best to live a full, fruitful life. I don’t expect that these few words will heal wounds or alter opinions. They are simply my reflections on a year gone by. And to remind myself to be grateful in all things large and small, everywhere I find kindness, see helpfulness, share the joyfulness, and be mindful.

As this year’s Thanksgiving comes into clear view, it may look quite different from those of the past. Big gatherings may transform into a quiet day of reflection or a boisterous Zoom call with family near and far. For many, not gathering is a huge deal, and a great loss. For others, it’s another day that is marked as a holiday, and ok to sacrifice with some solitude for health and safety. Whatever it is for you, that’s ok. However, you find yourself this holiday, may it be filled with joy and safety, health and hopefulness and stirred with LOVE.

May our eyes continue be opened.
May our hearts be welcoming.
May we see with a truer insight, grace and gratitude for our many blessings.
May hope spring eternal.

From recipes to table settings, lifestyle ideas and food travels, Dana finds simple and easy ways to entertain with her "something from nothing" approach. Whether it’s a holiday feast, a garden party, cocktail event, or Tuesday's dinner, her mantra is always the same; keep it simple, make it delicious, stir it with love.

Dana has also written a children's book series that encourages thoughtfulness, Think...then Jump™

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