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Last week, on the heels of wrapping our fourth annual Big Easy International Film Festival – an independent film festival that my husband, Dan, and I operate in downtown New Orleans – I discovered a wonderful surprise at my mailing place in the French Quarter. Behind the counter, amid other packets and packages, lay two boxes, each addressed to me and filled with numerous author-allotted copies of my brand-new Moon Florida Keys guidebook, the first edition of a mainstream travel guide about that unique archipelago in southern Florida.
Soon after lugging them back to my apartment (and rubbing my sore arms back to life), I cracked open one of the boxes and perused the guide with Dan. Following the rather lengthy research, writing, revision, and proofing process that had resulted in the production of this guide, I must admit to feeling a great sense of pride as Dan and I turned each page, taking in every photo, map, and callout box in the 375-page guide. Especially rewarding were the photographs, most of which were taken by either me or Dan and all of which reminded us of our latest Florida Keys adventure.
In celebration of this long-awaited delivery, I posted a trivia contest on my American Nomad blog. The first person to correctly answer all five questions – the answers of which can all be found in my Florida Keys guide – by 11:59 p.m. CST on New Year's Eve will win three of my signed guidebooks: Moon Florida Keys, Moon Michigan, and Moon Baja RV Camping. If you're curious about any or all of these amazingly diverse destinations, give the contest a try! Except for a bit of time spent Google-ing the answers, what, after all, do you have to lose?
As usual, I find myself stretched a bit too thin to post here on a regular basis, and as I've expressed before, I really miss the time I used to spend surfing the blogosphere. But, despite my myriad duties and projects as of late, I know I'd be remiss if I allowed Thanksgiving week to pass me by without expressing my heartfelt gratitude for my friends and loved ones, including my blogging pals.
Lately, though, I've felt most grateful for my four grandparents – all of whom were a huge part of my life, especially during my childhood. Although they're never far from my mind, they've been even more present in my thoughts this year. Perhaps that's because I lost the last two – my paternal grandfather and my maternal grandmother – within the last six months. My grandpa (pictured here with my dad and stepmom), whom I called Paw-Paw Al as a child, passed away in mid-June, just a few days before Father's Day, while my grandma, otherwise known as Maw-Maw Deanne, died less than two weeks ago, just 10 days following her 88th birthday.
While I love and miss each of them greatly, losing Deanne (pictured here with me and my mom) was perhaps the hardest blow – and not just because she was the last to go. She was also, if truth be told, my favorite. Her house – which was lost in Hurricane Katrina – always felt like home to me. While growing up, I spent countless hours with her, reading books, watching our favorite shows, eating our favorite treats, singing our favorite songs. We were so close that we even had a shared tune – “You Are My Sunshine” – which, appropriately enough, was written by former Louisiana governor Jimmie Davis.
Of course, I could easily fill a hundred posts with all the adventures I had with my grandparents as a child. But, for now, I'll just say that, while losing each of them has been devastating to me – especially given my atheistic belief that I'll never see them again – I realize how fortunate I am to have known, loved, and been loved by them. And, though their absence saddens me and sharply reminds me of my own mortality, I'm grateful that they were such an important part of my life – and I know without a doubt that they'll always be a part of me.
First, the good news. Despite our disappointing discovery that the Oceana Grill has indefinitely ceased the serving of oysters-on-the-half-shell, Dan and I have successfully found some plump, tasty, relatively clean oysters at the French Market Restaurant on Decatur Street in the French Quarter. True, on the day we sampled them, they were $17 per dozen as opposed to the happy hour special of $6 per dozen that the eatery regularly offered prior to the devastating Deepwater Horizon oil spill in April, but given that we're both die-hard oyster lovers suffering a severe six-month oyster withdrawal (due to our lengthy stay in Michigan, a state not known for its raw shellfish), it was a price that we were indeed willing to pay – especially on that particular day, the day we realized that our much-anticipated French Quarter apartment would probably never be ready and that we'd be better off demanding the return of our deposit. So, yahoo for us!
Now, for the other news – well, it's not really news as much as a travel observation. Last week, I was informed that I've been spending a bit too much time focusing on Michigan, New Orleans, and the Florida Keys on my American Nomad blog. Given that I've been working on back-to-back guides – that is, Moon Florida Keys, Moon Michigan, and Moon New Orleans – I suppose my fixation makes sense. Nevertheless, I've decided to make a concerted effort to cover other parts of the United States more frequently. To that end, I wrote and posted a piece about the historic mining town of Silverton, Colorado on Monday. While researching the post – and sifting through old photographs from my first visit to Silverton, part of a road trip that my mom and I took back in the 1980s – I recalled a disappointing discovery.
As a child, I'd been enamored with an old-fashioned place called Smedley's Ice Cream Parlor, situated in the 1300 block of Greene Street. I loved it so much, I even took a picture of it. But, alas, on a more recent trip to Silverton, I discovered that the ice cream parlor had been replaced by a hotel, and while I have nothing against that particular hotel, I must admit... I do miss the ice cream parlor. Of course, that's not the only favorite haunt to have suffered such a fate over the years. For a whole slew of reasons – from economic to personal – establishments, even beloved ones, come and go, but despite the logic behind such decisions, I'm not always happy with the results.
So, what about you? Have you ever returned to a particular locale, only to learn that a beloved establishment has been replaced by another? More importantly, how did you handle such disappointment?
If I were a Catholic, I might say, “I can't believe it's been nearly a month since my last confession!” But given that I'm just a humble atheist, I'll simply say, “Holy crap! Has it really been almost a month since my last freakin' blog post?!”
As I noted in mid-September, life has been busier than usual. At the moment, I'm trying to wrap up work on the fourth edition of Moon Michigan and gearing up for the third edition of Moon New Orleans, but I'd be seriously remiss if I didn't mention the fact that Dan and I have recently made our seasonal trek from northern Michigan to the Big Easy. Though we're both missing the quietude and fall colors of the woods beside Big Bear Lake, we're happy to be back in New Orleans. Unfortunately, however, the city is not completely how we left it. The much-publicized Gulf oil spill has definitely left its mark, causing one of our favorite French Quarter restaurants, the Oceana Grill, to cease serving raw oysters, at least for a while. Of course, that won't stop us from venturing into the Quarter again tomorrow, in search of those deliciously slimy mollusks. Here's hoping we can scare a few up!
As my sporadic blogging might indicate, I've been busier than a one-armed paper hanger (as my mother would say) over the past several months, and this week is no exception. Between working on the fourth edition of Moon Michigan and proofing the first edition of Moon Florida Keys, I don't seem to have much time for anything else. But I simply have to take a minute to share some good news with my online pals.
Two weeks ago, I found out that my proposal for the third edition of Moon New Orleans has earned me the chance to write the guide that, for the past decade, I've longed to write. Don't get me wrong – I've loved exploring destinations like Southern California, Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and Key West – some of the previous destinations that I've written guides about. But I've always dreamed of authoring a guidebook to the Big Easy, my beloved hometown and my favorite American city, so imagine my delight when I learned yesterday that the book contract is currently on its way to me. Though I have plenty of other tasks to finish first, I simply can't wait to get started!
Okay, enough about me. What's happening with you crazy cats?
Over the weekend, I recounted a recent tour of the historic S.S. Keewatin in Douglas, Michigan, on my American Nomad blog. If you're curious, you can read all about it there, but in the meantime, here are some of the photos that I couldn't post on my other blog.
the main lobby for boarding passengers
the purser's office, located in the lobby
a porthole amid the sleeping quarters
the bridal suite
the preserved wheelhouse
smokestacks and lifeboats on the upper deck
amusing potty doors at the adjacent bar on the dock
four friends having lunch beside Kalamazoo Lake
And, of course, if you ever have a chance to see the Keewatin for yourself, I highly recommend taking the Grand Tour, as Dan, Warren, Missy, and I did!
Roughly a year ago, I told you about the passion that Dan and I share for treasure hunting. In fact, over the past decade, we've experienced an assortment of treasure hunts, from gold-panning in northern California to diamond-digging in southwestern Arkansas. Of course, our most memorable excursions have taken place on South Padre Island, the budget-friendly barrier island near the southern tip of the Lone Star State. Although we've never stumbled upon a Spanish galleon filled with oodles of misplaced jewels, we've certainly found some interesting items in the sand dunes and tidal flats north of town, usually in the company of local historian Steve Hathcock. Such adventures have been on my mind a lot lately, perhaps since searching for Petoskey stones along the shores of Lake Michigan a few weeks ago. As with many of the items found on South Padre, Petoskey stones have more figurative worth than monetary value, but they sure are fun to find. So, although I look forward to our next treasure-hunting adventure – or should I say misadventure? – on South Padre Island, it's comforting to know that plenty of locales offer their own share of hunt-worthy features. After all, the hunt should matter more than the find itself... uh, right?
Last week, on the heels of wrapping our fourth annual Big Easy International Film Festival – an independent film festival that my husband, Dan, and I operate in downtown New Orleans – I discovered a wonderful surprise at my mailing place in the French Quarter. Behind the counter, amid other packets and packages, lay two boxes, each addressed to me and filled with numerous author-allotted copies of my brand-new Moon Florida Keys guidebook, the first edition of a mainstream travel guide about that unique archipelago in southern Florida.
