You Too Can Juggle...Really!

Although I am not a morning person, this Friday I made an exception to drag my carcass out of bed for the Celebration Rotary Club meeting. Normally, the local Rotary gathers at 7 a.m. every Friday at the Seasons Cafe in Celebration Health. Members enjoy a hot breakfast in tandem with the meeting.

For me, 7 a.m. is a vague, misty hour at which I might stir for a restroom visit or if one of the cats snuggled next to me is head-butting me for attention. But to actually drag my carcass out of bed and perform a task that requires consciousness is usually beyond my capabilities. Worse yet, being somewhere at 7 means actually getting up in the grey, other-worldly hour of 6. That is pure anathema for for an avowed night owl like myself.

But I'm interested in the Rotary, and I've already attended one meeting. They're an active community service organization that spearheads worthwhile projects like volunteering at Give Kids the World Village, raising funds for projects such as Give Kids Safe Shelter, and offering scholarships to high school students. You can learn more about them at http://www.celebrationrotary.com Besides, how can I resist a club that bills itself as the "Happiest Club on Earth?"

The meeting topic this week certainly lent itself to a happy club. The speaker, Dave Finnigan, was going to teach everyone to juggle! I was a bit skeptical, since coordination is not my strong point even at the best of times, and it's probably even more dimished at any hour before 9 a.m. But Dave, also known as "Professor Confidence," is a public speaker (and Celebration resident) who guarantees on his website that any adult can learn some basic skills. You can learn more about him at http://www.icanjuggle.com/davefinnigan/

I urged my husband to join me, but he stayed up late working and had a Friday morning meeting so I decided to go solo. I planned to get to bed at a reasonable hour, but due to a problem with one of my websites, I was online till the wee hours with a tech support person. Still, I hoped to be conscious enough to get dressed and pilot Canyonero to Celebration Health.

I have an unfailing internal alarm clock; no matter how sleepy I might be, I pop awake at the correct time. That doesn't necessarily mean that I stay awake, but at least I stir long enough to look at the clock and confirm the time. My internal system has only failed me once. It was like one of those nightmares where you oversleep and miss an important appointment. Unfortunately, this time the nightmare was real, and I missed the first half of a horse show in which I was scheduled to compete. I'm not sure what happened, other than the fact that I was up until an ungodly hour playing video games. That was back in the Dark Ages, when Coleco-Vision was state of the art. All I had at home was an Atari 2600, and I was spending the night with a friend who owned the Coleco system. We played until we were bleary-eyed, long past midnight, and the games' mind-numbing effect evidently didn't wear off until 10 a.m. the next morning.

Fortunately, this morning the internal alarm was functioning flawlessly. I popped out of bed as the grey light of dawn peered weakly through the window. The cats were startled at my early morning activity. They gave me evil stares for daring to disturb their routine and then snuggled up with my hubby; any warm body will do for fickle felines.

I readied myself and climbed in Canyonero (my Aztek) for the short ride to Celebration Health. Unfortunately, when I go to the Seasons Cafe, I discovered that this week's meeting was actually at Stetson University. Oops! Fortunately, that's right downtown so I was able to make it in time without breaking any speeding laws.

The meeting was in an upstairs conference room. There was a nice continental spread of donuts and other baked goods, fresh fruit, water, juice, and coffee. I selected some pineapple, strawberries, and a tasty-looking glazed donut, which I figured would give me a good sugar rush to fuel the juggling. I chased it with a cup of coffee for that extra caffeine blast. I accidentally used a vanilla-flavored creamer; normally, I don't like anything sweet in my coffee, but it was actually pretty good.

After a demonstration on how to make up Rotary meetings online, we all trooped downstairs to some wide, open space so Dave could make us into jugglers. He demonstrated some basic moves with balls and then explained that we would be learning with scarves, since they move more slowly and are therefore easier for beginners to handle.

Everyone selected three colored scarves, and he walked us through the basic principles of juggling. Much to my amazement, I was able to follow along (albeit with plenty of scarf dropping). He taught us to handle two scarves and then to juggle three, both under- and over-handed.

As we worked our way up through the moves, he played appropriate motivational music and shouted encouragement to the mass of scarf-tossing bodies. I tried to watch the contortions of others, but I didn't have much concentration to spare as I strove to keep my own scarves airborn. Thank goodness they drift slowly; I couldn't even imagine trying to keep fast-moving spheres aloft. I've always enjoyed jugglers, but I learned a new appreciation of their skills.

It must have been quite an amusing sight to watch a roomful of people (both kids and adults) dance about madly as they juggled the colorful pieces of cloth. There were squeals of delight as they managed to them keep aloft and groans of disappointment when a scarf would manage to escape and reach the floor.

Since Dave built us up step by step, it wasn't nearly as complicated as I had feared. By the end, I suddenly clicked into the rhythm of the over-handed pattern. It was so cool! As I frantically tossed and caught my trio of flying scarves, I realized that Dave had fulfilled his promise: I was actually juggling!

The session was over all too soon (it usually lasts an hour, but we'd gone through an abbreviated 20-minute version). Reluctantly, I turned in my scarves and headed back home to East Village to begin my work day. As I maneuvered around the work truck blockade/obstacle course on East Lawn, I couldn't help but smile as I reflected on the morning. On a typical day, I would have just been stirring out of bed. But on this day I'd already made a major accomplishment...it wasn't even 9 a.m. yet, and already I had learned to juggle. What a cool way to kick off the day.

Click here for my Life Coaching website (check out the "Holiday Survival" and "Keeping New Years Resolutions" links.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Christmas Next Door to the House of Mouse

I alway enjoy Celebration's close proximity to Disney World, but it's especially enjoyable during the holiday season. Way back when we were vacationers, early December was one of our favorite seasons to visit the Mouse (the other was the lull right after Labor Day).

We typically visited Disney World in the first or second week of December. All of the Christmas decorations were up, but the crowd density was surprisingly manageable. The teaming masses descend on the Mouse House for Thanksgiving, but then the crowd steadily decreases for a brief time. After Turkey Day, I guess they're busy getting ready for the holidays at home. Then there is another boom that reaches critical mass in the week between Christmas and New Years. If you manage to visit in the valley between the two attendance peaks, you can spend some quality park time without unreasonable waits and enjoy the holiday decorations and activities.

Now that we live only eight miles from the front gates of the Magic Kingdom, we can take full advantage of the lull. Today, we decided to make our annual pilgrammage to Disney/MGM Studio for the Osborne Family Spectacle of Lights. For ten years now, display has set the theme park ablaze with millions of multi-colored Christmas lights. It used to be set up on the "Residential Street" backlot, but that section as since been removed to make room for a new automotive stunt show. Now, the New York section is decked out in holiday finery, with soapy snowflakes drifting down on the oogling, gaping crowd.

Viewing the display has become a yearly tradition in our household. We've seen it for years, but my husband never gets tired of it. I have to confess that I enjoy it, too, as I've always had a fondness for tacky, overdone Christmas displays. Apparently the Osbornes horrified their neighbors with their over-the-top display in Arkansas. They supposedly even bought the houses on either side of their homestead in order to expand the extravaganza. Finally their neighbors sued, and the light show was shipped off to Disney World., where it has appeared for the last decade.

The display was slated to begin at 6 p.m., so we decided to have dinner at the Brown Derby, a restaurant in the theme park, and then go check out the lights. There is always a massive surge of people when the lights are first flicked on. We figured that we could enjoy a good meal and let the crowd thin out; then we could view the lights at our leisure, and maybe even sneak in a ride or two on Tower of Terror and Rockin' Roller Coaster.

I have a AAA Diamond Parking pass, so we got a good spot just past the handicapped parking. I don't mind parking farther away, but I hate the vicious free-for-all of getting on a parking tram. I think most of those people would trample their own mothers in a bid to grab a tram seat. Since Disney Security would probably frown on my carrying a cattle prod, I stick to the AAA parking spots; they're usually within reasonable walking distance.

After our bags were checked, we joined a line to enter the park. Even though it was late, hoardes of people were heading in from other parks to see the Osborne Spectacular. We got in the one line that appeared to be moving, but of course the moment we entered it, the people in front of us froze like a statue. I never figured out the hold-up, but thankfully we eventually made it in before the park closed.

We debated getting a Fast Pass for the tower or the roller coaster, but according to the information board, there was no wait for either. It was a chilly evening, at least by Florida standards, so it appeared that most of the crowd had bailed and those who had left were all heading over to the light show or Fantasmic. Fine with us...we decided to have dinner, see the lights, and then ride Tower of Terror and Rockin' Rollercoaster at our leisure.

Technically, our reservations for Brown Derby were still an hour away; that's all I could get when I called ahead. But we figured that there was a good chance of getting in early since the crowd was so light. Sure enough, they were able to seat us with only a brief wait.

I love the cobb salads at the Brown Derby, but for me it's always a melancholy place to visit during the holiday season. Once upon a time, it was our tradition to have dinner there while enjoying the live piano music. The pianist played a wide variety of holiday tunes, but he always slipped in the Snow Miser theme. It just wasn't Christmas at Disney without a trip to the Derby and a Snow Miser serenade.

Then, a few years back, they got rid of the piano. I imagine it was a cost-cutting measure, but it really destroyed the ambiance for me. I still enjoy the food and the Christmas decorations, but it's not as special without the live music.

We had already premeditated splitting a cobb salad, but we decided to split a couple of appetizers, too. We settled on crab cakes and portabello mushroom/goat cheese tortellini. We were planning to be teetotalers, but the waitress tempted us into splitting a drink by describing the mouthwatering holiday specials. We chose a delicious minty creation that involved ice cream and peppermint schnapps. Not only was it tasty, but it was also lovely eye candy (at least until we dove into it). The beverage was pink and white, topped with green and white whipped cream infused with mint flavoring. It was so attractive that a fellow diner passing our table did an abrupt about-face and exclaimed, "Mmmmmm! What is that?!"

We enjoyed both of the appetizers, and the cobb salad was as wonderful as always. A lot of restaurants offer a cobb, but I've never found an authentic version like the Brown Derby's. It contains the usual items, such as lettuce, tomatoes, avocados, bleu cheese, eggs, turkey, and bacon. All of the ingredients are finely (and I do mean finely) chopped, and the server tosses it right at your table. The portion is large enough for two people to share or for one person to have as a hearty meal.

Even though we knew that our calorie-laden tummies didn't need any more food, we couldn't help ordering the dessert special out of curiosity. It was a chocolate and orange concoction created in honor of the new stunt show. The plate was artfully decorated with a castle and tire tracks stenciled in chocolate, and the dessert itself was apparently meant to resemble a wheel, complete with white-chocolate "flame." It was very rich and very tasty.

As we dined, I observed the people around us. I don't think there were many locals; we were surrounded by tourists flush with excitement, enjoying their holiday vacations. There were parties of every size, from couples to families with gaggles of children to three-generation tribes. I could feel their glee as I tried to visualize the scene through their eyes and recall my own excitement back when I was a tourist, too. The childlike wonder of people who see Disney World for the first time is a real delight.

I always wonder if living in Celebration and visiting Disney will ever become old hat for me. Thankfully, it looks like that time is still far away, if it ever even comes at all. I reveled in the happy atmosphere, and I smiled a secret smile, knowing that I never have to leave. No day counting, bag packing, and end-of-vacation malaise for me. I never have to go home from Disney World; I just have to go next door.

As we left the restaurant and headed to "New York," we marvelled at the absence of people. Most of Disney/MGM was deserted; apparently, there had been a mass exodus, and the only people left were either at the Osborne display or watching Fantasmic on the other side of the park.

The crowd density increased when we reached our destination. Even though I've seen the light show countless times, it still gives me goosebumps when I catch my first glimpse of the year. Imagine Clark's house in "Christmas Vacation" multipled by several hundred and you'll start to have a mental picture. Add animated figures and a giant spinning globe, plus soapy snowflakes dancing down from the sky, and you'll have a good visualization.

If you happen to visit the display, don't get so dazzled by the millions of colored lights that you miss the other little details. Look in the windows of the decorated houses, and search the tree lot for the Charlie Brown tree.

After we'd had our fill of Christmas finery, we headed off to drop in on the Tower of Terror. On our way, we noticed that the usual tree and train set were absent from the area in front of the giant sorcerer hat. It was a real disappointment; I don't know if they had been moved elsewhere in the park this year or if they've been eliminated altogether. I hope they haven't gone the way of the Brown Derby's piano.

Both the Tower of Terror and the Rockin' Rollercoaster were walk-on, so we chose the Tower first. There was only a handful of people in the pre-show room, and soon we were rushing through the "basement" to board the out-of-control elevator for a few cheap thrills. We were seated in the front row and sent off to the chute, where we were jostled up and down in the darkness. The highlight was when we reached the top and the doors burst open, revealing the Christmas lights glowing far below in a blazing palate of color.

Next, we headed to the rollercoaster, but unfortunately it had "temporarily ceased operation." Since we didn't know whether "temporary" meant a few minutes or the rest of the night, we decided to call it a day. Progress was slow, since we got caught in the post-Fantasmic herd, but we weren't in a hurry. It had been a nearly perfect evening...a good meal, a lovely holiday display, and a fun ride. The only slight damper was missing Rockin' Rollercoaster, but as hubby pointed out, we can always come back the next day.

Click here for my Holiday Survival Guide and a guide to Keeping New Years Resolutions on my business website.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Hectic Holidays

Now that Thanksgiving is over, the whirlwind holiday season has begun. Since Turkey Day has also ushered in the season of caloric holiday indulgence, I have scheduled bouts of daily physical activity to combat additional poundage. I'm an infomercial addict, so I ordered an Urban Rebounder (basically, an indoor mini-trampoline). I never believe the exaggerated claims, but I enjoy a wide variety of exercise so I have a smorgasboard of "As Seen On TV" equipment and DVDs. Now that the weather is so gorgeous, I've started walking semi-regularly again, too.

Saturday night was so pleasant that I decided to hike downtown to see the snowfall again. It was a perfect evening for being outdoors, and I was curious as to whether the crowd would be as large as it had been on Friday.

When I reached downtown Celebration, I still had a little time before the snowfall, so I stopped at Sherlock's for a cup of rose hip tea. Then I hiked down to Market Street, past the NEV train and horse carriages (both of which seemed to be doing a booming business). There was a good sized crowd that seemed to grow progressively larger as the clock approached 8 p.m.

As I waited below one of the light poles, in the midst of a steadily swelling mass of people, a little truck came down the street, refilling the snow-makers with a hose running from a tank of liquid. A little knot of kids was harrassing the drivers, asking them how snowflakes could be made from soap.

Suddenly the tinny speakers sprang to life, and the number of people on Market Street seemed to instantly triple. It was the same recording from last year, with the same corny intro: the kids of Celebration wishing for snow. And of course, the wish was granted as the blowers kicked into gear and the bubbly snowflakes rained down on the expectant crowd below. On Friday, I saw a lot of locals; Saturday appeared to be almost exclusively tourists. I found it rather humorous that in a few days, the vast majority of them would probably be returning to real snow...yet here they were, burning precious vacation time to see the fake version.

The kids danced around in the blizzard while proud parents and grandparents snapped photos or rolled their camcorders. I was standing right in the line of fire, but I quickly moved to avoid getting soap in my tea. Whatever type they are using this year has a stronger than usual scent that sent me into a coughing fit; the same thing had happened on Friday. But most of the people seemed to be immune to any adverse respiratory effects.

I stayed until the end of the snowfall to see what songs would be played. Unfortunately, none of them caught my fancy; it was the same old selections from last year. Oh well, now that I have my Shakin' Stevens CD with my favorite tune from the Celebration Company/Disney days, I don't miss the old days as much.

When the snowfall stopped, I headed towards Celebration Avenue for the hike back to Duloc Manor. It's longer than the back way, but it would take me through the residential areas. Since it was such a beautiful night, I decided to take the longest route, which would take me through South Village and Roseville Corner, instead of going directly into East Village.

The night was ablaze with Christmas lights, and there was still enough Chicagoan left in me to marvel at the fact that I walking around in shorts in November in 70-something degree weather. I know all the old cliches about dreaming of a white Christmas, but I'll choose a green Christmas anytime.

On Sunday afternoon, after church, we hiked over to the Farmers Market, which is doing a booming business at its new location on Market Street. Hubby wanted to pick up some produce, while I sought out the French pastry booth. Then, at the head of the street, we discovered Christmas trees for sale. It was a fundraiser to help pay for landscaping at the school, and the trees were very fresh, having just been cut in North Carolina a few days earlier. Free delivery was even included, and it was prompt. Our newly purchased tree was already waiting on our front porch by the time we got home.

On Sunday night, hubby and I decided to make a late night run to Target to buy some holiday decortations. We put the real tree in the front room, with a silver tree in the family room, so we needed to deck them both out. Normally, I would stick to one tree, but since we're on the holiday house tour, I need to be a bit more extravagant than usual. I hate shopping in crowds, so we figured that if we went out after 10 p.m., we'd avoid the worst of the holiday rush.

We got out a little later than planned, so we didn't reach the store until 10:40. As we pulled into the empty parking lot, I was afraid that Target was closed already. Thankfully, they were open until 11, giving us 20 precious minutes to snatch enough booty to deck out Duloc Manor. We grabbed a cart and rushed to the seasonal section, tossing garland, ornaments, tree skirts, and toppers into a precarious heap. We made it with five minutes to spare...whew!

We decorated the live tree when we got home, going with a loose "Christmas Story" theme. A friend gave me some old-fashioned big bulb Christmas lights, so my husband festooned them around the tree while I buried the branches in ornaments. It looks quite lovely when lit, but hubby is paranoid about the heat that the large light bulbs generate, so he won't let me leave them on when we're not in the room.

Next, I put up my beloved silver tree on Monday morning. I grew up in the tacky metal tree/color wheel 1960s, and I still have a soft spot in my heart for those shiny silver branches. Since the theme in my family room is Rankin/Bass, it fits in pefectly. There are two color wheels attached to the base and one balanced on a box to infuse the branches with a continuous cycle of blue, red, green, and orange. Technically, the tree is a new version that isn't made of metal, so I could safely use string lights. But I just can't do that...it wouldn't be properly authentic. However, in a nod to modern technology, I bought a small silver fiber optic tree for the foyer.

I added a few other holiday touches throughout the house, but by Monday night the house was still in chaos. Now it's Tuesday night, and I'm still surrounded by half-empty ornament boxes and random strings of garland; my decor is almost done, but not quite. I thought it would be done today, but then someone notified me that Christmas decorations were 60 percent off at Joanne Fabrics, so I stopped there this afternoon. Just what I needed...more holiday decor!

Hopefully Duloc Manor will be back to some semblence of normalcy by tomorrow...or at least as normal as possible in the hectic holiday season.

Click here for my Holiday Survival Guide and a guide to Keeping New Years Resolutions on my business website.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

The Celebration Snow Returns

Yesterday night the yearly snowfall returned to Celebration. Call me corny, but I love the blizzard of soapy snowflakes that descends hourly on Market Street between Black Friday and New Years Eve. We've been attending it since 2002, when we were in the process of purchasing our home.

For the first two years we attended, it was run by The Celebration Company (i.e. Disney). In 2004, it was taken over by Lexin, the company that purchased the downtown area. Fortunately, Lexin didn't change it too much, although I prefer Disney's taste in music. A loop of Christmas music plays on tinny speakers as the snowfall pours down at the top of each hour from 6 to 9 p.m. It only lasts a few minutes, but the kids get a real big kick out of it. For the "big kids" who have moved to Florida from the North, it provides a snow-fix without the unpleasant side effects, like shovels and frostbite.

Since yesterday was the first day of "Now Snowing Nightly" (the official moniker), it was kicked off with a big hoopla prior to the 6 p.m. snowfall. The 2005 community service award winners were going to light the laefront Christmas tree; since one of them is a friend of ours, we decided to get downtown early enough to see him.

Hubby and I figured that traffic might be fierce, so we walked from East Village to downtown. It only takes about 20 minutes if you take the boardwalk, and it's not much farther even if you hoof it on the streets. It was a pleasant night for walking, although I donned blue jeans in case the air turned chilly (for a Floridian, "cool" is anything below the low 70s).

Sure enough, when we got downtown, it was fast becoming a mob scene. There were cars and people everywhere, eager to kick off the holiday season with carolers, snow, and the arrival of Santa Claus. We managed to jockey into position near the tree, where we met some friends. We chatted for a while as singers carolled, and then I spotted our other friends waiting near the stage for the tree lighting cue. I slipped over to wait was the clock neared the appointed hour. After the tree lighting, Santa was scheduled to arrive in style in a horse-drawn carriage (the south is too hot for reindeer, as anyone who has ever watched "The Year Without A Santa Claus" knows...they must wear those personal cooling devices from "Sharper Image" when they visit on Christmas Eve).

The three award winners were clutching a giant plunger that would ostensibly light the tree. The singers finished early, so the master of ceremonies killed time until the precise moment. Then, he frantically started the countdown, and the crowd breathlessly shouted: "FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!" The plunger was depressed...and nothing. But not to worry...a moment or two later the tree lit up in a blaze of white lights (well, mostly...a couple of patches were noticeably dark, so some of the strings must have been out).

I'm guessing the plunger was a diversion, with the tree set to light up at the appointed time without any human intervention. But it looks a lot more cool to have a big prop, and the timing was pretty good...only a few seconds off.

In the aftermath, buried in the crowd, I missed Santa's arrival. The pre-recorded music had kicked in, and the snowmakers were pumping out soapy snowflakes full force. Celebration's other holiday standards (carriage rides and the NEV train) were on hand, and the crowd had swelled into a wall of people crowding the sidewalks of Market Street.

We decided to go out to dinner; since the restaurants downtown looked packed, we opted for Joe's Crab Shack at Water Tower Place. In theory, we have a card that entitles us to immediate seating. In practice, since we were with a group of people, bringing our party size to eight, we had to wait half an hour for one of the two big inside tables to open up (there is a large table outside, too, but the plethora of smokers in the outside dining area made it an unappealing option).

As we headed for our friends' van (since we had walked downtown, we were at their mercy for transportation to WTP), we paused at the end of Market Street to watch a group of children making snow angels in the soap suds. It was so neat to see the delight on their faces and hear their excited giggles. Forget the 5 a.m. sales and the mob scenes at the malls...it was in that moment, among the happy squeals of the wee ones, that I knew the holiday season had officially begun.

Click here for my Holiday Survival Guide and a guide to Keeping New Years Resolutions on my business website.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

A Thanksgiving Celebration

2005 was our first "official" Thanksgiving in Celebration. Even though we were commuting last year, we spent the holiday onboard the Disney Wonder, as we had done since 1999. The three-night cruise normally runs from Thursday to Sunday, which fit nicely into our work holidays. We committed to spending Christmas with family, but Turkey Day was always spent out on the deep, blue ocean, enjoying a dinner with all the trimmings but none of the work.

This year, Disney switched its schedule so crew members wouldn't have to work at Port Canaveral on Thanksgiving Day and guests wouldn't have to board on the holiday. Many people fly in the day of their cruise, which can be rather hectic. The old schedule required them to head out to the port, get settled in their staterooms, and attend the safety drill...quite a lot to pack into the day before you sit down to a holiday meal.

Instead, the three-day cruise was switched to Sunday, meaning it would end on Wednesday. The holiday cruisers would then sail for four days, from Wednesday to Sunday, when the ship would return to its normal schedule.

Back when we booked our cruise, we didn't know that we'd be living full-time in Celebration by the time our sail date rolled around. The four-day Thanksgiving cruise wouldn't fit into our schedule or budget, so we opted for the three-day sailing beforehand.

When we drove to Port Canaveral on Sunday, my brain kept insisting that it was a weekday. More than half of our 47 Disney cruises have been on the Wonder, and all of them (except for two four-day sailings) have left on a Thursday. My sense of timing was entirely thrown off, but soon it wouldn't matter because we'd be on vacation, with our cares and cautions thrown to the wind.

Since we would be back at Duloc Manor for Thanksgiving, last week it finally dawned on me that I should make some dinner plans. In Chicago, before we started spending Turkey Day at sea, my husband would either cook a ham feast or we'd head over to my brother's house. This year, he didn't feel like cooking, nor did we want to fly north into the bitter cold (it was 12 degrees in Chicago today, which is obnoxiously chilly for November). Instead, we decided to book a nice meal at a Disney World restaurant.

Since so many tourists visit for the holidays, most of the eateries at Disney offer a special Thanksgving menu. As I dialed 407-WDW-DINE, my husband snickered at my optimism. "Yeah, right, like there's going to be any room left anywhere," he said. "Aw, come on," I countered, "Thanksgiving is still a whole week away. Surely there's space somewhere, especially if we're flexible." He rolled his eyes and courteously refrained from reminding me that Fantasyland is eight miles away.

I was hoping to dine at either Jiko or Artists Point, two of our all-time favorite Disney eateries. I wasn't going to try for any of the restaurants in the theme parks because if the park itself reaches capacity before you get there, you're out of luck. Unfortunately, both of those restaurants were already fully booked...as was virtually every other restaurant on Disney World property.

Frantically, I combed my memory and worked my way through every restaurant I could think of: Boma, Ohana, Chef Mickey's, the Concourse Steakhouse, Beach Blanket Buffet, Yachtsman's Steakhouse, California Grill, Citrico's, Narcoosee's, Boatwright's, and even the Flying Fish (which was actually serving a delicious-sounding Thanksgiving special). Those are just a few of the options I worked my way through, and I even tried the Downtown Disney restaurants. The only possibility was Kona Cafe, at the Polynesian, and only if we were willing to eat very early.

Hubby didn't say a word, but I caught the "I told you so" gleam in his eyes. Plan B was to start calling the restaurants on 192, I-Drive, and Sandlake Road, since neither of us was too keen on cooking. Fortunately, I was saved from additional searching when friends in Celebration invited us over for Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, when we returned from the cruise, was mostly a lazy day. We had eaten like piglets onboard the Wonder, so we needed a day to recover before indulging in a hearty holiday meal. Thank goodness the Urban Rebounder exercise trampoline I ordered is supposed to arrive on Friday; it's been a much too indulgent month already, and Christmas is still 30 long days away.

On the way home from Port Canaveral, we stopped at Perkins to pick up a cookie and mini-muffin tray that we'd ordered to bring to dinner with us. I had convinced my husband to make his famous bean salad, but while we were eating breakfast at Perkins the day before the cruise, he noticed a tempting selection of baked goods spread out on a display table. Apparently they were taking holiday orders to be picked up on Wednesday or Thursday. You can never have too many sugary holiday treats, so we ordered one of the variety plates.

Wednesday night was chilly by Florida standards. We took a late night dip in the hot tub and watched the steam rising from the 99 degree water. The outside air was in the 40s; not pleasant when we were done and had to make a shivery dash to the house, but much better than Chicago's below-freezing temps. Thanksgiving Day dawned sunny and pleasant, and the mercury rose to a comfy, balmy level. We were supposed to have an early dinner, so I ate a light breakfast of oatmeal (assisted by Farquaad, who was glad to lap up the remnants, since I top it with milk).

Our friends called with a little delay, so to kill time, we climbed in the spa. It was much warmer than the previous night's sojurn, and as I luxurated in the lounge seat, staring at the blue sky and gently swaying palm trees in the nearby preserve area, I marveled at how wonderful it is to spend Thanksgiving in Florida. No barren trees powdered with snow...no wicked wind whipping through your coat...no frost to chip off the car windows. I'll take a lively, green state with temperatures in the 70s any day, especially since Chicago's wind chill is expected to hit zero tonight.

Soon it was time to grab the goodies and head out to dinner. Our friends had cooked up an impressive spread: turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce, corn, broccoli, green bean casserole (no Thanksgiving dinner is complete without it, and it must have crunchy onions on top), mashed potatoes, stuffing, noodles, sweet potatoes topped with nuts, and rolls. For dessert, chocolate cream pie vied with tradiional pumpkin pie to win over our taste buds. They even provided my husband's favorite sippin' wine, a Publix special called "Wild Vines Blackberry Merlot" that tastes like alcohol-enhanced Koolaid. Hubby used to be a teetotaler, but over last few years, he started drinking some cheap, sweet wines. Over time, his palate has expanded, and he likes the "good stuff" now, too, but wines that would be right at home in a brown paper bag still have a special place in his heart.

The abundant meal was wonderful, and it was especially nice to be among friends. In the past, when we sailed on the Wonder for Thanksgiving, we always felt at home; we cruise so often that we know many of the crew members, so it's almost like being among family. This year, I'm sure that a restaurant meal would have been nice (especially after the Disney phone rep. read me some of the menus, which had me drooling all over the phone), but one important thing would have been missing: friends and/or family. We were thankful to spend our first Celebration Thanksgiving with some of the friends that make this such a wonderful town.

A little later, more family members arrived. There was still plenty of food; after they had finished eating, we all gathered 'round to play an intriguing little game called "Apples to Apples." It's sort of hard to explain, but it's a great, fast-moving party game that's suitable for both kids and adults. It's also somewhat (gasp!) educational, since it involves word play and some of the cards feature historical figures.

Each player has a set of noun cards (persons, places, and things, as you might remember from "Schoolhouse Rock." During each round, one player draws an adjective card, and everyone else must choose a noun card that most closely matches or fits with it. The "adjective player" then collects the cards and chooses which he/she thinks is the best match. However, "best" is a subjective term, based entirely on that player's whim. It might be the funniest match, or even something so ridiculous that it tickles their fancy.

Each person takes a turn drawing an adjective and selecting the winner for each round. The overall winner is the player who makes a pre-set number of matches first.

I know that my description is hideously confusing; believe me, it a lot more fun than my Cliff Notes version makes it sound. Sometimes you're stuck with noun cards that are nowhere close to the adjective, and sometimes you have the perfect card. More often, you'll have some choices that are open to various interpretations. All of this makes for some interesting, and sometimes even hilarious, combinations. I think we ended up playing four spirited games before finally calling it a night.

As we wound through the streets of Celebration, we noticed that Christmas lights had sprung up on many of the houses as if by magic. On Friday, I knew that the nightly downtown "snowfalls" would start and the streets would be packed with tourists. Once upon a time, we were among them...for almost a decade, we flocked south to spend a precious week or two between Thanksgiving and Christmas in a nice, warm climate. Now, we are Floridians, and that warm climate is home sweet home for the entire holiday season and beyond. That, along with good friends, is truly something to be thankful for.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

I Love Celebration in the Winter

Ah, how I love Celebration in the winter! Actually, it's not officially winter yet, but it's getting too close for comfort. My husband called from Chicago this morning, complaining about wind chills in the single digits. Cold, wind, frostbite...ugh! I've been living in Florida full-time for almost a year, but I instantly had a flashback to long, bleak winters in the Windy City.

October's not a bad month back north. The leaves are still changing, and the first chilly nights inspire people to stoke up their fireplaces, scenting the air with the perfume of woodsmoke. There are hayrides, hot apple cider, and songs around the campfire. You can feel the growing anticipation as the calendar moves closer to Halloween. To heck with Thanksgiving...the Great Pumpkin's appearance now marks the (un)official gateway to the holiday season.

But after the last piece of candy is eaten and the last jack o'lantern turns to mush, you realize that it's November. Sure, you've got Turkey Day, Christmas, and New Year ahead of you, but bitter cold and blizzards are dead ahead, too. In Chicago, the stretch between November and March is interminable. By the end, pale, shivering, frostbitten natives are firmly convinced that spring (all three days of it) will never come again.

Here in Florida, it's hard to believe that the year is nearly at an end. I know it on a logical level, but instinctually I just can't accept it. How can it be winter when the sun is still shining and the trees are still green? Yes, it's a little bit cooler outside, but not "mitten and scarf chilly"...more like "get out and enjoy it" cool.

The gorgeous weather finally lured me out today. I've been busy getting ready to lauch my new business to see what it's all about, click here), so I've been glued to my laptop. I've had the windows wide open and the ceiling fans spinning to draw in the crisp, fresh air. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get outdoors.

I donned my walking shoes and went for a hike down to Aquila Reserve, one of my favorite areas of Celebration. Many of the homes have lake or preserve land views, and the boardwalk borders the lake. It felt so good to take a brisk walk, and I also indulged in one of my favorite past-times: checking out the houses. I love to see what other people have done in their yards and gardens, and many had started putting up their holiday decorations, too. I zig zagged up the streets and down the alleys, taking in the view.

My favorite area of Aquila Reserve is in the very back, where sprawling estate homes back up onto the lake or overlook heavily wooded areas. Although Aquila is part of Celebration, it's isolated back in its own little world. The woods still shelter wild turkeys and deer that come out to visit in the evening. Since my little corner of East Village borders the woods, too, we also get frequent wildlife visitors. It's such a treat to live only eight miles from the front gate of the Magic Kingdom and have the bonus of wild critter neighbors, too.

My husband will be home soon, and I can just imagine how happy he'll be to shed his winter coat and bask in Florida's balmy temperatures. Back when we were tourists, visiting Disney World two or three times a year, we would head off the plane and onto the jetway, feel the humidity engulf us, and breath a sigh of relief.

No, I don't miss Chicago, especially at this time of year. Celebration in the winter is the place to be!

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Rudolph the Politically Incorrect Reindeer

Since the Rankin-Bass classic, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," plays a big role in my holiday decor this year, it's been on my mind lately. If you really think about it, "Rudolph" is a very politically incorrect cartoon. I'm surprised there hasn't been a P.C. sequel like the travesty that features John Goodman as Frosty the Snowman, featuring a solstice-celebrating youngster. I'm all for honoring other traditions, religions, and holidays, but it annoys me when it's done in an obvious "look at how warm-and-fuzzy and inclusive we can be" manner.

Still, given the messages that Rudolph sends, there are a lot of places where the story could be shored up for a contemporary audience. For example, poor Rudolph is ostracized unmercifully by the rest of the young reindeer herd. In this day and age, the other young bucks would be forced into a sensitivity class to learn how to deal with "differently-abled" playmates sensitively and appropriately.

Donner, the coach, tears into little Rudy quite cruelly, too. If that was nowadays, I smell a big lawsuit. Rudolph's mom and dad surely could have won a cool million pounds of corn for the willful infliction of emotional distress on their physically challenged youngster. Rather than being excluded from the reindeer games, those games would be modified to accommodate Rudolph's "specialness" (I can just imagine who would win a "find your way through the dark cave" competition).

Actually, I think the Reindeer Games were a bit too competitive; the reindeer who weren't as good at flying had their fragile little self-esteems crushed. Donner should have been forced to create "competitions" where everyone is a winner. After all, the concept that the world should adapt to you and always make you feel warm and fuzzy is an important lesson that every young reindeer should learn as soon as possible.

When Rudolph reaches adulthood, he shouldn't have to put up with Santa Claus's blatant discrimination. After all, he's already proven that he's the most qualified critter for the job despite that bright, rosy honker (or, actually, because of it). In an appropriately updated version, he could file suit under the North Pole-ians with Disabilities Act rather than be forced to wait for a foggy night to prove himself.

I also suspect that Santa Claus might be the victim of an eating disorder. It's no wonder, what with Mrs. Claus following him around, demanding, "Eat, Santa, eat!" and sending him negative body image messages like "Nobody likes a skinny Santa."

Furthermore, the treatment of indigenous creatures (i.e. The Bumble) is nothing short of shameful. To have his teeth yanked out without benefit of anesthetic and then to be forced into a servile role is a glaring example of exploitation. But then again, it's no wonder that Hermey the Elf has unresolved anger issues that manifest themselves in Bumble abuse. The poor little dentist wanna-be is a helpless victim of stereotyping. After all, all elves made toys just like all Native Americans run casinos or all Indians work at 7/11, right?

Nobody thought about those issues when "Rudolph" was created 40 years ago. It was a rougher and less-easily-offended world back then, but somehow most of us who were raised in it managed to turn out okay.

Still, kids are impressionable, so I'm glad that modern cartoons and television shows are becoming more realistic and inclusive. The progress hasn't been as rapid as you might think. Just 15 years ago, in 1990, an episode of "The Simpsons" was going to feature a gay man, Karl, as Homer's secretary (voiced by Harvey Fierstein). The ensuing outcry forced them to change the episode; it contained many "hints," but never came right out and confirmed Karl's orientation.

By 1997, an openly gay kitsch store proprietor appears, and this year Marge's sister, Patty, came out of the closet as a lesbian (although there have been many hints about her in previous episodes).

Of course, my favorite example of inclusiveness is Virgin Mobile's new holiday, Chrismahanukwanzakah, created in 2004 as an ad campaign. The official date of their "all-inclusive celebration" was December 13, when they honored Christians, Muslims, Pagans, Jews, Agnostics, Scientologists, and just about any other group you can think of.

This year, they have ressurected their website, although sadly it doesn't feature the original song or commercial (thankfully, I saved them to CD last year). They also have a gift hotline, 1-888-ELP-POOP, where you can get gift-giving guidance from Jews, a Hindu Santa, a gay elf, a Black Muslim, or other the Chrismahanukwanzakah characters.

Yes, in the brave new millenia of 2000, it's a very different world. A cartoon like "Rudolph" would never pass muster in this day and age, but I still consider it a classic. As a little kid, I never pondered the societal implications; I just glued my eyes to the television like a good little Baby Boomer to get my yearly fix (remember, in those dark days, there were no such things as DVDs...we actually had to wait a whole year between holiday shows). It may have its politically incorrect moments, but at least it has the requisite happy ending. And when you're a kid, that's what matters the most.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Getting Into The Christmas Spirit

I'm getting into the Christmas spirit a little early this year, since Duloc Manor is one of the houses on the Holiday Home Tour. Over the past year, I've been boosting my collection of Rankin-Bass figures and decor. The tour is in early December, so now that Thanksgiving is fast approaching, I decided that it was time for an inventory.

Back in Chicago, I have a collection of character dolls and figures that are all still confined in their original wrappers (think Stinky Pete the Prospector in "Toy Story 2"). Personalities from Dennis Rodman (complete with extra dress-up outfits) to Ed Grimley to Dilbert to Drew Carey line the shelves of our condo loft, since there is no room for them in Duloc Manor. I've had some of my Rankin-Bass figures for a few years, but they've never been out of their boxes. After a decade of collecting, it was difficult for me to steel my resolve and destroy their "mint" condition.

The whole doll collecting neurosis is something I undoubtedly inherited from my mother. She had some strange traits where toys were concerned; I wasn't allowed to touch most of my childhood "playthings." They sat on shelves for admiring, not for tea parties or romps in the park or snuggling with at bedtime. Oddly enough, her obsession extended to other types of toys, too. I still remember my first grade birthday party, when I excitedly tore open all the packages in a frenzy of delight. The item that I had my eye on most was something called "Bangles," which was basically a big, purple box of beads and baubles to make your own jewelry.

Unfortunately, the minute the house was cleared of guests, good old Ma stacked up all my presents, marched them down to the basement, and placed them up on a high shelf where they remained until the house was sold many, many years later. Sometimes I would gaze up at them longingly, but I knew better than to do anything but look from afar. Somehow, I don't think a box of bangles had any collectible value; goodness only knows what was on Mommy Dearest's mind.

So now here I am, doing the same thing a generation later, which my brother loves to tease me for (but believe me, if I had kids, they would be allowed to manhandle and mangle their toys as much as they wanted...I'd no doubt have a tribe of little Sids). It was probably quite therapeutic to rip open those boxes and free the playthings within. By the time I had managed to wrestle all of the little figures out of the mountains of tape and twist ties, I was exhausted! I don't think the Crown Jewels could have been packaged more securely than those little plastic figures.

The family room had been transformed into a wasteland of plastic and cardboard...or, if you're a feline, a wonderful kitty playground. I let the cats romp among the refuse until I heard the garbage truck coming. Our trash pickup in Celebration has been very erratic lately, so when you hear the garbage men, you'd better make sure that your junk is out. I frantically shooed the cats and consolidated everything I could; I made it to the alley in the nick of time.

Slowly but surely, Rudolph and his gang took over the entertainment center and spread onto the table. In the front room, I placed my Christmas Story figures, and in the upstairs bedroom the Disney Cruise Line theme was challenged by Charlie Brown and his gang marching across the dresser with their motley little tree.

As my house filled with memories of my favorite childhood cartoons, I could feel an early bout of the Christmas spirit overtaking me. Maybe I'm too old to play with toys now, but it made me smile to see Snow Miser grinning above the television and the Bumble hanging from the kitchen light fixture. In the front room, a replica of the "fragile" (pronounce that frah-ghee-lay) leg lamp cast a soft, yellow glow. I think that's one of the reasons that I love Celebration so much; my childhood was deferred, so now it's wonderful to live just a stone's throw from the Magic Kingdom, where anyone can indulge ther childlike wonder, no matter what their age.

Being surrounded by decorations all day Monday put me into a Christmas music mood by Tuesday. I dug out my holiday CDs and slipped them, one by one, into my laptop to serenade me as I plowed through all the work that had stacked up while I was on vacation.

Soon, I was thinking back to my first Christmas season in Celebration. It was way back in 2002, when Duloc Manor was still just a big patch of sand and East Village Three was a spec of color on the map. My husband and I were residents in waiting who had stopped downtown for "Now Snowing Nightly," the annual hourly blizzard of soapsuds that reminds those of us who fled from the North of just why we prefer Florida.

In 2002 (and in 2003, when our new house was a mere three months old), The Celebration Company (aka Disney) still owned Downtown Celebration. As the soapy snow coated the street, they played a medley of seasonal tunes through tinny speakers. I really liked one of the songs, but it was something that I had never heard before...very upbeat and perky. Since they played it in '02 and '03, I assumed that I'd hear it in 2004, too. I was hoping to catch some of the words so I could hunt down the elusive tune on the internet.

No such luck...Lexin, the new owner of downtown, totally changed the recording. I won't even go into the corny verbage, and the montage of songs was completely different too. I was very disappointed, but then I forgot all about it until another Celebration Christmas loomed ahead.

Thankfully, a friend in town had the 2003 snowfall on video. He was able to pick out enough of the words, even above the children's laughing and yelling, to identify the mystery song as "Merry Christmas Everyone" by someone named Shakin' Steven, circa 1985.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, as I've always been a fan of offbeat Christmas songs. I like some traditional tunes, such as "Carol of the Bells" and "Silver Bells," but I also love some obscure numbers like "A Spaceman Came Travelling" by Chris De Burgh and Little River Band's version of "Mary's Boy Child." Here's my ultimate Christmas song list so you can see my eclectic taste:

Carol of the Bells
Silver Bells
Do They Know It's Christmas
Theme from Christmas Vacation
Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth (David Bowie/Bing Crosby Version)
Merry Christmas Everyone
Feliz Navidad
Mary's Boy Child (Harry Belafonte and Little River Band versons)
Happy Xmas (War is Over)
Step Into Christmas (Elton John)
A Spaceman Came Travelling (Chris De Burgh)
Snoopy's Christmas
Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer (original version)
All Alone on Christmas (from Home Alone 2)
What Are You Doing New Years Eve (Dante & The Evergreens version)

I was able to locate a Shakin' Steven holiday CD on Amazon, but I should have remembered that God has a wicked sense of humor. I was shuffling through my CDs, most of which are Christmas collections that I bought for one or two songs. Thus, I only play those particular songs, and the rest of the CD goes unheard. Lo and behold! On an album called "It's Christmas Time," which I'd bought for "Do They Know It's Christmas" and "A Spaceman Came Travelling," the long-sought-after name popped off the liner and smacked me right in the eye. For three years, I've longed for that song, and for three years it's been as close as my music rack...right there on the CD I was holding in my hand!!

I quickly slipped the disc into my laptop and lost myself in memories of my very first Christmas season in Celebration. The computer's tinny speaker gave the experience an air of authenticity...it helped me imagine that I was on Market Street, dancing around in the bubbly "snowflakes" and marvelling that I was standing in a blizzard in a 70-degree land of palm trees.

Another year is rapidly drawing to a close; as soon as Thanksgiving arrives, the passage of time will jump to warp speed and Christmas will be here and gone...before we know it, it will be a new year already. I'm glad that I've gotten a jump start on the holiday season. You can never have enough happiness and goodwill, and you have to grasp those fleeting moments when you feel like a child again because they become so rare as the years advance.

I'll close with the immortal words of Shakin' Steven (that first verse sums up my feelings during the downtown snowfall perfectly):

"Snow is falling
all around me
children playing
having fun
it's the season
love and understanding
merry christmas everyone

time for parties and celebration
people dancing all night long
time for presents
and exchanging kisses
time for singing christmas songs"

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Another Founders Day

It's hard to believe, but my husband and I celebrated our third Founders Day in Celebration this year. For the uninitiated, Founders Day is a pseudo-holiday created by Disney to "create a tradition" and foster a sense of community. It is held each year in early November, and as the name implies, it celebrates the founding of our town.

The festivities typically start on Friday night with a community carnival that is reminiscent of an old-time fun fair. For the past two years, hubby and I missed the carnival because we were still commuting from Chicago. We had to fly to Florida after putting in a full work day, so we didn't land until somewhere around midnight, when the carnival was long over.

This year, I was looking forward to attending it for the first time. The nice thing about the Friday event is that it's mainly for residents. I don't mind big, crowded tourist extravaganzas, but it's nice to have some happenings that are geared primarily towards the locals. Unfortunately, I soon realized that our timing was off for yet another year. We were scheduled for a Disney cruise the week of 11/5, so on the day of the carnival we would be sunning ourselves on Disney's private island.

Oh well, at least we'd be back on Saturday for the main festivities. These include "Taste of Celebration" (mainly, the same old food booths from the same downtown restaurants that are trotted out for every special event), and the flag raising/brick unveiling ceremony. We like to watch the mad "brick stampede" each year, as new residents frantically search for the little red rectangle commemorating the purchase of their home. You have to purchase new construction in order to get a brick, and the new additions for the past year are unveiled each Founders Day. They're in no special order, so once the blue tarp is thrown back, it's every new resident for themselves as people scatter in search of their names.

It took us so long to find our brick way back in 2003 that I was half convinced it was all a big practical joke. I suspected that the people who were shouting, "Wow! There is is!" were merely shills, planted to give the rest of us poor schmucks hope. After an hour or two, the old timers would form a circle around us, laughing and chanting, "Suckers!" Then I found my next door neighbors' brick, and finally I located ours, strategically located between the "D" and "I" in the word "Florida" that rings the flagpole.

Back then, most of the other names didn't mean a thing to me. Now, when I drag unsuspecting visitors to the brick patch, I recognize many of the names as I direct them to the one that commemorates "Barb & Tony's Place" (while most people have their family name, you can put whatever you want on it).

But my favorite part of Founder's Day is the town photo, where as many Celebration residents as possible cram onto the lawn at Lakeside Park, smile, and say "Cheese" for a group shot that is taken overhead from a crane. Or at least that is the theory...in practice, the crowd has gotten progressively smaller each year. The first year we took part, everyone had to get up close and personal in order to fit into the designated area (the grass is marked with tape strips that mark the camera's boundaries). Last year, the crowd was markedly more sparse. Both shots are hanging on the wall in my hallway, and different is quite striking.

This year, the amount of people was even more anemic. But still, it's a matter of pride for my husband and I to take part. We wore our Bunny Brigade headgear (monorail "ears" and green diddly-boppers), as did several other members of the Brigade. I can't wait to see how it turns out, with fuzzy ears sticking up amidst the sea of faces. The photo appears in Celebration News, and Town Hall typically sells prints, so yet another piece of artwork will soon be added to my hallway. It's sad that the trio of photos is also a chronicle of the dwindling attendance.

I wonder if bribery has anything to do with it. At our first Founders Day, there was a big raffle with all sorts of tempting prizes, ranging from a stay at the Celebration Hotel and golf at the local course to gift certificates for local businesses and restaurants. Leave it to me to win the golf, since I've never played anything other than Putt-Putt in my life! Fortunately, I was able to swap with someone for a Seito gift certificate, which I knew that my sushi-loving husband would appreciate. The raffle tickets were handed out just before the photo was taken, and the prizes were awarded afterwards (not just after the photo, but at the end of the community service awards ceremony), so there was a captive audience. There were lots of speeches that year, but I doubt that many of the residents really heard them; they were inwardly salivating at the prospect of snaring a prize.

Last year, there was another raffle, but on a decidedly smaller scale. There were several items, but you had to select just one of them and enter your ticket in the specific drawing for that item.

This year, there was no raffle at all. Once the photo was over, most of the people scattered to the four winds before the awards ceremony. It's a shame because they missed the official naming of our downtown lake (now dubbed Lake Rianhard after a very special, inspirational member of the community). After that, the small crowd headed to the downtown stage, where the awards would be handed out. It was still early (there is a "residents' preview" before the "Taste of Celebration," i.e. the food booths, are officially opened to the general public), so there weren't too many people in the Market Street area yet.

The spouse of the Bunny Brigade's High Priestess was one of the award recipients (no, not because he is married to the founder/leader of Celebration's premier social organization; he is a very active community volunteer). After applauding the winners, we headed to a lakeside table to down some sangria; it wouldn't be a downtown Celebration event without the Columbia Restaurant's sigature alcoholic concoction.

Our next door neighbors had shown up for the photo too (and, as good Bunny Brigade members, at least one of them donned the sacred ears). They joined us for a drink, and since they hadn't had dinner yet, we piled into Canyonero and headed to Logan's Roadhouse, just across 192. Yes, I know it was "Taste of Celebration," but there's only so many times you can eat food from the same vendors. We've been attending downtown festivities since 2003, so I could find the booths with my eyes shut and recite their menus from memory.

We made it to Logan's just before the massive dinner rush. We only had to wait about 10 minutes or so, but my neighbor didn't mind because she'd grabbed a bucket of peanuts. While we waited, she munched on the tasty goobers, tossing the shells on the floor (which is the accepted custom at the roadhouse). Even when we were ushered to our table, she clung possessively to her nut bucket.

We all enjoyed a delicious meal of various styles of dead cow. There is a cattle pasture just down the road from Logan's, and as I enjoy a tasty steak, I can't help but picture the chef slipping out the back door with a sledgehammer and crooning, "Here, Bossy! Come here!"

We debated heading back downtown after the meal, but parking was scarce so we gave up and called it a night. Hopefully the proliferation of cars meant that there was a good turnout. One of the big draws of Founder's Day was absent this year: The fireworks. People tended to head downtown early to secure a good lakeside table, which they would guard against all comers until showtime. Now, with nothing to look forward to, I wonder if attendees stayed as long. And I wonder how many still thought they were going to see a fireworks display and who got a rude surprise at 9 p.m.!

The continued shrinkage of the crowd worries me. Special events are one of the things that makes Celebration unique; losing them will push us a few notches closer to being just another Florida subdivision.

Sunday was much more heartening for the future of community events. After church, we headed to the Farmer's Market, which recently moved from the vast wasteland of the 851 Building parking lot to Market Street, and I was pleased to see a steady stream of browsers wandering among the booths.

When the Farmer's Market first returned to town after its summer hiatus, it looked like yet another Celebration institution might go the way of the Beach Party, pedal boats, downtown apartments, and Lights & Lemonade. Its old location on Front Street had been made impractical by construction work on the controversial downtown condos. Initially, it was moved to the 851 Building because there is a large parking lot and access to restrooms at the school gym.

Unfortunately, while the facilities might have been technically better, most people had no clue that the market was even there. It needs foot traffic to survive; not just Celebration residents, but the tourists and visitors who frequent the downtown streets over the weekend. The new location was much too far from the beaten path to attract any of those critical customers.

We visited the market a couple of times while it was in exile. The second time, the number of merchants was noticably less (customers were virtually non-existent both times). Thankfully, the public outcry brought about a move, and now it's back in the midst of the foot traffic. Actually, the present location, right in the middle of Market Street, is even better. It's convenient for locals to walk over after church, and it's right by the shops and restaurants where it can attract the patrons who are just visitng town.

As we headed towards the cluster of booths so I could get my fresh lemonade and pastry fix, I quickly noticed that it looked like a lively, thriving market rather than a motley, abandoned afterthought. If it remains in the new location, I think it will be with us for a long time to come.

If you'd like to see photos from Founders Day (courtesy of Jan and Charlie), click here (note: there are lots of pics, so it will load slowly).

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Celebrating Halloween

Finally! My first full Halloween in Celebration!

Even though we've owned Duloc Manor for two years, we were still commuting back and forth to the Midwest. Now that we've settled into Celebration permanently, I can finally enjoy my favorite holiday properly.

I'm suffering from a Halloween deficit, having lived in a condo for almost a decade. Before that, I lived in a townhome where my husband and I put on a spectacle each year. Outside, our house looked plain and unassuming (albeit like something out of the 70s, since it was sided in a groovy shade of avocado). But once the kids knocked on the door, they'd be greeted by my husband in a tattered, bloody t-shirt with a handcuff dangling from his wrist. He'd thrust a handful of candy at them and yell, "Hurry! Take the candy and run! You've got to escape before SHE gets back." Then I'd burst out of hiding, wearing a Grim Reaper get-up, complete with bloody knife. I'd drag poor hubby back into the house and slam the door to his screams.

We built up quite a reputation among the neighborhood kids. On one notable Halloween, a group came to the door while my husband was on a potty break. They weren't satisfied with a lone Grim Reaper; they chanted, "Do the show!" I sent them away for a few minutes, and they returned when hubby was done with his pit stop.

Sometimes I wonder if the people who bought that townhome wondered why they got so many trick-or-treaters the first year or two. Meanwhile, we moved into a third-floor condo, and I went through several years of Halloween deficit. To make up for some of it, my husband and I became haunted house connesuiers. There wasn't a church, school, or community spookhouse fund raiser within 30 miles (or sometimes more) that we didn't visit.

Some of the more notable haunted houses we visited were the one with live rats, the one with a slide from the top floor to the ground floor, and the one in an abandoned church where you were locked into a claustrophobic "elevator" and buried in Chuckie Cheese-style balls (in pitch darkness, when you have no idea what's going on, it's much scarier than it sounds). We also enjoyed the "alien base" where you were blinded with a spotlight and then thrust into complete darkness, eventually finding your way out into a direct line of machine-gun fire. The most unique had to be a church-sponsored haunted house, held in a vacant store in a semi-abandoned shopping mall. In addition to the traditional scenes, there was a graphic depiction of the crucifiction, and then you had to walk over "Hell," complete with tortured souls being pitchforked by shrieking demons.

We also tried to get to Six Flags every year, although their haunted houses tended to be polarized...either really great or really awful. The scariest was the year that we got in after waiting over an hour, only to hear the announcement, "This attraction has temporarily ceased operation"...now, that was scary! Occasionally, we'd check out the Halloween festivities as Six Flags parks in other states, and even at Cedar Point (my favorite amusement park). And of course we did Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party; the best part of that is the Headless Horseman.

Now that we have our home in Celebration, I can once again greet the trick-or-treaters. We didn't do anything too elaborate this year, as I wasn't sure how many kids would show up. Although Main Village (i.e. Downtown Celebration) tends to be a mob scene, East Village is off the beaten path, and Duloc Manor is tucked away on a cul de sac. Thus, I decided to go for modest-but-inviting. I put pumpkin lights out in the flower bed, a light-up spider in the front bush, and an inflatable black cat to guard the front door. In keeping with the cat-and-pumpkin theme, I found a perfect decorative wreath at Cracker Barrel.

Publix had an awesome giant inflatable Snoopy/Woodstock, but they were too pricey. Lo and behold, while grocery shopping today, I discovered that they were 50 percent off. Soon they were staked out on my lawn to greet the tick-or-treaters.

The days leading up to Halloween were a whirlwind. We did the Haunted Trolley Tour described in my previous blog entry, and we also went to a costume party over the weekend. I had an inflatable cowgirl-on-a-horse outfit, and I somehow talked poor hubby into wearing a hospital gown with an open back and a very prominent fake butt.

Parties are fun, but I still miss trick-or-treating (probably the voyeur in me; I enjoyed the candy, but the best part was knocking on strangers' doors and peeking into their houses). If I were given the opportunity to do just one childhood experience over again, it would have to be one of those wonderful, reckless Halloween nights. When I was a kid, we trick-or-treated for hours, traveling far from home. The only thing that stopped us was when our bulging shopping bags became too heavy to carry. We didn't worry about tainted candy; our favorite goodies were the homemade treats like caramel apples and popcorn balls.

Things are different now. Trick-or-treating is a cautious, controlled experience. I'm sure it's still fun, but I'm sad that the children of today will never know that wonderful sense of freedom.

But since I can't beg from door to door myself, I can still enliven the experience for the kiddies. I donned my inflatable horse costume, complete with a fresh set of batteries, filled up a basket with chocolate temptations, and waited for the doorbell to ring.

I had planned a quick jaunt to Main Village first, as I wanted to see the legendary crowds firsthand. Last year, my husband and I flew back to Chicago on Halloween afternoon. As we drove down Celebration Avenue on our way to the airport, we saw the mass of people already gathering. There were literally busloads of trick-or-treaters pulling into town! I was dying to stay, but that wasn't a possibility.

This year, at least I was in Florida, but I ended up having to stay around the East Village homestead. A phone company technician came out to install a new line this afternoon, since I am starting a new business this month. Unfortunately, he needed to run it from the main box in the alley, and the line was nowhere to be found. All the other lots are tagged, but ours is missing. Finally, he had to give up till tomorrow, but by that time it was too late to head out.

Oh well, it was after five, the official start time of Halloween. The candy was ready, my costume was ready, and Stitch-kitty was ready to sprint out the door the moment it opened. I brought my laptop into the front-room so I could do some work while anticipating the first little goblins of the night.

Trick-or-treat started out slow; at first, I was beginning to worry that we might not get anyone at all! There were only a few houses on my cul de sac with their porch lights on (signifying that they were handing out candy), so perhaps some of the kids didn't want to veer from the main street for a relatively small payoff. Fortunately, the children started to trickle in, and then they began arriving more steadily. I was glad that I had bought Snoopy because he is huge and he lights up. Our house is smack dab in the middle of the block, so he stood like a beacon once darkness had fallen.

I didn't get nearly as many youngsters as those in the main part of town (one person reported 500 by 7:30!). But the doorbell rang steadily from 5:30 to about 7:30, and the last group arrived a little past 8. I made it about 3/4 of the way through a 100-piece bag of candy, although I let most of the kids take more than one. Farquaad and Tooncinator stayed out of sight, but Stitch managed to escape twice. Fortunately, he doesn't go far, especially when there are admirers on hand to pet him and make a fuss over him. He's mostly black, so he makes a perfect Halloween cat.

I love seeing the kids' costumes. Superheros and Star Wars were both big this year; I liked the Batman and Spiderman costumes with light-up fiber optic logos. A lot of the youngsters were also carrying multi-colored glow sticks for safety. The kids (and some of the adults) got a kick out of my costume, too. It was rather unwieldly, since I had to maneuver a huge inflated horse head and legs in front of me while a mini fan vibrated disconcertingly on my butt, but the peoples' reactions were well worth it.

Now it's 9 o'clock, and there hasn't been a knock on the door for almost an hour. Halloween is over for another year, and the rush-rush Christmas season will burst forth in full bloom by tomorrow. But even though Thanksgiving and Christmas get all the big play, Halloween will always be my favorite. Now that I live in Celebration, it will be better than ever...I'm already planning how I'll expand my decorations next year.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Halloween Bunnies

It's Halloween weekend, and the Bunny Brigade of Celebration, Florida, has already started the party! (NOTE: If you want to see photos, click here.)

This weekend, the Celebration Trolley is touring some of the best-decorated houses. For $5, you can pile on and embark on a haunted adventure. Thus, on Friday night, the Bunnies were out in force, converging on the downtown trolley stop.

Since two of my neighbors were joining us, they packed into Canyonero with my husband and I for the brief jaunt to Front Street. We decided to leave a little early so we could stop at Barnie's for some liquid refreshment. Usually I go for the Coffee Coolers, which I am convinced contain addictive drugs, but this time I was swayed by an iced chai. The rest of our merry little band selected coffee drinks, and then we headed off to meet the other Bunnies.

For those who may not be rabid followers of my blog, the Bunny Brigade is a loose-knit social club, made up of pretty much anyone who is willing to don fuzzy pastel bunny ears in public, drink, carouse, and generally have a good time. To paraphrase the immortal words of Ed Wood, as quoted by Tim Burton in his classic movie, "We're not judgemental; if we were, we wouldn't have any members." We've been in existence a little over a year (our first event was stalking the Tampa Bay Bucs in the Town Tavern when they were staying at the hotel in town back in 2005), but we've already managed to attain a decent degree of notoriety.

As we headed for the trolley stop, it was easy to spot our fellow Brigade members. We simply homed in on the forest of fuzzy ears. We were planning to take the 7:30 tour, which would make it dark enough to get the full effect of the lights and decorations.

Ticket sales were being conducted by Peter Pan and the Devil...quite a polar combination! Soon, everyone had their tickets in hand; I'll admit we got some odd looks and comments as we packed the queue line, awaiting our ride into the nether regions of Celebration. The tourists (and probably some of the locals) couldn't help but wonder why a group of grown people had gathered together in front of the lake in bunny headdresses. It probably wouldn't be as shocking to the out-of-towners if we were all clad in Mickey Mouse ears. After all, we're the "Disney Town." But remember, long before he created the world-famous rodent, Walt's first character was Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Thus, while it may not be apparent to non-Disneyphiles, we're paying homage to Uncle Walt in our own small way.

Of course, there were plenty of people who knew us, too. One of our members, who couldn't join the tour because she was waiting for a table at Max's with visiting family members, spotted us and dashed across the street, exclaiming, "My people! My people!" Another interrupted his birthday celebration to stop by for a quick hello.

The trolley was running a bit late, but we knew that it would show up eventually because we had passed it on our way downtown. We saw it heading toward Artisan Park as we turned out of East Village. The 6:30 run looked like it was full, and judging from the crowd of people that had filled in behind us, 7:30 was going to be packed to the rafters, too.

Soon, our Halloween chariot had arrived, and we piled on in wild anticipation. Peter Pan boarded with us, joining Tinker Bell and our driver, Wacky Willy. The Bunny Brigade took up about a third of the trolley space, scattered among other locals and tourists, but I think we accounted for 90 percent of the rowdiness.

As we drove through Celebration, Tinker Bell shared some town trivia. I learned some new facts about my hometown; for example, the only residential street with palm trees is East Lawn. I drive down that street nearly every day, and I never realized that! We also had the honor of having a couple onboard who are not only Bunny Brigade members, but also two of the town's original residents. They've lived in Celebration since 1996, so next year will mark a decade for them.

We headed over to East Village, where we oogled at the lights and had a visit "Grandma," who passed out candy through the trolley windows. Then it was off to Artisan Park for more decorated houses before we wove our way back through West Village towards the main part of town and the highlight of the tour. We stopped by Verandah Place, where some enterprising residents have set up an actual walk-through haunted house in their yard and garage! The elaborate props, scenes, and monsters were on a par with some of the professional haunted houses I've seen. At the end, those brave enough to make it through were rewarded with candy bars. I selected a Hersheys with Almonds, while hubby (who has obviously been brainwashed by too much "Simpsons") selected a Butterfinger.

Apparently, the Bunny Brigade has achieved a small degree of infamy in town. As we piled out at the haunted house, the home owners actually recognized us! Of course, the ears are a dead giveaway, but wearing weird get-ups is not necessarily unusual at Halloween. We were pleased to be recognized as a year-'round group of crazies rather than fair-weather partiers who only parade our propensity for wearing fake animal parts once a year.

To cap the tour, we headed off for an elaborate set-up in North Village (my favorite part is the Area 51 alien scene) before we returned to Front Street to let the next group of revelers on board. It was great fun, and I'm hoping that it becomes an annual event.

The night was still young, so the Bunny Brigade simply moved the party to the home of our Grande Dame/High Priestess. With the margaritas flowing freely, we addressed such deep philosophical questions as "Have aliens visited the earth?", "Are ghosts real?", and "Do Heaven and Hell exist?" But as the alcohol level rose, the conversation deteriorated into Celebration gossip and our favorite memories of the Mickey Mommas visit to the Cypress Cove nudist resort (which I chronicled a few blog entries back).

If you haven't already checked out the Halloween photos, click here!

Eventually we all drifted out into the night (I think it was around midnight, which is fitting for a Halloween gathering) and headed back to our respective villages. We had kicked off the holiday weekend with a bang, so now it was time to rest up and regain our strength for two more days of partying.

For those of you who are in the Celebration area, there are still two more days of trolley runs. I urge you to take the Haunted Trolley tour! Here are the details:

Oct. 28 & 29, 6:30 – 9 pm, Oct. 30, 5:30 – 9 pm
Downtown Lakeside (at the end of Market Street)
$5 for adults, $3 for kids 3 – 12 (Free for kids under 3)

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Snowbird Season

As autumn's chill sets in across the country, the snowbirds are winging their way back to Celebration. I'm glad because our little corner of East Village feels more complete during snowbird season. We have neighbors who summer in Virginia and return to Florida around October. Our block seems incomplete while they are gone; now, it feels like the "gang" is all together.

Since we keep an eye on their house while they're gone, they rewarded us with dinner tonight. We ended up at Cafe Tu Tu Tango, one of my favorite places on International Drive. I love the I-Drive area; it's easy to get to, especially if you avoid I-4 and take the backroads, and the selection of restaurants is excellent (that is, on the rare occasions that Cafe Tu Tu Tango doesn't tempt me in).

I reviewed Cafe Tu Tu Tango in an earlier blog entry, but for those who haven't read it, it's a tapas restaurant. That means the entire menu is made up of appetizers; it's the perfect place to go with an adventurous group because you can order several items to share.

Tapas are most commonly associated with Spanish restaurants, but Tu Tu Tango is quite eclectic. They have everything from duck and goat cheese salad on flat bread to pizzas, antipasto, empanadas, sloppy joe quesadillas, spinach/artichoke dip, and alligator bites. Each week, the chef creates new specials to complement the regular menu.

Cafe Tu Tu Tango has nightly entertainment, so we tried to get there a bit early to avoid the typical evening crowd. I love the restaurant's ambience...it's styled after an artist's loft, with artwork cramming every available bit of wall space. There's always at least one talented artisan at work, painting or doing some type of craft.

Since there were five of us (my husband and I, our neighbors, and one of their relatives), we had enough people to embark on a culinary adventure. None of our companions had been to Tu Tu Tango before, so we had the pleasure of describing the delights that awaiting them and working them into a drool.

We started off with a pitcher of sangria and a diverse selection of choices to share: alligator bites, antipasto, empanadas, cuban steak skewers, lobster/bacon pasta and stuffed mushrooms. I also ordered one item to hoard: a bowl of portabello mushroom soup. Soup is rather difficult to pass around the table, and in all honestly it's so delicious that I didn't want to share it. It's a special item that I've only seen on the menu twice, but it compares to the godly mushroom soup that is always available at Artists Point in the Wilderness Lodge. Maybe it's some cosmic law that restaurants that are associated with art must also have mushroom soup to die for.

Dessert was an odd combination: guava cheesecake and poached pear salad. I know that salad sounds like an odd way to cap a meal, but that particular selection is sugary enough to satisfy anyone's sweet tooth. The pears are drizzled with balsamic vinegar and served on shortbread-type cookies. They're surrounded by salad greens and bleu cheese, making an odd sweet-and-salty combination.

By the time we were ready to head back to Celebration, the entertainment was gearing up. A balloon man was creating intricate headgear for the kids, and a fortune teller was reading tarot cards at a table in the front of the restaurant. Both my neighbor and I got our cards read on a large; interestingly, my reading seemed to focus on a recent major happening in my life, even though I didn't tell the card reader anything. Then we paused to watch the belly dancers before finally taking our leave.

When we got home, another neighbor was out in the alley, so we all chatted for a while before hubby and I retired to the confines of Duloc Manor. Inside, Farquaad was waiting anxiously to tell us that it was kitty dinnertime and that he was in imminent danger of starvation...after all, it had been a full 24 hours before he'd had a can of food (in his book, the dry food that is always available doesn't count).

All around Celebration, there will be more and more signs that the snowbirds are returning. More houses will be illuminated, church congretations will slowly swell, and there will be more faces to greet around town. I'm glad it's that time of year again; I enjoy the summertime, but it feels a bit lonely. It's good to know that the East Village posse is complete once again.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Brrrrr!

Florida is supposed to be warm! So why the heck are the temperatures plummeting into the 40s at night?

Actually, I shouldn't complain because the daytime weather has been beautiful. It's a little on the nippy side, but it reminds me of those precious few days that Chicagoans call "spring" and "fall," right before they are assaulted by oppressive heat or bone-chilling cold. For that brief span of time, the weather is perfect...warm but brisk, sunny but breezy, in a perfect yin/yang balance of heat and cool.

In the daytime, we're been hovering in the 70s, and I've been in heaven. At night, the mercury dips just a bit too low. Last night, we were only one degree away from record-breaking cold, making it all the way down to 49 degrees. My husband and I took a dip in the hot tub, diving into the 99 degree water and watching the steam rise into the cold night air like a lobster pot. It took us quite a while to steel ourselves for the shivery, towel-wrapped run to the back door when we were done.

Even though the exit is rough, there is one good thing about winter dips: no bugs. I am the sort of person that a mosquito can smell a mile off, and my blood must taste like the nectar of the gods. Unless I turn on the misters (picture the cool-off stations at Disney World), the entire upper part of my body will morph into a swollen, itchy mass as every mosquito in Celebration rushes to the buffet.

The chilly nights make me glad that we opted for a hot tub. For a while, I considered a "spool" (an in-ground spa/pool combination), but an above-ground spa seemed much easier to install. Now, I realize that it's also easier (and cheaper) to heat, so we'll be able to enjoy it all year 'round. If we want to actually swim on chilly days, we can always head downtown to Lakeside Park. The lap pool there is heated, so it's a popular winter spot while the other Celebration pools are virtually deserted until June.

Back in Chicago, it's only 10 degrees cooler. However, there is one big difference: here in Central Florida, it won't get much cooler as the winter months take hold. In the Midwest, the temperature will steadily drop until it's in single digits, and then into the negative realm. We may get some rain in the Sunshine State, but up north they'll be under a blanket of ice and snow.

Supposedly, Hurricane Wilma brought in the early cold snap. By mid-week, we should be back up into the 80s before we experience our official winter chill. I'm looking forward to it because once the oppressive humidity is gone, I have no excuse to avoid walking and biking. In the summer, when the mercury is hovering in the upper 90s and you can squeeze the air like a sponge, it's too darned tempting to hole up in air conditioned comfort. My outdoor physical activity in July and August is pretty much limited to watering the garden.

Now, the gorgeous weather draws me out. This is the time of year that front porch swings and bicycle paths were made for. Stitch, my hunter kitty, likes it too. We don't allow him to roam outside alone, but in the summer I can only stand a brief period of "cat walking." As much as he loves the outdoors, even Stitch himself has a rough time in the relentless heat. He's mostly black, so his fur coat absorbs the sun's rays like a roll of Bounty towels on a cup of spilled coffee. Rather than chasing lizards, he's forced to retreat under the shady bushes in my flower bed, where it's just a bit cooler.

On gorgeous fall days, both he and I could stay outside forever. He prowls through the yard and weaves his way through the neighbors' bushes in stealth mode, hoping to sneak up on poor, unsuspecting reptiles. He rolls on the sidewalk and in the street, making sure to get as messy as possible so he can transfer the most dirt possible into the house. He lurks in the "croquet field" and leaps like an acrobat at unseen insects. He meows in crabby protest when I finally scoop him up and return him to house arrest.

I suspect we're going to have one more heat wave before the fall/winter weather settles in. I don't mind, since I'd like one last hurrah at a Disney water park before we give in and stick to the hot tub. But it's been a long, hot, sticky summer, and I'm ready for some relief. Bring on the "brrrr!"

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com

Cabin Fever

We spent a tense night waiting for Wilma, huddling in the house as thunderstorms raged outside. I'm used to powerful storms, which are a common summer occurrence in Florida. The problem with the turmoil whipped up by a hurricane is that it can easily spawn tornados.

We have a weather radio that turns on automatically when there is a severe weather warning. It kicked on several times yesterday, but none of the warnings were close to us. I was feeling pretty safe by the time I went to bed, but at 3 a.m. my husband roused me from my coma. The radio had spewed a middle-of-the-night warning that specifically mentioned Celebration.

I was much too sleepy to panic, or actually to have any sort of reaction. Finally I managed to sit up in bed, trying to force my foggy brain to digest the potential for danger. Our bedroom is on the second floor, with three big windows, so even in its sleep-addled state my mind realized that I probably should move to the downstairs futon. Unfortunately, my body wouldn't cooperate. The most I could manage was to stare out the window, trying to assess the dark, cloud-clotted sky. Unfortunately, that's nearly impossible in the middle of the night. During the day, a pre-tornado sky turns green (at least in the midwest), and a funnel cloud isn't hard to spot. In the darkness, I realized that trying to find one was a pointless exercise in futility.

I briefly debated calling some of our friends to warn them of the possible danger. It was 3 a.m., so I weighed the potential annoyance of a late-night phone call against the likeliness of a tornado actually touching down in Celebration. I figured that either a) the tornado wouldn't come, meaning I'd wake them for nothing; or b) if a funnel cloud was barreling towards us, we'd be wiped out before I could dial the first call. Neither outcome seemed too appealing (although I later learned that at least one of our friends had been awakened by her radio, too, and was debating the same thing).

Finally I decided that if I was going to die, I should at least do so in a well-rested state. I collapsed back in bed, the cats piled in with me, and soon I had returned to slumberland. Unfortunately, my poor husband couldn't push the worry from his mind, so he spent the rest of the night divided between radio and PC weather reports.

By morning, the rain was still coming down in sheets and the sky was an ominous shade of gray. I slept in because dragging my carcass out from between the sheets seemed pointless on such a depressing day. My husband slept late, too, due to his exhaustion from keeping his all-night vigil.

Eventually, as afternoon approaced, the rain slacked off and the sky slowly began to brighten. Oddly enough, the wind picked up too, even though the weather appeared to be clearing. We hadn't heard much wind overnight, but our outdoor umbrella had tipped over and our backyard tree had developed a noticable lean.

By this time, we were developing cabin fever. We'd been holed up in the house all morning, unwilling to brave the solid sheets of rain. The schools were shut down for the day, and even Disney World and Universal Studios were closed (inexplicably, Seaworld and Discovery Cove were open, although I can't imagine that too many people showed up). I wondered if the local businesses were closed, too, or if civilization would return to normal as soon as the storms had passed.

As soon as the rain retreated into a steady drizzle and the sun poked its way through the clouds, we were ready to head outdoors. It wasn't quite as exciting as exploring after last year's hurricane trio, since we hadn't suffered a direct hit. The hurricane's main muscle was focused in southern Florida, but we'd still had a rough little spate of wind and rain. We didn't see much evidence on our street, other than our tilted tree, but the street across from the preserve area was nearly lost beneath a coating of palm leaf debris. Plenty of trees around town had tilted, or even fallen. The ground was so soaked that any tree with a weak root system was a sitting duck for the wind.

Still, compared to Hurricane Charley, the damage wasn't much worse than what a strong summer thunderstorm might cause. Closing down the schools seemed like overkill, but after Florida's triple battering last year and Katrina's mass destruction in Mississippi and Louisiana this summer, I suspect that caution was running high. A shelter had even been opened in Celebration High School, although I doubt that anyone showed up.

It felt so good to finally be out and about once the storm had faded into oblivion. Oddly enough, the weather had gone from hot and humid on Sunday to a decided chill. Between the wind and a cold nip, it felt like autumn in Chicago. If I closed my eyes and used my imagination, I could easily convince myself that I was back in the state of my birth. But it didn't feel unpleasant; I found myself looking forward to finally opening the windows and airing out the house.

We joined up with some friends for a late lunch at T.G.I. Friday's, figuring that the restaurants on 192 should be open. Indeed, they were...but not Friday's! For some odd reason, it appeared to be the only eatery than was closed down.

Oh well, there were lots of other choices. We headed a couple blocks down to Perkins, which has a wonderful selection of both breakfast and lunch items. Even though it was past noon, breakfast actually sounded appealing to me. I ended up ordering eggs benedict, which included hash browns and a muffin. And what a muffin! I had their seasonal pumpkin variety, slathered thickly with cream cheese frosting, and I quickly realized that it possessed addictive properties.

Judging by the crowd in the restaurant, everyone else in the general area was itching to get outside too. By the time we had returned to Celebration, people were out and about as though it was just another normal day. The long, tense night and stormy morning felt as though they had happened a long, long time ago. It was hard to believe that we'd been suffering from cabin fever just a few hours earlier.

I know how easily the hurricane could have turned; if it had come ashore a little more north, we could have had another Charley on our hands. But thankfully it kept its distance, and we've only got a little over a month before Hurricane Season 2005 is just another memory. Then, hopefully, the weather radio will remain silent for the next eight or nine months until the cycle starts over again.

Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com