Walking ~ Days 310~316 Still Crazy After All These Years

Can you tell I’m losing interest with these walking blogs? I’m ready to move on. I have a new topic, it has something to do with the title of this particular blog. Not that I will stop walking, but I’m tired of writing about walking. And I’ve started a third novel. To be honest, I haven’t just started. I’m well on my way. 36,395 words, 88 pages, 20 chapters. It’s just the 1st draft but I like it, a lot. I can’t stop. All my writing energy is going into the book. After all, the books are my bread and butter. The only paying writing I do. If I want to keep writing I need to make some money. I am not independently wealthy. Not even close.

So where have I been walking? I liked the new Lantana Bridge so much I went back. I needed to bring some books to Finn and Tara. They sell the work of local artists in their coffee shop and were excited to include my book. A local book club is having their next meeting there and hopefully by the end of the evening, they will choose Take Me Home as their next read.

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I took a quick spin through the park at the east end of the bridge, stopping to read the educational signs along the way. It used to be the Lantana dump. Nice reclamation of a prime piece of real estate.

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Sometimes these patterns develop or maybe because I write about my days I notice them more. Around Day 312 I seemed to be visiting vintage eating spots. I met fellow author Carol White at Ellie’s 50’s Diner in Boynton Beach to brainstorm and commiserate about how difficult it is to market your book on your own, despite the “Power” of social media.

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Seriously, how many people buy a book from a Tweet? Not many, I can tell you that. We consoled ourselves with a cup of coffee and a slice of homemade pie. Apple for Carol, key lime for me.

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On Pompano Tuesdays my boss got a craving for a burger and invited me to Jack’s Old Fashioned Hamburger House for lunch, where he insisted I also go with the french fries. It is number 7 on the list of Top 15 Burgers in the U.S. to Try Before You Die. The  burgers were delicious, the booths had those little jukeboxes at the table and we saw a guy who looked like Rod Stewart.

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In Lantana, I passed by a Cuban restaurant, El Bohio, that I have been wanting to try. I checked out the menu and it’s on the list to eat there soon.

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My husband and I are walking together a lot more often these days. We usually stay nearby, walking to the beach or driving to other spots not far from home. We love the Wakadahatchee bird trail and the park near the Boynton cut, which is where the Intracoastal meets the ocean.

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There was the day of The Walk I Should Not Have Taken. I parked at the job site where my husband was working in Delray and walked along Route A1A in Highland Beach. The conspicuous consumption was mind blowing. The McMansions completely blocked the view of the ocean. There were spots along the walk where I passed along a small park at the Intracoastal that had numerous Private/Keep Out signs. I of course walked through the park to the waters edge and saw the Peacenik’s house.

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This confused me. I wondered if they were early settlers from a time long gone and how they got along with the nouveau riche neighbors. This did not strike me as a neighborhood where you would want to announce yourself as a peace symbol type of person. The walk got me all agitated and upset. I was mumbling about Teddy Roosevelt and the New Deal. Where are the Roosevelts now when we need them?

Several of the houses I passed had gate houses. I took pictures of palm trees instead. When my Dad was visiting last week, we drove along this road and his comment was, “And to think some people sleep on a bench in the park.” As my mother-in-law always said, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Or in this case, it would be the coconut.

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Sunday we went to the boat show in West Palm Beach. Tickets were expensive, so we just walked the perimeter trying to catch a glimpse of luxury boats and yachts. We had lunch at E.R. Bradley’s Saloon where I saw this vintage picture in the bathroom. For society’s rank and file who plunge not into private pools. The Bath & Tennis Club is now an exclusive private club. So much of the shoreline is Private. Keep Out. The rank and file hunt for parking spaces at the limited number of public beaches.

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We saw lots of Mazzarattis, Bentleys, and Mercedes but it was the construction of a Residence Inn that fascinated my husband. We circled the entire project twice. It was the double crane that really got his attention. He said he had never seen this before.

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He decided what they were doing was lifting the steal frame of each hotel room as a whole piece onto the building then pouring the concrete. We talked about the mechanics of this at great length as we circled the construction site a third time. Walking with my husband is a completely different adventure.

 

 

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