Migrating North

Timeless Beauty, originally uploaded by A Fool in Miami.

As we were driving north last week on I-95 on that scrubby stretch from Jacksonville to Savannah, we started to notice cars laden with luggage and the telltale clothing rod stretching across the backseat. Cadillacs, SUVs, RVs and even a Maserati--they all had shirts swaying in those backseat closets. (Is this an unwritten rule?)

Unknown to us, we had joined the caravan of white-haired travelers heading back home to the North. Who are these peripetetic people? Much to my surprise, they are not predominantly Canadians and many aren't from the coldest states in the U.S. Curious? Here are some statistics from a survey done at the University of Florida:

Snowbird Statistics:

13.1% are New Yorkers
7.4% are Michiganders
6.7 % are from Ohio
5.8% are from Pennyslvania
5.5 % are Canadians.

Their average length of stay in Florida? 5 months.
The number of snowbirds? Approximately 920,000 in 2004.
Their average income? Over $100,000.

There you have it! Curiosity satisfied?

What's Inside Your Fridge?

Coming home after a long absence, I yank open the refrigerator and peer inside at the unfamiliar bag of grapes or leftover container of rice, wondering if indeed Goldilocks had dropped by and rearranged the contents. Unlike the editor-in-chief of Saveur Magazine who displayed the contents of his refrigerator in the January/February issue, revealing pristine rows of neatly stacked packages and containers, my fridge is chaotic. Above all else, it is a monument to condiments, a kingdom of barbecue sauce (2 bottles), soy sauce (2 bottles), teriyaki, and hoisin. Mayo and mustard (3 kinds, one with champagne) share shelf space with maple syrup (one imitation and the other genuine), capers (2 bottles), vinegar (3 kinds), and olives (Spanish with pimento and kalamata). Oh, it's a staggering collection.

Before I unpack my new groceries, I reorganize and rearrange, vowing to use up the surplus once again until I end up with a refrigerator that even Martha Stewart would be proud of. Then again, like all new year resolutions, this one will likely be just as foolish and will soon be discarded like the vow to give up chocolate. But for a moment, I'm buoyed up with a sense of righteous purpose like the leaders of an odd religious sect, determined to root out sloth and other guilty sins in the kitchen.