Venice, Florida – I did it. We did it!This Shabbat culminates a year’s worth of official documentation of how we Weinberger’s have stayed true the commandment “keep the Sabbath.” It actually didn’t dawn on me how much the Sabbath actually means to us as a couple until this last Shabbat of the 2017-2018 season. Thirty years ago, Rhoda Tillett, had a Shabbat dinner at Tillett’s Garden for the wedding party of her son and daughter-in-law to be. It was that Sabbath that I was introduced to the thought of Captain Steve Weinberger who was to be our boat captain the next day on the 49 foot trimaran named Coconut Cruises. Rhoda, who unbeknownst to me was Steve’s 2nd mom, was making a match or being a shadchanit, Hebrew for matchmaker. She did not steer me wrong. And if I reach back even further, I rarely missed a Shabbat growing up whether it was at my Nana and Pop’s, Aunt Anne’s, Uncle Richard and Aunt Lorraine’s, or Uncle George and Aunt Mae’s home or at a BBYO or USY event. It was genetically coded in my DNA from childhood. And while Shabbat has been a part of most of our married life, it was also snatched away due to unfortunate circumstances of domestic violence between my mom and her ex-husband. (That’s another story.)  It took our dear friends, Sam and Tali Schneider, permission from Rabbi Brenner Glickman, and some creative conversations to respark and reclaim our traditions. This blog represents that.

Shabbat #52 is due to the innovative collaboration between Steve and St. Thomas friends, Morgan and Sophie Soutter, who let us staycation in their downtown Venice apartment. Steve drove down in Freeda, our Subaru, and I rode Rusty the beach bike from Sarasota to Venice on the Legacy Trail  to meet Steve on Tampa Avenue. But I detoured at Dockside Waterfront Grill  to pick up lemonades and hors d’oeuvres for our big Shabbat adventure which began at an empty picnic table across from Venice Theater. We sang the blessings, and after, we happily commenced our stroll down Venice Avenue only to discover stores closed at 5:00 pm on Friday nights. We experienced geographic restaurant isolation, shook our heads, laughed and had to recalculate our adventures. Steve rerouted us to some eclectic retail therapy next to Detwiler’s Farmer’s Market which seemed antithetical to Shabbat, but proved to be just the right diversion. We entered Coast to Coast Furniture and Sleep Center, but the sign is quite deceptive. Your first step inside is pure eye candy.

Steve’s jublication was contagious as the store was about 15,000 square feet of chachkies (Yiddush for stuff) wall and yard art, hanging art and other general stuff. There was something for every facet of home decor.  At some point a store like this becomes sensory overload, and so we had to find the exit and recalibrate our celebration.

So we headed to an old standby, Sharky’s. We were able to hang out on the pier to catch the sunset and gaze off into the Gulf of Mexico. Above our heads, private planes buzzed by and I took the chance that it might be one of  my former students, Eli Weiss and his dad, Peter. So I texted him. It was them.  We were able to connect for dinner. None of us wanted to actually eat at Sharky’s, so we suggested our friend’s restaurant, Dockside Waterfront Grill. Eli and Steve headed in one car, and Peter and I drove in his truck. I was unfamiliar with Peter’s route. Once I understood, I explained that we needed to go a different direction. Peter backed up and unfortunately hit the car behind us with his protrusive trailer hitch. We handled it well, but damaged was done.
I let Steve know that we were delayed, and he texted “it’s packed so we went back to Sharky’s.” So after Peter and the young lady exchanged information, I shared the text with Peter. We headed back. Steve was joking though. It was just a strange night. We finally reconnected and all the props of Shabbat seemed to appear which always intrigues me. Finally, we were having an impromptu Shabbat dinner with good friends and food – clams, caesar salads, ahi tuna, and good stories. But that wasn’t it….as Shabbat is 24 hours long. We woke up the next morning to clattering and chattering. We peered out the window and the Venice Farmer’s Market was setting up. The downtown was A L I V E. More chuckling. Steve and I moseyed down the steps and were thrilled with the presence of people, good smells

and food options! We met Mike from The Fouta Spa and splurged on a unique tablecloth for our upcoming Shabbat dinners. The ends look like the edges of a talit or prayer shawl. It seemed like just the right way to physically commemorate Shabbat #52. We also came up with a foodie idea for our next fête for our St. Thomas contingent – a paella party. While I don’t each shrimp because it looks like an insect, the rice samples were delicious. After negotiating the booths, we decided to find a sit down breakfast spot at Burgundy Square. We were quite grateful to have found a restaurant that was open in downtown Venice.

But the Venice adventure didn’t end there. We detoured to Caspersen’s Beach for a long float with our 97 cents Wal-Mart blue and green noodles; found a sandbar and bobbed up and down in the waves while our curiosity heightened with overhead drones. It was a magnificent ending to a weird Numba #52!  In the meantime, our kids were whooping up their own memories – Gabe and Erin were at a friend’s wedding in N.J., Jake and Miranda were celebrating their one year of dating at Bob’s River Place up in Branford, FL, and Noah was fishing in Asheville, NC. I would say that we have spent our Shabbats well.