Where It's At

Sleuths that we are, we had to try to find the True location of Santa Rosa Beach. So we now know where the original town stood (apparently a long while ago, for there's not much there but a grove of old busted up scrub oaks) as well as where the locals actually can be found, that is, in the Emerald Coast Plaza, site of JamBone & the US Post Office. There too is our Mexican Grocery and Cantina, our Computer Guy, our Cig Store (Smoker Friendly) and the Laundromat where we wash unwieldy things like comforters. There's a Dance Studio too, but we're unlikely to set foot therein.

Our neighborhood explorations continue to take us northward toward Musset Bayou: this week we tooled up East and West Hewitt roads, both of which deadend right in the water. We want to know, whose bright idea is this? Does noone ever get a bit disoriented and drown their cars and/or themselves in the soggy boggy bottom? Sure, sure, you want to be able to launch your boat (we guess), but maybe a chain could be slung between a couple of posts? We confess that it's not just the deadends that make us squeamish; sometimes these roads are mere causeways through extremely marshy land and our guts roll as our brains fight the sensation that the ooze is reaching out to draw us in.

This has been a week of administrative details: we got Florida Drivers' Licenses to go with our FL tag. This set us up for two things: 1) voting. So today, after Tai Chi class, armed with our sample ballots and new drivers' licenses, we went to the Court House Annex (which should be located in the Emerald Coast Plaza, if you ask us), to cast our historic Early Votes for Barack Obama. Man, did that feel good! 2) homestead declaration. Again with DLs in tow, we went to another wing of the Court House Annex, the Property Assessors Office, where we filed for our homestead exemption, which will take effect in 2009. More good feelings, tho not quite as momentous. (On a side note, we notified Beach Rentals of South Walton that we are no longer on the rental program: yippeeeeee!)

After twenty years in one CSA or another in Alabama, we are now in search of decent fruits and vegetables here in Florida. Our trip today to A Girl Named Toni yielded a couple of apples, which didn't taste any better than you might buy in a grocery store, and were nowhere near as pretty as the Mcouns featured on Jess's blog. Toni also had hydroponic lettuce, from not too much more than a hundred miles away, but S hasn't quite given up her distrust of anything grown without Dirt, so we passed. For now. A recent trip to Fresh Market, where E got her BD orchid (pix when the shy thing blooms), netted a pair of artichokes from Castroville. Better than a kick in the teeth, but c'mon. We may just have to spend the winter eating a steady diet of giant butternut squash if we want to eat local produce. Stay tuned.

In God We Trust

E's birthday (and raft of presents) continued with pastrami & rye bread from Zingerman's (in Ann Arbor), a three-month subscription to artisanal bacons, and an ice-cream-making attachment for her Kitchenaid mixer. The BD elf still owes her a dolphin-watching boat ride and dinner out because Thursday was part of a 36-hour deluge that cancelled the Dolphin-Star sunset cruise. An orchid is also owed because we don't yet know where to find a nice one (perhaps an adventure for this week). Not to mention the myriad of cards and gifts and phone calls that came from afar: we kept the FedEx and UPS guys busy!





Having finally received both our voter registration cards and a form from the bank that owns our car, we were able to make one step closer to becoming true Floridians and acquired our license plate. Here is our state seal:




Note the Seminole woman strewing flowers (florida!) in front of a backdrop of streaming sunshine, navigable waterways, and a cabbage palm (one of the few palms native to a state that is chock-a-block with the things).

We are also learning how challenging it is to live in an actual neighborhood where out of the blue people knock on your door bearing gifts or tidbits of local gossip. When we lived at Lake Tuscaloosa, never did a single person drop in. The only other time we lived in a neighborhood was for a few months in the Quail Valley Apartments and the only neighbors we knew were the frat boys who occasionally stepped out on their balcony to take a piss over the railing. This new intimacy puts pressure on our domestic skills, for our kitchen is but a few steps from the front door: must we really do all the dishes every night before going to bed--or maybe even worse, the first thing in the morning? Stay tuned.

As Floridians, our bird is the Mockingbird, our mammal is the Panther, our reptile is the Alligator and our salt water mammal is the Dolphin. Our state beverage is Orange Juice (and now that we're citizens, we declare that our state Adult Beverage is the Moscow Mule). Remarkably, our State Song in its original incarnation is horrifying; we sure hope that our two votes for Obama swing Florida to the Blue:





Hmm. We wondered why McCain/Palin posters outnumber Obama/Biden posters 99 to 1. Have come to very much admire Michigan's state motto: Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice!

The Suwannee River runs from the Okeefenokee Swamp in Georgia to the Gulf of Mexico at Suwannee, Florida.


Friday brought Von and a bottle of champagne and toasts to E's 65th. And the usual 3-bad-girls shenaniganarama, including bingo, Rummy-O, eating E's homemade pistachio ice-cream, sitting on the beach (where military maneuvers seem to be afoot, with submarines or some such tooling about) and hauling home fried matter from JamBones to consume while watching Bama slaughter Tennessee!

Rummy-O & Rummy-O!

A good Monday at bingo (both of us winning twice!) was followed by a busy week of assorted small projects, one of which, the installation of the grommets in the laundry-zone curtain, was nearly thwarted for the lack of a tiny tool. You know you're living at the beach when not only is your internet connection a tad unreliable but there's not a serious fabric store within 100 miles.... We were pleased, however, that once again all tools were cleared from the living spaces before Tom and Jess arrived for the weekend.

On the eve of their visit, we went to a class on Indian Cooking at Kitchenique in Sandestin. This involved sitting around a counter on very hard and slippery stools for 2 hours while an Indian chef prepared Whole Bengali Fish (our first taste of Scamp--"the king of the groupers"), Curried Apples, Carrot Pilaf and a far-eastern version of funnel cakes. Wine was available for purchase during the show (thank goodness! sez S). After the food is cooked, each guest receives a modest portion of each item: too modest of a portion if you ask us! While this was an odd experience, we both agreed that it was something we will try again when the cuisine in question is alluring. We did learn a few things, found the store amazingly well stocked in some key areas (spices, for example--and bizzaro gadgetry, including a blue plastic bubble in which an egg can theoretically be microwaved until hardboiled), and were exposed to some new tastes (nigella seeds--yuk! says S).

Friday brought hourly email updates from Jess as she and Tom first got up, then went back to bed, then got up again and finally got Astro to the Hot Diggity Dog Camp. They arrived just in time for drinks, bearing gifts, including a set of original Pepper-stitched cocktail napkins embroidered with poker-table talk and a pink pumpkin full of treats. The candy, etc. was great and all, but the napkins are mind-blowingly beautiful.

E served snazzy Cucumber Martinis, and for dinner roasted up some shrimp. On Saturday morning, S delivered a breakfast pizza (now, no kidding, we've GOT to clean that oven). Actually, it might have been more like a brunch pizza by the time we got around to it--this weekend was laid back and then some.

In other words, if it wasn't Rummy-O, it didn't really happen (Jess's personal copy of the game has already shipped). Saturday night's cocktail was the historic Moscow Mule, a lovely breezy thing featuring ginger beer, and S slayed one of those gigantic squash for a hearty curried soup.



Sunday, more Rummy-O (and donuts!), and dinner out at Stinky's Fish Camp.

That evening's game unfolded to the tune of Tom's "Three Dog Night" Pandora radio station and we Rocked It Out. (Now of course, S is building us a radio station too.) Tom also spent the weekend practicing with his new (and Very Fancy) camera: most of the pix accompanying this week's posting were taken by him: richer, artier, cooler than S could ever muster. A super sweet visit: come back soon!

E has been receiving her Ten Days Of Elizabeth birthday presents, including a box of Harry & David Royal Riviera Pears, a pie-crust edge protector, Without Reservation (a book about Foxwoods), a tai chi ball, and several other items not yet delivered. The BIG DAY (E turns 65!) is this coming Thursday--and a special surprise outing is in the wings. Stay tuned.

The Bike, The BBQ & The Pottery

As of Friday, we have had a respite from workers: new ridge caps adorn the roof! And nobody fell off the damn thing in the meanwhile (phew). Now we've moved on to replacing the door to the third floor deck, but it will be several weeks before it arrives, so all should be quiet on the worker front for a nice long while.

Tuesday morning we were among the first in line at Publix to get our flu shots, escaping unscathed from a bumpercar fest of motorized grocery carts. Wednesday we attended Tai Chi class with Henry and Co. We continue to be intrigued by our teacher, whose phone rang several times during the hour-long session. Click to hear Henry's very telling ringtone (which cracked both S & E up after the first 5 notes):



On the way home from class we swooped into the bike rental joint, which has been having a sale on their used beach cruisers. E had promised S a beater bike as a BD pressie and the folks at the bike shop (so sweet to the old lady) made it come true. Now S practices every morning, riding around the neighborhood, trying to gain enough strength in her knees and confidence in her balance to brave the bike path.




We were supposed to attend an evening lecture sponsored by the South Walton Environmental and Low-Impact Living Association (SWELL) at the Amavida Coffee Company in Seaside, but it became clear as the afternoon wore on that neither of us cared enough to sit up in chairs with strangers, so we stayed home and watched TV! Surely one day they'll have an irresistible event? We wish them well, regardless....

Thursday morning we sat on the beach (no flies, good), did some errands, and while we were out, satisfied our curiosity about the local BBQ joint, Jambones, which cooks up organic/hormone-free/free-range pieces of meat in a lively bar-like atmosphere. It was jumping at high noon. One of our few DO AGAIN ratings was earned: our buns were toasted, the meat was fresh and juicy, sauces varied and plentiful, and the fries right up there with the best. If only the server hadn't insisted on calling each of us honey and/or dear, but perhaps we can break him of this. Or get him fired.

Our weekly excursion took us north on Don Bishop Road, which would have dumped us directly into Musset Bayou had we not obeyed the stop sign. This seems a possible fishing spot for Martin! Along the way we saw a sign for Orr Pottery, so on the way back, we followed the sandy lumpy lane to a grouping of structures in a very wet-looking woods. We stared for a while, but seeing no signs of life, decided it was too creepy and heaved away. We also passed the gates of a gated "community," that is, of PVC encasing the utilities for a some developer's "pipe" dream. You don't have to go far in Walton County to encounter other such failed/stalled ventures.




We made a number of cooking experiments this week: the breakfast pizza, blogged about last Sunday, was followed up with oven-roasted shrimp, another dish slated to be served to Tom & Jess. S wishes you could have seen E lovingly baste each and every individual shrimp with the yummy sauce. Perfection!

Saturday we decided to be good citizens and attend the annual Sunrise Beach Homeowners' Association Meeting. On the way, we swung into Redfish Village for a little art/food fair, hoping to pick up some butternut squash for the winter. Did we ever! These are the biggest b-nut squish either of us have ever laid eyes on. Wonder if they'll taste any good? Weirdly, Deb Orr was there, selling her pottery! We liked her stuff, confessed our surreptitious visit to her studio, and promised to return some time and be congenial. She told us that about 30 years ago, with the help of her machete, she had hacked her way through the underbrush for a year and a half to clear the grounds, ultimately building her house herself. The HOA meeting reminded us of hideous faculty meetings past: S kept ruing that she hadn't purchased a giant Bloody Mary at the Redfish Village fair. Our fellow homeowners threw a cocktail party at sunset on the beach, but we had had enough of the Women for McCain and Drill Offshore Now crowd by then and played two-handed Canasta at the kitchen table instead.

This morning we headed out for our weekly Sunday breakfast at the Donut Hole on the way to the grocery store, but maybe because it's a Holiday Weekend, the joint was packed, the lines too long to bear. So we tootled back toward our usual fallback, Don Pedro's, but E remembered that the new Australian Cuisine (who knew--roo?) resto, A Taste of Oz, had opened this week, and serves breakfast and lunch. Apparently, E was the only person in Walton County who remembered this, for we ate our quite tasty breakfast alone. We each had the Fried Egg Sanie (Aussie cute for Sandwich, we guess) with smoked Gouda and crispy bacon on the homemade roll, a roasted Roma tomato on the side. Good Eats and iconic Aboriginal Art all rolled up.

Fit to be Thaied

This week we had an unfortunate encounter with nature. At the beach, ready to kick it for a while to enjoy the long view, we were attacked by biting black flies. Sandy killed 25 on her legs in 5 minutes or less--but there were still 25 more! Turns out, this is a feature of life at the beach in October. Otherwise it was a calm cool gorgeous day, clear enough to see just how much sand Ike left for us.

We explored another part of our neighborhood, Musset Bayou, just up the road from Cafe Provence (where they're now serving lunch...). This bayou is a pretty large arm of the Choctawhatchee bay, and draining from it is the Hogtown Bayou we enountered on our last driving excursion. Much more developed than the zone up 393, the waterfront here sports some huge piles, replete with subtantial gates--but there are also little bungalows (maybe for the servants).

The week's eating adventure was a trip to Thai Delights "in the heart of old Destin." We ordered up our litmus tests: the chicken satay was quite delicious, but otherwise it was a don't do again. We intended to go to the Thai Elephant, but were swayed by the 5 apples a reviewer awarded Thai Delights. A reviewer on crack! S had a hard time even tasting her food bc there were a couple of mirrors bolted to the wall and both were crooked!

The more interesting adventures in eating were the ones we prepared ourselves. Elizabeth got brave and toted home 2 rock lobster tails from the fishmonger and grilled them puppies up. Lovely. And S, remembering her grandmother Huss, took it in her head to make "donuts" out of packaged refrigerator bisquits, fry them up in the electric skillet, then shake them up in a bag of cinnamon and sugar. Tasty, but not up to Donut Hole standards by a long shot. Tonight we're making a breakfast pizza as a trial run for the impending visit of T-Man & Pepper. The dough is proofing in the oven as we type.

Hey, where's MY lobster?

You betcha we watched the Palin/Biden debate and had a heckofa good time: now we're trying to be more mavericky (thank you Tina Fey) in everything we do. We're in the middle of watching Michael Moore's Slacker Uprising, a flik he cleverly gave away for free to the Tivo Nation (and which can be downloaded for free at http://www.slackeruprising.com/). Cool performaces by Steve Erle and Robert Orrall/Monkey Bowl so far.





Finally finally finally the master bathroom tiling project is DONE. Stay tuned for reports on Ronald and Leidy's adventures installing new ridge caps, starting tomorrow, can't wait.