Dazed & Confused

If it's the weekend, forget it, there's no staying home in your slippers and watching TV.  This is The Beach, and strict standards for socializing are in force!  S slept until 8:30 am this morning, to give you an idea of just how intense the whole show has become.  Neighborhood feasts start promptly at 5:30 pm with appetizers and booze, continue with meals for 10-15 people, and conclude after Cadillac and dessert anywhere between 10 and 11 pm.  (Which dessert has lately been apple-something, since you know who bought themselves a bushel.  Or is it youknowwhom?  Dee?)  The householder of the evening is generally in charge of the big protein and maybe a side dish; everything else is schlepped in by the assorted guests.  Since we last wrote, our house has twice been the scene of one of these parties, most recently for Charlie's 72nd birthday.





In the old friends are the best friends department, Beach-A-Rama has also seen action, hosting some of the weekend guests for HarOLD's 60th birthday party, and having everybody over for Football Buffet during one of the season's Crimson Tide nailbiters.



Many of the local sustainable farms had tours one Sunday near the end of October, and we drove up to Bonifay to visit Renee's farm, source of our organic eggs, chickens, and--big anticipation here--our Thanksgiving duck.  Because many farms were visited by some folks, it was necessary for guests to dip the soles of their shoes in sanitizer before crossing the threshold: E's fave sight was the disinfection of a wagon in which a toddler was being pulled.

In addition to a number of repeat restaurant experiences (Smiling Fish, Harbor Docs, Pig Alley, Thai Elephant), we tried some new places: La Cocina in Rosemary Beach with a bunch of they neighbs (not a do-again, alas, tho it's very pretty in a how-can-we-make-something-new-that's-been-manufactured-in-North Carolina-look-like-a-Mexican-antique-sort-of-way) and the carry-out/deli-style Destin Ice, which was Just Fine.  Handy enough that it's likely we'll go back.

With the return of our neighbors, Squeaky's surrogate caretakers, we were able to leave home for the first time since April: Biloxi here we come!  While we didn't have any spectacular luck at the casino, we didn't lose ALL of our money, and S had what she proclaimed was one of the culinary events of her lifetime--and at the Imperial Palace buffet, to boot!  Best Pho broth imaginable!

Hoping not to go so long next summer without leaving town, we looked after Billye's FOUR cats for a week, visiting every afternoon with a thermos of coffee and our Skip-Bo cards, hanging out with Jake, Josh, Cydney and the ineffable Toby, aka Mr. Debonair.  Four plates of catfood will really perfume the air--that's all we're saying....

For our second tropical storm, Ida, we had the presence of mind to take down the bells on our porch, so weren't awake ALL night.  The storm's landfall was more than a hundred miles away, so relative to Claudette, things were calmer here.  But STILL the wind found the one place in the roof or a soffit that is not perfectly secured, so there was a tiny dripping for several hours right next to poor E's head...



We hosted Bunco for twelve people: having procured a punch bowl at the Indoo(r) Flea Market for this express purpose, we concocted a tasty cranberry punch (next to which we posted a gigantic bottle of vodka), made myriad tasty snacks, and had a hilarious party, successful in more than one respect, because E won the Most Bunco prize of $25.  Oddly enough, the biggest hit of the night might have been the Publix gumdrops.

Things on their way out:

Things on their way in:

And a fond memory: