TEXAS AND OHIO WERE, BUT FLORIDA IS

From The Right-Side...

One January, over ten years ago, The Left-Side and I pulled out of urban life in downtown, Dallas, Texas, and pounced upon the hamlet called, Columbus, Ohio. It is sort of like Fort Worth, Texas, with more frigid temps.

Juno Beach on a random Tuesday.

For almost three years we did things like...reside in a place in downtown called Arena Crossing, purchase a historic house (built in 1905), found great food and drink and attempted to acclimate to the weather. We traveled, A LOT, in and out of the country.

The move was job related for TLS. It was an adventure.

Having left my job in Corporate America for the move, I found (made) new adventures...my art gallery for one.

We found (made) new adventures together.

Ohio, (and those adventures) is not what I want to harp on today.

We are fast approaching our 8th anniversary as residents of Florida. First, Tampa on the Gulf side, but mostly on the Atlantic side of South Florida. Again, career stuff for TLS.

Yes, it can be insane. Is insane.

People wonder if we miss Texas (they never ask that about Ohio), where we spent most of our lives.

Of course, we miss people. Very much.

The state?

No even one tiny bit. With every article I read, every politician I hear, I have no longing for the Lone Star State.

People have stopped asking about us moving back.

Each and every day I ignore the crazy that is Florida (traffic, tourists, seasonal types, politicians and zealots) and focus on the gift of the beauty surrounding us.

The flora is exquisite, and it stays that way 12-months of the year.

The setting sun is a glorious burst of gold, over palm trees.

The Atlantic of South Florida brings a serenity to the soul, and with each beach visit I whisper a wish into a shell I lift from the sand, and toss it as far as I can into the azure waves.

We are teaching Cate to do this, as she is a Florida born beach-baby-girl.

The fierce or serene waves swirling on the sand brings a calming to the soul.

So, cheers to So-Flo, we join in the crazy with relish!

Gotta dash...

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KIMPTON VERO BEACH KEEPS IT FRIENDLY

From The Right-Side...

Even pets need a get-away, am I right?

Who cares if the pets people need a change of scene, it gets old hanging around the same old digs, day after day, snacking on the same boring treats. Lounging around on the furniture, zipping (dragging) out for a pp on the same old grassy knoll, chasing a random bird, barking at animals on the television screen can only entertain a pup to a point.

Occasionally, a dog must have time to strut their stuff, and inhale the good sniffs in strange lands.

Now, strange lands don't have to be thousands of miles away. Nope, some times an hour away from the dog house will do it.

For us, that was Vero Beach last weekend.  An hour away in time, but MILES away in spirit.

Now, as any pet owner realizes, the problem with pet travels..pet -friendly hotels are NOT that easy to stumble upon. They are not even that easy to find with extensive internet searches.

The Left Side leads the way while our Cavi struts her stuff at Kimpton.

When you do find one, they are...how do I say this...sometimes not so, um, people-friendly. I think you know what I mean.

Enter the fabulous world of the dog-friendly Kimpton Hotels.

With 65 boutique hotels scattered around 30 cities in the U.S., they know how to treat pets and people, royally.

Cocktails done right by Vero Beach Hotel.

Not only can you take your dog along (they even provide pet bags for curbing) for a little R&R, but Kimpton, Vero Beach has a beautiful location, lovely rooms, top-notch staffing, food and drink.

It's all good!

Mostly, I am showing you in these photos, but TLS, our Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and I frolicked (no dogs on the beach, but that is okay with us) with abandon in the beauty and attention to detail at the Kimpton ,Vero Beach Hotel and Spa,

Oh, they also have an awards program...my favorite thing. One of them.

Woof!

Pet-Friendly Kimpton is simply GRAND!

Gotta dash...

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TOTAL WINE NEEDS TRAINING CAMP, DSW IS CHAMP

From The Right-Side...

Every hole-in-the-wall joint is now asking for your email address. Like an idiot, I usually spill it. I mean, as I am reciting one of my many email addresses (I use them for different things), my brain is giddy with the possibility of getting bonus points and discounts.

Email marketing by Total Wine is not working.

Honestly, I do not mind giving out ALL my personal information in anticipation of free stuff, at every lame retail establishment in South Florida.

Okay, I draw the line at giving my preference for Yahoo or Gmail, but other than that, I spill it.

We all know, they want to hit us with marketing emails, special offers and generally tracking our purchasing habits. Yes, I buy way too many York patties, okay?

The best alcohol distributor in town, Total Wine, tries to market their wares via email, but they need major marketing lessons from that little old shoe seller among us.

Beyond question, DSW is the all-time master in tracking our purchases (I prefer not to call it what TLS does, addiction). BUT, to their credit, as they spy on us with abandon, the shoe people reward us with excellent monetary certificates.

I can not (will not) even begin to tell you how many times (because TLS reads this) I have pranced (you do that when you get free stuff) out of those stores with BONUS feet attire.

You can't kid a kidder (you can, but not about this). I fully realize that I pay for all that  'free' faux-leather by purchasing WAY too many shoes. Plus, it's like a drug...or the Mob. You try to get away, but they keep pulling you back in with the intoxicating allure of  monetary certificates, and those sales racks.

DSW knows my brands and has had me in their clutches for YEARS. There is no escape, as they even have shoes-via-mail.

Total Wine, listen up.

Your tracking tactics are sorely lacking. The marketing emails I receive from your marketing/advertising types are quite perplexing, and meaningless.

We purchase certain brands, consistently, yet the coupons NEVER reflect anything remotely related to our taste.

The emails hit the inbox and I hit delete. Waste of their time and mine. Ramp it up!

But, the biggest waste of marketing tactics is done by Tuesday Morning. They get your information, you get their little customer card. That's it. It means nothing, not even discount coupons. Well, you do get email messages promoting their sales. We already know they have sales. Even their sales staff can not defend the utter lack of meaning.

I will continue to give my email address, I will continue to seek good deals. It's the least I can do for TLS.

Gotta dash...

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From the Left-Side:

YOU GO, GIRL!

 

TYRA BANKS BARES HER FACE, I COVER MINE WITH EVERY PRODUCT I OWN

From The Right-Side...

So Tyra Banks (and every other STAR) posted a frank and honest, make-up free photo.

SANS FARDS FOREVER! Whatever.

Not very original as everyone is posting their pure souls for the world to enjoy.

For the love of Max Factor, we are nothing if not a bunch of sheep.

Wear make-up.

I am fickle when it comes to my cosmetics!

Don't wear make-up.

Big deal.

I wear make-up and I don't care what anyone thinks (except TLS because he has to stare back at me with regularity). He approves of make-up, let me tell you. He sees me plenty with a 'pure' face. Uh-huh!

Once upon a time, I was told (gossip around the Evian water cooler) one of my colleagues complained about me because I came to work everyday 'all dolled up' with make-up and professional attire. Apparently, it was quite annoying.

I was flattered that she did not have more important things to complain about...such as...the lack of two-ply toilet tissue in the LADIES.

Looking in my make-up drawer/s this morning, I realized that not only do I enjoy my make-up wearing ways, I am a fickle make-up wearer.

Yeah, I have every brand of mascara, eye shadow, foundation, powder, blush...well, you get the idea. I have zero loyalty, except to the idea that make-up is my friend.

To those who shun make-up...I say, knock yourself out. It really is not that important in the scope of the universe.

But I also say, here's to Sephora, Neiman Marcus and all the fabulous products out there

Oh, let's lift a mascara brush to the fabulous Max Factor, who sort of started it all.


Gotta dash...

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WHY I SHUN CAMPING

Left-Side here. I am a little late to the party but I had to give my two cents on the Right-Side's camping post. Why do I shun camping? Two words: Jason Voohrees. You do remember Crystal Lake, right?

FRAGRANCE FREE WORLD, IS NOT FOR ME

From The Right-Side...

Ugh, I spy another trend.

A FRAGRANCE free world is trying to happen.

Fragrance is everywhere.

Many are wildly applauding as signs are being posted in a slew (interpret that as you will) of establishments proclaiming an "FF" Zone.

Okay.

How, exactly, does this work?

Oh, I understand the premise...people are nasally offended, allergic or just busy deeply inhaling their surroundings. So, those who have no odors on their bodies want the world to tone down the lotions, perfumes, colognes and after-shaves. Understood. Less is more.

The perplexing thing is how do controlling people control the scents of others, and where does it end?

Who, exactly, gets to define fragrance?

I mean the world is filled with odors. Step outside, inhale.

Yeah, fragrances of all sorts, and many are a great deal more offensive than the sort sprayed from a designer bottle, or scrunched into our hair.

Say someone walks several blocks to a Fragrance-Free lunch spot. It is 90 degrees, with 80 percent humidity. Think they are fragrance free when they step through the door? Are they welcome to have a seat and a bite of lunch?

Ever been in a confined space with those who shun potions (scented or non-scented) such as deodorant? Makes me want to assault them with a large bottle of Febreeze.

Personally, my nose hurts, and my eyes water when I walk through a heavy veil of cigarette smoke as people gather on a sidewalk, just outside the door of Smoke-Free haunts. I hold my breath and keep walking. I don't approve, but I can not control their actions.

Fragrance is perpetual. Cars emit fumes, trees, onions and garlic simmering in a favorite restaurant, flowers, the ocean, the air...are all about scent. People emit scents, with or without the aid of anything artificial.

Sorry, I don't think it is possible to have a fragrance-free zone. Smells evoke powerful memories and emotions in the heart and mind. How sad if we could not experience those feelings.

The world smells.

Deal with it, but go ahead and keep trying to control every damned thing. The thought of dwelling in a world devoid of  a variety of smells makes me laugh a little. How very boring.

Gotta dash...

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CHIC CAMPING IN THE SOLSTICE

From The Right-Side...

Leave it to a snazzy magazine to try and make something mundane seem super snazzy.

Food and Wine just posted bullet-points of information about Summer Solstice lurking, and it is time to pack up your troubles and potted meat (I added that) and go...camping.

Camping.

Yes, I have been camping. Please note the usage of PAST tense.

If swatting random bugs and sleeping in fabric among nature is your thing, I am giving you a slow clap. Enjoy.

Wining, dining and returning to a lovely room where 24-Hour Room Service is at my fingertips is my definition of camping. I mean eating a limp cheese pizza at two o'clock in the morning IS roughing it!

Being the curious type, I gave a quick glance to camping suggestions Food and Wine coughed up, and they were not earth shattering. Mostly tips on making it easier to lug alcohol on the trail. Not one word about the holy-grail of camping. You know what I'm talking about.

Sorry, but making beer from concentrate (see Pat's Backcountry Beverages for details on this sort of mess), is not my idea of making camping more enticing.

Yes, the hip magazine failed us. There was not ONE word about making S'mores more elegant by using colored marshmallows and imported chocolate.

Beer without S'mores?

Camping is sill OUT for me!

Gotta dash...

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MASHER AND GRATER HEADS ARE EPIC FAILS

From The Right-Side...

Shenanigans in our kitchen can be more fun than watching The Food Network (MUCH more fun).

Picture this...two people sipping wine while boiling tofu.

Super exciting.

Tofu?

Yes, while some gourmet types boil meat (they never do), I opt for more exotic things, and just saying the word-Tofu-makes me HUNGRY!

Plus I shun red meat, pretty much.

I prefer headless gadgets. I

Here's the real deal though...I have an addiction (one of many-said TLS) to kitchen Doo-Dads (I like to keep it technical).

 I have been known to lug home all sorts of unnecessary (agreed-said TLS) gadgets. They do serve a purpose, of course. Yep, taking up cabinet, counter and space in the trash.

A recent stroll through the housewares at Tuesday Morning (they seriously need a new Assistant Manager) found me gaping at a potato masher and cheese grater...with heads! Tacky heads, no less.

Right then and there it had finally happened. Kitchen gadgets that were so absurd, even I had to cast a side-eye, keep walking and asking myself questions.

Why do this to an innocent cheese grater?

What did lovely potatoes ever do to the world to have some idiot create such a masher?

It's cooking, not creating a stylish Mr. Potato Head, for the love of tater-tots!

Utensils do NOT need heads. Ever.

If I didn't know better, I would suspect TLS had a hand in this. A plot, to cure me of my gadget addiction.

FAIL.

I came home with a new cookie sheet! It's bronze-ish, and totally made up for the horror of the heads!

Gotta dash...

NOTE: The comments credited to TLS (The Left-Side) were totally written by TRS (me)!

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WINE AND DONUTS IN A PERFECT STORM

From The Right-Side...

So, the other day was National Donut Day, and a tiny yawn erupted from my sleep-deprived face.

I shun DAYS, and getting into long queues with random cheap people. I prefer to be cheap, solo.

But, then I hear, via Business Insider, that Dunkin' Donuts is testing home delivery of their food products. Stifling my yawn, I felt a tingle of interest.

Can home delivery donuts be far behind?

Getting their coffee home-delivered is nothing new for The Dunk (I like to pretend familiarity). Well, ;you have to add the water, but you get the picture. If you don't, I provided it for you.

But, back to donuts, right at the door. Now, that is something I can endorse.

I get that some donut-snobs (I am not judging their taste, just an observation) think the D-Donuts are not really donuts. Not me. Sugary dough, served up in a clump, washed down with coffee? Sounds about good enough.

According to the story, the testing is in the very early stages, don't expect it soon; blah, blah, blah. However, a perfect-storm-meal is already forming in my head.

Friday Night Menu-Home Delivered:

*Chinese Food (assortment of Dumplings, Sesame Chicken and Rice, etc., etc.).

*Pizza (for later, because we will get hungry again).

*Dunkin' Donuts (they better have evening delivery), one dozen (more?) assortment.

Perfection!

Wait, to complete the savory and sweet party, we need to have a conversation with Total Wine. I want to see some delivery guy, sashay up to the door with chilled (this will vary each Friday).

I mean coffee is great, but isn't always the answer.

Now, THAT is perfection.

Gotta dash...

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PCU: RAISE THE ROOF!

Left-Side here. Today is Monday and you know what that means? (With a shout-out to the original Mickey Mouse Club, which was really about Tuesday, but I stretched it a little, OK?).

It means, here's your PCU (Publix Construction Update). Check it out: The walls are finished and now it's roof-time. And that's coming along nicely as well:

At this rate, we'll be shopping in no time flat.

Oh, and about that Tuesday Mickey Mouse thing:

OPUS ONE, RED BULL AND BUCKIE TEENS

From The Right-Side...

Friday means I like to post random stuff like cocktails or photos of my dog being chill. Why not?

 Even dogs know Red Bull and wine do not a cocktail make.

Friday should mean cocktails, if you care about that sort of thing. But, random people need to know the intricate details inside the world of Cocktails. It is complex.

People need to understand the delicate differences in Cocktail glasses. It is imperative to know the difference between a Martini Coupe and a Highball Glass.

Listen up.

Cocktails conjure up images of fancy nightclubs, with stylishly dressed rich people dancing, smoking (in the '20 and '30's they didn't know any better), and making high-rolling deals in a backroom.


Let us not forget classic movies. Take a close look and you will see a Gibson, a Martini, or a Highball (Manhattan) being held by sophisticated killers and floozies, as it was meant to be.

Gibson and Martini. Do YOU know the difference between these two ligations? It is small, but important.

Cocktails should be respected, right?

Well, you can forget all that, and just toss that snazzy Martini Coupe straight into a dumpster behind Dizzy's Bar & Grill (insert the name of any dive of your choice).

British teens are ruining wine, and the reputation of  time-honored mixed drinks.

Those brats are bringing a new low to the world of alcohol (teen drinkers always ruin everything) by mixing up a quite questionable concoction called, Buckie.

According to Gawker, via The New York Times (and heaven knows who else) the wild bunch across the Pond go bonkers (Red Bull will do that, I hear) over this mess.

The recipe is simple:

Buckie

*Red Bull
*Pinot Grigio
*Wine Glass (probably a large red plastic Solo cup) filled 2/3 with wine and topped with Red Bull.

Kids will be kids, but after drinking this at a young age I would not count on them ever appreciating the swill called, Opus One. Red Bull and Opus One? Well, you never know. Wine snobs of the world, take that!

See photo above of my dog, and her fake friend casting a judgmental eye toward this nonsense. I just can not post a photo of such a ruination of wine (and I don't even like Pinot Grigio).

Cheers!

Gotta dash...

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From the Left-Side: And just in case you don't know what goes into a Gibson, here's some Bartending 101 for ya. Cheers, and salud!

COCKTAILS, DOG YOGURT AND PICKLED BRUSSEL SPROUTS

From The Right-Side...

There is nothing of interest in my newsfeeds thus far today.  I need a little pick-me-up, and it is WAY to early in the day to pop a cork of cheap champagne (I know, it's NEVER that early, but play along).

Boredom is my nemesis, so what to do to bring some zest into a random Wednesday?

Snacks and cocktails!

Shopping is always an option, so off I went this morning in search of something NOT boring.

Bypassing the usual haunts (Trader Joe's, sorry), I dropped anchor (in my mind I was on a yacht because I am in THE Palm Beaches) at Marshall's.

Grabbing a cart, I headed for the food aisle.

I mean what better way to fend off boredom than streaming a classic movie while munching some fabulous SNACKS, right (continue to play along, okay?)?

Ever the considerate dog-mom, I first grabbed yogurt treats for the mutt (USA made, or so they claim on the package).

Turning down the gourmet food aisle, I was immediately drawn to some little green balls in a jar (there's a visual for ya)!

Dog treats and cocktails?

Who knew (probably everyone) you could snack on Pickled Brussel Sprouts? Not I.

So, here I am, blogging and looking at sprouts, but not brave enough to actually taste them (Left-Side?). I don't know, I just do not know if I have the courage this early in the day to be food-adventurous.

Perhaps tonight, with cocktails I will throw caution into the Atlantic Ocean and just pop the lid and go crazy.

Vodka and pickled sprouts?

Yeah, the dog is just gonna have to share those yogurt treats!

Dog treats and a vodka cocktail?

Oh, yeah!

Gotta dash...

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From the Left-Side: Hey, I'm game to try pickled whatever. To a point. I think there is a general consensus that any food with "pickled" in front of it makes it gourmet. Like pickled pig's feet, or pickled quail eggs. (No, I haven't tried either.) If you need more proof, check this out:

Maybe with enough vodka ??.... no, don't think so.

COOL BAREFOOTIN' ON SINGER ISLAND

From The Right-Side...

It has been said that it is easy to spot a 'Local Floridian' while dropping towel onto a sandy beach.

How?

It is also said, locals (of any age) always wear trendy and stylist (I added this part) sandals/flip-flops, while tourist-types frolic in the sand with their (totally unstylish, I assume) bare feet.

True?

I have no idea.

I know The Left-Side and I slide into footwear when we do a beach pop-in. Sand is HOT, okay?

Note the feet.

But, those hot-footed visitors to the suntanned sand of So-Flo have a treat awaiting them at the Marriott on Singer Island, Florida.

Why?

Because Marriott honchos (probably, because who else could make the call?) have decided to cool a sandy patch of beach with droplets of water just to keep toes all  damp and twinkly.

Walking to a comfy beach chair has never been cooler.

What a relief.

The Left-Side and I are semi-regulars at 3800 Ocean (the inside food/bar area) at the Big M on the Big SI, so this is excellent news.

Well, not for us so much, we really don't care about soggy sand for the non-locals.

Nah, The flooring in the bar is cool enough for us, and the drinks and food are divine.

Cheers to sandals or bare feet.. Whatever works.

Gotta dash...

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PUBLIX UPDATE: THE WALLS ARE UP

This is the Left-Side, on the scene reporting somewhat live from the exciting construction site on Belvedere where the walls are just about finished for the new Publix grocery store. Stay tuned for the latest updates.

Back to you, Right-Side.