Tuesday, October 7, 2014

UMBRELLA'S HAVE NO OWNERS

That's right.  Umbrella's have no owners. A topic of discussion this morning en route from the train station to the studio.  Without listening to the weather report for the day I grabbed my umbrella from it's safe haven corner behind the door on my way out to start my journey to work.  A brief thought of the downpour I heard at 5-ish a.m. initiated the last minute thought. At that point, it didn't occur to me that it would be the last time it would be attainable.  

Thousands of umbrellas are bought daily. Thousands are lost or left behind daily. The travels of an umbrella can be exciting [figuratively speaking, of course].  They are left in taxi's, restaurants, trains, schools, offices, etc. One leaves the umbrella behind and someone else can pick it up.  Imagine, if you would... A woman grabs her umbrella and runs into the coffee shop to order a coffee in the morning.  


China's Umbrella's - flickrhivemind.net

Putting the umbrella down for a mere second is the initial mistake.  Sprinkling cinnamon on the specialty coffee and running out the door while leaving the umbrella at the condiment station is a 'gift' for the next umbrella guest. SCORE!  The next person sees the forgotten umbrella, looks around the coffee shop for the rightful 'owner,' then takes the opportunity and picks it up for it's next venture of the day.  Onward to the subway station.  And so on, and so on and so on...  

It could lead to a love story for Hallmark!  The woman who left the umbrella at the coffee shop is pursued by the man who finds in next in hopes of returning it to the rightful owner out of the kindness of his heart.  Low and behold.. the 'meet cute.'  Of course, there is the happy ending.  

Following this conversation, I've decided I never need to buy another umbrella. If I am without one day during a downpour I can simply run into a coffee shop and... 'pick one up.'




Tuesday, August 12, 2014

GIRL CODE: A SISTERHOOD NOT TO BE BROKEN

 I'm not quite sure that writing about GIRL CODE is not breaking GIRL CODE, but here we go. 

GIRL CODE [referred to as GC from now on]:  Plain and simple is the sisterhood that women share that shall not be broken.  Or, not? What prompted me in writing about this sacred topic is that recently I experienced the loose lips of a 'girl' friend who sorely broke our confidence.  She betrayed my trust after my flatly saying to her that I was about to tell her a story requiring GC.  Yes, I actually used the phrase, 'Girl Code' as if I needed to firmly ask for the utmost silence [as if I were still in high school] which should simply be a 'given' with a friend.  24-hours later I received a text from a 4th party indicative of the fact the trust had been broken.  She had immediately, and without hesitation, from my understanding, hung up the phone with me and went on the phone with the next releasing the confidential story from my lips to hers to the next and so on and so on. [Oh, for clarity, the story I divulged involved me. I was not gossiping about someone else.] Immediately following the circle back to me I immediately confronted her and confirmed, in fact, it was her lips that spewed the betrayal.  I won't divulge the future existence [or none] of our friendship, but sadly, it's definitely broken. 

With all of that said, I went to a beach fest the following day inclusive of 9 women with a 20 year [or so] age span.  I brought my notebook to take notes.  With all the women in attendance and situated in their beach chairs I posed two questions.  1. What does GC mean to you?  2. What would you do if GC is broken?

Well! I cannot tell you what can of worms these two questions opened.  It was a full day of discussion.  Periodically, I left the 'circle' to jump into the ocean, fetch more Sangria [ :) ], or eat.  Upon returning I found the women still discussing the issues of the code.  We discussed others who had been affected by 'broken' trust; whether being the actual cause or the victim.  Apparently, GC is strong on all levels. It extends beyond the simplicity of confidence.  Not that confidence is by any means, simple.  

Don't be fooled by age.  GC affects girls and women of all ages; from youth to the old and wise.  I'm not sure when it actually begins and/or ends [if ever].  I do know that my daughters, when they were teenagers, experienced wrath and drama, the good and the bad, of GC.  Furthermore, my mother and her friends have their drama, as well.  There is no escaping GC.  It surrounds all women whether invited or not. The bottom line is that it's a part of our makeup.  Men; beware.  You all are just bystanders.  [Stand by.  There maybe an addendum to this topic.]

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

FOR THE LOVE OF G-D WHERE ARE YOU RITA!

Let's just clarify that I was raised a nice Jewish girl.  However, nowadays, if I even glance at a synagogue as I drive, walk, or run past, it's a miracle.  Without getting too detailed of my faith, beliefs or convictions, I haven't yet figured out what I believe; but, it's not aliens, Jesus as someone to pray to for guidance [although, I do believe he was a real person], the catholic church, at all with the exception of a few good stories just like the old Jewish Testament-fables or feeding Buddha after noon [?].

With that said, I am missing my St. Rita's medal. Yes, this nice Jewish girl wears, holds or carries a St. Rita's medal; if I can find it. She is the finder of lost souls [that's my interpretation and it works for me].  Currently, she is lost. I can't find her and it's driving me insane. Good thing I am back to purging my house. Perhaps, as I toss and rummage through drawers and boxes she will appear offering me instant gratification.

During two years of a painful period in my life I couldn't seem to get out of a psychological 'funk.' I tried everything to make me feel better.  Therapy.  Disaster.  The therapist ended up crying; hence, the end of the therapy.  Exercise. Too thin I was told by my family, but I felt fit.  Running, pilates followed by bike riding. Perfect.  If I could only do that now. Gave it up and gained weight from eating too many Mrs. Fields chocolate chip oatmeal cookies that nowadays I bake and ship to everyone else. Baking and cooking are definite forms of calming therapy for me. 

Finally, I called my Irish Catholic sister-in-law and asked her where to get a St. Rita's medal.  Following her laughing fit, she picked me and took me to a Catholic trinket shop.  Wall to wall religious paraphernalia.  Literally.  I walked to a case on the counter and saw my options.  I bought the least expensive silver medal.  What a beauty.  Believe it or not, wearing this medal around my neck instantly made me feel at ease.  I need her now, but can't find her.  She probably rests with other Jewelry I have hidden for safe keeping and now can't find those pieces, as well.  Dilemma.  

What do I do.  I know!!!  I pray to St. Anthony!  Another G-dsend.  Trust me.  He works.  My friend, E, introduced me to St. Anthony several years ago.  St. Anthony finds lost things.  E swears by the mystery of St. Anthony.  She told me several stories of miracles for her own needs.  Lost diamonds in the snow [2x], keys and other items.  Of course, I have used St. Anthony in the past.  However, I have not been able to get him to help me find St. Rita.  Perhaps, the two saints clash and are unable to work together.  Perhaps, I have to step higher to find a Saint. Who knows, but, I need her now.  Please send her back!

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

HAPPY B'DAY TO ONE OF MY FAVs

Happy Birthday, George!  Happy 73!  Thank you, for rockin' my world for my decades of musical pleasure! Parliament is one of my favs and will continue until I surpass your 73 years of artistry.  


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuyS9M8T03A


In honor of your special day I already played 'Atomic Dog' at high decibels from my office.  One of my youthful assistants asked me WHO I was playing that was vibrating my walls.  Guess what homework assignment has been handed to him.  Quiz tomorrow. 


bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay

Monday, July 21, 2014

I AM A MEAT-A-HOLIC

Hi.  My name is Robin. I have a problem. I have a big problem; a TEXAS sized problem. I am a Meat-A-Holic. 

Texas beef - absolutely mouth watering.  The savory flavor, tenderness, essence as it passes through my taste buds just makes me quiver from head to toe with each bite. 
 
Clever

Since May I have indulged, rather over indulged, in beef inhaling as if it were a sport. It has become a drug for me. I want to eat it everyday. I just can't seem to get enough. Even when I am full I need to take that last bite to the point of engorgement and distress. Ordering an 8oz, 12oz, or 14oz specials [the latter few being breakfast and dinner for the next few breakfasts/dinners] is part of my current 'norm' and doesn't prevent me from masticating the final scrap.

Nothing tastier than grilled steak
I know this is crass [before reading the next part of the sentence take heed especially to a vegan] but I think the beef is so fresh it's as if Chef brings the cow in from behind the restaurant 20 minutes prior to freshly appearing on the plate set in front of me at the table. There is Wagyu, Texas Akaushi [from Yoakum, TX] and Tomahawk Ribeye steaks to name a few.  The latter, of course, is listed on the menu without a price.  Similar to lobster on the east coast, the Tomahawk is listed simply as - market price.  Truly a delicacy.

To think I was instructed by my doctor, following kidney stone surgery in March, not to eat more than 4oz of meat per day and no salt. I am all but inhaling it intravenously. And, by meat I mean, fish, chicken and/or beef.  Beef, of course, being the worst offender.  With that said, this past weekend, and guilt semi settling in, I have begun a minimal detox program.  Let's see how long that lasts!  Everyone who knows me can confirm that I have no willpower with respect to giving up something I enjoy!  G-d help me if I ever have to give up chocolate.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

ARTWORK ROCKS AUSTIN'S WALLS

Throughout the city limits of Austin lines artwork of all colors, sizes and shapes on buildings, stone walls, drainage pipes and more.  The artwork is constantly changing and being updated.  This morning, I saw an 8-year old with his own can of orange spray paint at Graffiti City expressing himself amongst the great artists of the city.  Age does not dictate art.

GRAFFITI CITY - behind the Goodwill on Lamar

Don't forget to tag your work!



It's not all about the art of graffiti.  My favorite is a mural painted on the side of a building just on the West Side off 11th Street at a cafe called, The Victory Grill.  According to Cliff, the manager, two artists from NYC came to town and spent two days, rather nights, painting.  What began as a day project turned immediately to evening work It was was one those 100+ degrees of heat, so they came back at night, set up lighting and started painting. Two nights and then done.  Gone. Bye bye. Images are just below, but excuse the boxes, chairs and other objects in the way, as it is a place of business and I was doing an impromptu drive by.
 
Little plug for the artists.






   

These works are located at the 
Dr. Charles E. Urdy Plaza on 11th Street. 







More random brush strokes...



I have more. It's everywhere.  I just can't help myself from taking pictures.  Enjoy.

Monday, June 30, 2014

CATHEDRAL OF JUNK-LET IT REIGN

Welcome to the 

CATHEDRAL OF JUNK

 











Vince-Artistic Creator/Designer
Timeline


Doug peering through the looking glass.


Rear View

No explanation required
Mayan Temple
Find Tallyn


No explanation required

Bye Bye Barbies

Remember Gumby!





 
Tires UPstairs
Tires and Tiles...


4422 Lareina Dr, Austin, TX (512) 299-7413

Minimum $10 donation required

Friday, June 27, 2014

KEEPING IT WEIRD IN AUSTIN

"Keeping It Weird In Austin" is a local motto in Austin, Texas.  As a matter of fact, it's on a banner hanging over the street advertising a 5k scheduled this weekend. I am actually considering running.  Mind you, considering is one thing, participating is a completely different agenda.  Truthfully, I've been running 3-4 times per week in hopes of obtaining/retaining my girlish figure.  However, being surrounded by the amazing food trucks and restaurants, I am finding it quite difficult to show restraint in not indulging.

Last night I even enjoyed a bit of home. 1908.1 miles from RI to Austin I slurped delicious Oysters from RI at trendy little place called, Clarks Oyster Bar, located at 1200 W 6th.  The menu indicated they were shipped in from East Beaches, RI. I'm guessing from Mattunuck.  Not sure, but; perhaps, I should be thanking P for the local flavor. Quite delicious!!!!  I'm tempted to call and find out how they are shipped to insure freshness. They tasted so good as if I farmed them myself.

Sunday last, we ventured to one of the three famous ice cream parlors.  This one; in particular, LICK, is known for it's crazy, offbeat, flavor combinations.  There motto is: Live, Laugh, Lick. Yummy.  After studying the index cards [menu] of each flavor that change almost daily that are tacked to the wall and after tasting four kinds, I chose two scoops; one blackberry, basil and rose with lime and the second was dark chocolate, olive oil and sea salt. Believe it or not, but they were the best flavors I've ever tasted [from the mouth of a choc-o-holic]. I consider myself an ice cream aficionado.  I thought they would be good, but they were better than great.  Each scoop were a perfect golf ball.  Just enough to devour yet not enough to make me have a stomach ache. 
 
As a few more days are passing and filling my stomach with more food, Austin is beginning to slowly grow on me.  If you are into fantastic food flavors and constant partying then this is the place for you.  There never seems to be a lull in the venues around town 24/7.  There are lines for food every night of the week - Sunday-Saturday.  I don't have the stamina, but it's definitely a foodie haven.  [Building a photo essay of food trucks to post soon.]

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

LANDLOCKED IN AUSTIN OR UNLOCKED

Today I decided that I needed to find a beach with actual surf.  Landlocked in Austin for 4 weeks is already killing me in that it's detrimental to my mental health. Just after 2 days I needed Valium [just kidding] to keep me 'steady.' Knowing the beach/summer season has begun at home [RI] is making me nauseous as I strive to find a watering hole each passing weekend in Austin. 

Low and behold, the 2nd weekend I made it to the 'fabulous' Guadalupe River in Gruene Hall.  I tossed my tube into the river and floated 3 hours to the other end. Although it appears to be quite trashy, we, surprisingly, had a great time. We even passed over the little bit of 'rapids' making for some excitement. The 12 pack of Lima-rita's [plug] also helped quite a bit.  
 
Taken from the bridge overlooking the end of the 'ride.'



To back track - We arrived at the place to rent the tubes with no expectations, whatsoever.  As a matter of fact, we had absolutely no idea what to expect. Less than zero. [We are ocean people. In fact, we could be mermaids in a previous life.] Upon entering the shop to rent the tubes, we were greeted by the parking attendant who directed us where to park. Upon his sensing that we were first timers he told us not to take any valuables with us.  "Leave your rings, watches, wallets, locked in your car;" and, proceeded with, 'then, leave your keys with the girls inside the shop, for safe keeping. They will number your keys and hang them on the wall with the others.'  Safe keeping?  How is that safe???  I don't know you!!  In any event, we followed orders, paid our fare and boarded the 1960's school bus with the guide who dropped us at the river bank. 

It was still quiet as we approached the rivers edge. I dipped my toe testing the temp. The water is 50 degrees.  And, will according to the locals, stay that way since it is river water.  50 degrees is freezing!!!!  I don't go into the Atlantic until it 65 degrees!!  

The biggest surprise for me was, once safely positioned in my tube to not flip over into the freezing water, was seeing the 100s and 100s of people floating down the river along with us.  It was a sea of people in the river having one giant party.  I forgot to mention back at the shop we were given string ties to tie your tubes together as well as to tie a mesh trash bag to the tubes. The sea of people and their respective parties were all tied together as well as their coolers.  One group, who we stayed close to nearly the entire way, was the entertainment of the river.  There were 25 tubes/people, if not more, tied together.  A 2-1/2'x4' stereo system was balanced on its own tube blaring arrays of music from hip hop, rock, and, of course, country [a given].

It took three hours to float to the end.  The picture above depicts the edge of the river ending our plight where we had to get out and carry our tubes to the shop.  Next time we will bring food. The liquid lunch didn't help us much in the sun.

With all of that said, last Sunday I found another river; rather, a creek.  It was a mini escape, for a few hours, in my head only, out of desperation.  I was lucky enough to find clear water as I heard it was occasionally, murky.  Just on the outskirts of downtown Austin is the Barton Creek Greenbelt. I parked in a dirt lot neighboring an office park. It was nearing 2p.m. in the afternoon [at the end of prime tanning], so I had to hop out and begin my trek [yes] through the woods to find the creek.  

I found a path that lead directly to a small pool only to find other people.  I felt like an intruder.  Non drama-like I quickly turned down another path following along the creek. About 1/2 mile into the woods I found a very pretty area not too congested with other bodies.  Mind you, I was hiking through these woods and small cliffs wearing flaps [flip flops] and a tank dress over my bath suit. Very unprepared.  Thankfully, I ran into a nice man and his hunting dog who offered me an iced bottle of water. Thank you, very much! 



waded through the water towards the rock situated right by the mini waterfall.  I spent the next two blissful hours alternating tanning on the rock and sitting in the water with my feet in the mini falls.  


With all of that said, I am still not satisfied. Yesterday was a very trying day at work and was feeling a bit homesick. When I am home I take morning walks on the beach for therapy.  What I do here is run along the river that flows through the city.  Very nice, but not the same thing.  And, I definitely didn't feel like running [couch to 5k] yesterday or even today for that matter.  I need ocean water.  It's 3 hours 6 minutes without traffic to Corpus Christi and 3 hours 34 minutes with traffic - or, so it indicates on mapquest.  We shall see.  I am planning this excursion this upcoming weekend.  YAY! 




Saturday, June 7, 2014

CONFERATE SOUTH VS FRONTIER SOUTH?

Confederate Flag Raised South Of Richmond Along I-95By definition, confederate south was a government set up in 1861 by seven slave states of the lower south that had declared their secession from the U.S following the election of President Lincoln; thus, creating the 'confederacy.'  Although the intent was to become a separate county, it was never recognized as a separate country by our beloved nation. Several other states later declared their secession joining the confederacy making 11 total.  [Thank you, Wikipedia.]

The foundation behind the 'confederacy' is simply that many southern whites [ :( ] considered themselves more Southern than American and would fight for their state and region independently of their larger nation!  The cause behind the foundation is based on slavery, politics and economics. [WTH]

Frontier is basically the political and geographical areas beyond a boundary [also, from Wikipedia].  It's a transitional zone where explorers, pioneers and settlers moved to where an unlimited amount of land was available.  Basically, called the 'Great Frontier.'  [For this purpose I am writing about the Frontier South-which if you continue to read was a figment of our imagination.]

With all of that said, and being from the Northeast, who had lived in the south for 16 years, in my opinion, there are still fervent attitudes of people still living in the civil war era.  That's another blog another day and probably a more interesting/heated topic for discussion and get me into more trouble than it's worth while being here in a former confederate state. Surprise.

 This confederate south vs frontier south came up, how else, but over wine.  All of us, obviously stupid, because we did not include Texas as a confederate state because we are too busy thinking about cowboys and the vast openness of the land areas riding horseback across nothingness as done in the movies with John Wayne or "City Slickers" vs a scene from the movie, "Deliverance," the latter being the epitome of the south in our northeast heads still giving us nightmares.  Low and behold, after researching/confirmation this morning, I realized Texas was #7 on the secession list of the 11. BTW, there are actually #12 and #13, but they did not 'officially' join - LA and MS.  [Again, thank you, Wikipedia for the morning lesson and BASIC history lesson.]

The 'southern' hospitality clause that we were comparing against the other last night is a moot argument.  Wasted alcoholic energy. Good old southern hospitality vs frontier hospitality from our point of view is apparently stemming from the same beliefs [since, again, Texas was confederate state, by history] does not exist.  By comparison, there is none. Tossing on a cowboy hat and boots and the charm is an extended psychological plus. What a great debate we had.  

For all intents and purposes, we can change the discussion to not include Texas.  The next 'discussion' will be boots and bucket hats and/or big hair [oooo-Texas hair vs Cranston or Johnston hair-explanation later] vs mac and cheese ---  Ughh....Can't debate that either as that's on every menu here [Texas], too!  To more appropriately and accurately discuss the difference of the 'southern' experience the true Frontier [not south] of the US...I will need to venture just so slightly north on the map. YI-HA!

Friday, June 6, 2014

IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS!

Early a few Sunday's ago I hopped in the car and headed to the Newport [shocking, right-NOT].  With my stomach vehemently growling we made a pit stop in Portsmouth at a local eatery.  
 
With the summer season vastly approaching I think it should be known to local RI's that all should experience the food at Cindy's.  It is absolutely delicious.  If not the best breakfast you have ever had, it's definitely close. 

I devoured a simple spinach, egg, tomato, cheese, broccoli omelet, while my friend inhaled the Portugeuse Benedict with chourico, peppers and onions on grilled sweetbread.  Of course, both dishes came with a side of hash browns.  YUMMY!

The little neighborhood diner has been open for 11 years.  They are open Monday - Saturday 6:30-2p.m. serving lunch from 11-2p.m.  It is now open for dinner Wednesday-Saturday 5-9p.m., BYOB.  I took a peak at the dinner menu.  Rest assured, I will be stopping in with my bottle in tow.  Pull up the menu on cindyscountrycafe.com.

The address is: 1324 W. Main Road, Portsmouth, RI  (SR 114)

Tina [our server left] Cindy, Mercedes

Once you are finished and are so full that you can't move except to squeeze back into your car simply head directly to one of many beautiful beaches along the RI coast and slide into your beach chair for the day until you are digested enough to start again with dinner!

Bon appetite!

Monday, April 28, 2014

IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD THEN DON'T SLEEP THROUGH IT!

I am convinced that we all have it in us to change the world; albeit, in a very small way, but definitely the capability of making a difference.  Without even a thought there are those of us who make strides in world peace, reducing our carbon footprint, paying it forward, donating, feeding the hungry, to name a few.

Although people are tremendously consumed with the daily tasks and rituals of their daily lives I believe they have the potential, if not, in fact, the desire to help others.  Of course, while I am driving on the highways of Massachusetts I am thinking otherwise because no one in Massachusetts is thoughtful on the highway, let alone, polite and giving NOR forgiving!  

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

AN EVENING WITH FRANK SINATRA AND DEAN MARTIN

Last week my daughter and I went to dine at my favorite Boston restaurant, Euno's Ristorante, in the North End. Aside from the food being superb, the entire team of people working at this ristorante make the experience 1000% more enjoyable. They all go beyond the call of duty to make your dining experience - perfect.

The atmosphere is elegant rustic Italian.  Upon entering and passing through the heavy cranberry colored velvet drapery are; perhaps, ten tables on this floor.  My favorite is a table in the front window. I enjoy looking into the vast openness of the restaurant with the view of the kitchen in the rear.  The brick walls are an added touch typical in the North End area.  Downstairs is just as quaint and cozy as the first floor.  Its brick walls are adorned with racks full of wines, scotches and other assortments of 'tastes' satisfying the variety of clientele.

Lobster Ravioli and Josef

Since my first visit I have become friendly with the Manager of the restaurant, Josef.  We share a common interest. He is Moroccan and I love Morocco.  We speak in depth of politics, life, family and the difference with the cultures; including food.  I even made them cornes des gazelles, a Moroccan cookie.  Quite impressive I might add.  

Last Wednesday's dinner was beyond enjoyable.  Upon arriving to the restaurant, our 'window' table was prepared with a choice bottle of wine sitting on the table top. Couldn't have been more ideal after a long day.  Or, could it!  My assistant arrived shortly thereafter to join my daughter and I for dinner.  Shortly after, Josef, took the 4th seat at the table for drinks and conversation.  

By the end of the evening, there were six at the table enjoying the food, drink and conversation.  The drinks were being brought over as our glasses emptied. Wine, Vodka, Limoncello, Muscato to name a few. The above picture on the left is their staple martini. It is an iced wine vodka martini that divinely tastes like a  grape popsicle. Highly recommended.

In the far opposite corner was another group of six enjoying their late night food and drink.  However, this group, it appeared, resembled the likes of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin.  The entourage were cautiously watching standing slightly afar. It was a scene from the movie, "Goodfellas."  Even a rendition of, 'Happy Birthday," was sung in Italian lead loudly by the 'man in the green sweater,' to a visiting chef from Italy. 


Euno's Ristorante
119 Salem Street
North End
Boston, MA

Buon Appetito!!