I'm not sure if it was summer or Facebook, but my blog has been deader than the dog days. I admit, there were several weekends that were either too hot or too rainy to do anything interesting. The main event of the fall season was J's football team, with games every Saturday for a couple of months. Unfortunately, they didn't meet with much on-field success, but J mostly had fun and is thinking of doing it again next year. In the meantime, he, L, and R have been taking swim lessons.
Work has been interesting, but I am cautious about what I post for fear of discussing sensitive business. I will say that I am working on two very interesting projects, one a direct response to the events that occurred in the Gulf of Mexico over the summer. The idea is to be prepared to respond to any future blowout. The other I hope to be able to talk about in a few months. Generally, however, I'll say that I feel like I've got my feet under me, understand the company culture, and feel like a contributing member of my team.
Last weekend, we went to Huntsville State Park. The park contains a 210 acre lake surrounded by heavy woods and a few gentle hills, a couple thousand acres in all. Okay, hills only in the East Texas sense of the word, but there is some change in elevation, at least. The woods, however, are quite thick, some of them virgin hardwoods, along with mature second growth hardwoods and pines, and there are quite a few hiking and biking trails that wind through them. We did a hike of about 1.5 miles--about all RJ and LM could handle--then rented canoes for an hour and paddled around part of the lake. It had rained in the morning, but had dried out and was maybe 55-60 degrees and moderately breezy, with a mix of clouds and sun, perfect for light jackets. All in all, it was a good time, and a place I would go back to. I would rate it as one of the nicer places I have been in Texas.
On Sunday, the children had their Primary program in church and performed their parts well. This morning at breakfast, L asked me, "Why does it say, When God was on the earth, he promised he would sin? That's bad, sinning; why did he say that?" I realized she was referring to the song from the yesterday's program, which says:
When Christ was on the earth,
He promised he would send
The Holy Ghost to comfort us,
Our true, eternal friend.
She seemed relieved at my explanation.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Uda man
H has been out of town with the kids visiting family in Missouri and Kansas. So, I’ve been alone at home. Most of that time I’ve spent working on either Church stuff like a ward cannery activity and a temple visit, or honey-do projects, like building a new ladder for the play structure, doing some minor tile replacement, and doing a refinishing project in the master shower that turned out to be far more than I bargained for.
I have been too busy bother turning on the TV--I don't watch much, anyway--but I have done a couple of enjoyable things, like seeing Robin Hood at the dollar movie on Friday and dinner at a local Vietnamese place after a long day of work on Saturday. At the Vietnamese restaurant, my server was a pleasant young man of about 20 with a thick accent (Vietnamese, I assume). He took my order, then asked, “I have a question. What’s uda?”
“Uda?”
“Uda.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Hu-da.”
“Huda. Hmm…I’m sorry, I don’t know,” I finally conceded, having no idea what he was talking about.
“Hudas, like the restaurant, with the shirt.”
Light bulb. “Hooters?” I asked tentatively.
“Yes! Hudas! What does it mean?”
Oh, that. Yes, I do know what that means, and I meekly explained the word and the concept of the restaurant as I understand it, never having been there myself. “Beeg, boobs,” I heard him say to himself deliberately as he walked away.
The vermicelli noodles with charbroiled lemon grass chicken and chopped spring rolls, lettuce, and cucumbers was outstanding, by the way. Maybe I’m not a typical guy, but I’ll continue to take my bachelor week dinners at Pho Thong Lang or at home instead of “Udas,” thank you.
I have been too busy bother turning on the TV--I don't watch much, anyway--but I have done a couple of enjoyable things, like seeing Robin Hood at the dollar movie on Friday and dinner at a local Vietnamese place after a long day of work on Saturday. At the Vietnamese restaurant, my server was a pleasant young man of about 20 with a thick accent (Vietnamese, I assume). He took my order, then asked, “I have a question. What’s uda?”
“Uda?”
“Uda.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Hu-da.”
“Huda. Hmm…I’m sorry, I don’t know,” I finally conceded, having no idea what he was talking about.
“Hudas, like the restaurant, with the shirt.”
Light bulb. “Hooters?” I asked tentatively.
“Yes! Hudas! What does it mean?”
Oh, that. Yes, I do know what that means, and I meekly explained the word and the concept of the restaurant as I understand it, never having been there myself. “Beeg, boobs,” I heard him say to himself deliberately as he walked away.
The vermicelli noodles with charbroiled lemon grass chicken and chopped spring rolls, lettuce, and cucumbers was outstanding, by the way. Maybe I’m not a typical guy, but I’ll continue to take my bachelor week dinners at Pho Thong Lang or at home instead of “Udas,” thank you.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Wilt Chamberlain, is that you?
Today, I received a contract back from a client with the following change made to our contract:
"[Party] shall indemnify, defend, and hold harmless…the indemniteeies for personal injury, death, or loss of or damage to property resulting from the indemnitor’s inseminator's negligence, GROSS NEGLIGENCE or WILLFUL MISCONDUCT."
I didn't point out to my client that he is supposed to read and negotiate the contract as far as possible before sending it to me. I simply inserted a comment in the document:
"Inseminator? Does this arrangement contemplate negligent impregnation??"
I didn't know we were in that line of business, but maybe the guy from the other company should stop inappropriately multitasking at work.
"[Party] shall indemnify, defend, and hold harmless…the indemnit
I didn't point out to my client that he is supposed to read and negotiate the contract as far as possible before sending it to me. I simply inserted a comment in the document:
"Inseminator? Does this arrangement contemplate negligent impregnation??"
I didn't know we were in that line of business, but maybe the guy from the other company should stop inappropriately multitasking at work.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Dog days are here
I haven't blogged recently, out of a combination of laziness, busyness, and the fact that my company filter was blocking blogger for a few weeks for some reason.
I had a great visit with my brother and his family earlier this month in Vermont. I had imagined Vermont to be a nicer, more rural version of Connecticut. Maybe my memory is faulty, but I feel I owe Vermont an apology. It is 100 times nicer than CT, at least in the summer. We loved our trip, from playing in the river that runs along my brother's property, to short hikes in the Green Mountains, to seeing the many quaint towns and admiring the lack of neon signs--indeed, any large signs. We had a great time, and I was happy to see everyone get along. Our parents came from Utah as well, and all of the cousins really enjoyed seeing them.
While in VT, we were able to go to Sharon, the birthplace of Joseph Smith. My brother's family graciously came along as part of a day doing other activities as well, and dutifully watched the lengthy-but-good film about Joseph Smith's life. The site was beautiful, though nothing was left of the original Smith cabin but the hearthstone and the porch stone. Still, it gave me a few minutes to reflect on the life of this remarkable man, and to pledge to try more fully in my own way to use the talents I have been given to help others and to make my life a reflection of a disciple of Christ.
Now, I'm back home, but the family is gone. My oldest daugher continued on to NYC with my parents, who have started a great tradition of taking grandchildren on a special trip the year they turn 12. S seemed to have a great time in the city and was able to see many of the iconic destinations, like the Statue of Liberty, a Broadway play, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Now, she's back in Utah for a couple more weeks of fun, and the rest of the family is in Kansas and Missouri visiting family. I'm here working, unfortunately.
I've been trying to use the time to get some minor projects done, which is just the kind of stuff I hate doing. After weighing myself at my brother's house and being concerned by the results--my own scale has been broken for a while--I've also tried to eat more healthy food and get plenty of exercise this week. Doesn't fit the bachelor stereotype, I know, but I need to get in better shape.
After mowing the law, I went to the community pool last night to cool off and swim some laps. The water felt like a bathtub, though, and with my fitness level, I soon felt like I was sweating in the water. I remember, I earned the Mile Swim patch as an afterthought when I was a scout. I was swimming all the time and had no worry about swimming just one mile. I got the patch one day at scout camp when I had nothing better to do. I hadn't tried to swim any distance in 20+ years, though. After about 150 yards, I already felt tired. Ultimately, I swam 1200 yards, or about 3/4 mile, but I was beat, and I still felt exhausted when I woke up this morning. Pathetic.
Okay, so I just checked, and the pool is supposedly 50 meters long in that configuration, so I guess I swam slightly over 3/4 mile, not slightly under. Still, it's sad to think that my lifetime peak physical conditioning peaked at around 13-15. At least my kids can't beat me yet in running or swimming sprints--but that won't last much longer if I don't get serious about my fitness.
I had a great visit with my brother and his family earlier this month in Vermont. I had imagined Vermont to be a nicer, more rural version of Connecticut. Maybe my memory is faulty, but I feel I owe Vermont an apology. It is 100 times nicer than CT, at least in the summer. We loved our trip, from playing in the river that runs along my brother's property, to short hikes in the Green Mountains, to seeing the many quaint towns and admiring the lack of neon signs--indeed, any large signs. We had a great time, and I was happy to see everyone get along. Our parents came from Utah as well, and all of the cousins really enjoyed seeing them.
While in VT, we were able to go to Sharon, the birthplace of Joseph Smith. My brother's family graciously came along as part of a day doing other activities as well, and dutifully watched the lengthy-but-good film about Joseph Smith's life. The site was beautiful, though nothing was left of the original Smith cabin but the hearthstone and the porch stone. Still, it gave me a few minutes to reflect on the life of this remarkable man, and to pledge to try more fully in my own way to use the talents I have been given to help others and to make my life a reflection of a disciple of Christ.
Now, I'm back home, but the family is gone. My oldest daugher continued on to NYC with my parents, who have started a great tradition of taking grandchildren on a special trip the year they turn 12. S seemed to have a great time in the city and was able to see many of the iconic destinations, like the Statue of Liberty, a Broadway play, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Now, she's back in Utah for a couple more weeks of fun, and the rest of the family is in Kansas and Missouri visiting family. I'm here working, unfortunately.
I've been trying to use the time to get some minor projects done, which is just the kind of stuff I hate doing. After weighing myself at my brother's house and being concerned by the results--my own scale has been broken for a while--I've also tried to eat more healthy food and get plenty of exercise this week. Doesn't fit the bachelor stereotype, I know, but I need to get in better shape.
After mowing the law, I went to the community pool last night to cool off and swim some laps. The water felt like a bathtub, though, and with my fitness level, I soon felt like I was sweating in the water. I remember, I earned the Mile Swim patch as an afterthought when I was a scout. I was swimming all the time and had no worry about swimming just one mile. I got the patch one day at scout camp when I had nothing better to do. I hadn't tried to swim any distance in 20+ years, though. After about 150 yards, I already felt tired. Ultimately, I swam 1200 yards, or about 3/4 mile, but I was beat, and I still felt exhausted when I woke up this morning. Pathetic.
Okay, so I just checked, and the pool is supposedly 50 meters long in that configuration, so I guess I swam slightly over 3/4 mile, not slightly under. Still, it's sad to think that my lifetime peak physical conditioning peaked at around 13-15. At least my kids can't beat me yet in running or swimming sprints--but that won't last much longer if I don't get serious about my fitness.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Psalm 51
Our Sunday School lesson last week was on David and Bathsheba. Such a tragedy for a man who spent the rest of his life doing good. We discussed Psalm 51, which is his contrition after his sin. Here is my rendering of that Psalm:
Lord, shew me thy tender mercies,
Cleanse me from my every sin.
I acknowledge my transgressions:
Wash me thoroughly within.
I have sinned against thee only,
And done evil in thy sight.
Save me from a fearful judgment;
Set my inward parts aright.
Purge me clean with fragrant hyssop,
Wash me whiter than the snow,
Make me hear of joy and gladness—
Broken free from sin’s dark throes.
Grant the joy of thy salvation,
Take thy Spirit not from me.
Then will I convert transgressors—
Sinners shall I turn to thee.
Open thou my lips for singing,
And my mouth shall sing thy praise.
Thou desirest not burnt off’rings,
Nor in sacrifice thy ways.
With a broken spirit offered,
And a broken, contrite heart,
I shall speak of thy good pleasure,
And yet choose the better part.
Lord, shew me thy tender mercies,
Cleanse me from my every sin.
I acknowledge my transgressions:
Wash me thoroughly within.
I have sinned against thee only,
And done evil in thy sight.
Save me from a fearful judgment;
Set my inward parts aright.
Purge me clean with fragrant hyssop,
Wash me whiter than the snow,
Make me hear of joy and gladness—
Broken free from sin’s dark throes.
Grant the joy of thy salvation,
Take thy Spirit not from me.
Then will I convert transgressors—
Sinners shall I turn to thee.
Open thou my lips for singing,
And my mouth shall sing thy praise.
Thou desirest not burnt off’rings,
Nor in sacrifice thy ways.
With a broken spirit offered,
And a broken, contrite heart,
I shall speak of thy good pleasure,
And yet choose the better part.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Divisionals
The divisional swim meet went well. Both JW and LM improved on their best times in each event in which they swim. LM went from not being able to swim backstroke six weeks ago to finishing second in her heat of eight on Saturday. JW also finished second in his heat in breaststroke and backstroke. To be sure, the kids are not yet among the fastest in their age groups--JW is finishing in the middle (backstroke) to lower-middle of the pack, and LM is still one of the slower racers. However, both have made progress very quickly this season, and both have another year to swim in the same age group, which should make a big difference. With some practice this summer--LM is signed up for another swim class next month, for instance--I'm hopeful they can improve enough to swim in the final heat next year (heats are seeded by qualifying times, so the fastest swimmers are generally in the last heat).
Friday, June 18, 2010
Birthday time
When we asked JW what he wanted to do for his birthday, he said he wanted to have the Mc___ family over for dinner. He also had a swim meet, though, so we had that first. Then, a family from church had invited us over for their daughter's birthday party. They had a huge inflatable waterslide and water play structure and a slip 'n slide in the backyard, so the kids played there for a while. Then, it was home for dinner with the Mc____ family. They have a boy who is a grade behind JW and with him in cub scouts. We ate pizza from our favorite place, played games, and watched the kids swim in the pool. Having a backyard pool makes summer birthdays easy, handy as three of the four kids have summer birthdays, and so do I. Our extended family seems to cluster birthdays around certain times. JW shares a birthday with a cousin, whose dad has a birthday a day apart. October and December are the other big birthday times.
Next up, RJ has his 3rd birthday next week. His grandparents are coming today for a visit and will celebrate with us. He says a lot of funny things these days in his barely intelligible voice--I need to write more of them down. For instance, last week he said, "Dad, don't bite your nails, or you will get worms in your butt!"
Next up, RJ has his 3rd birthday next week. His grandparents are coming today for a visit and will celebrate with us. He says a lot of funny things these days in his barely intelligible voice--I need to write more of them down. For instance, last week he said, "Dad, don't bite your nails, or you will get worms in your butt!"
Monday, June 14, 2010
Daniel-san
If you are between 30 and 45, you probably can tell the subject of this post by the title. On Friday night, for J's birthday, we took him, his older sister, and a friend from church to see The Karate Kid, the new movie starring Jaden Smith. For anyone of my generation, however, this is a tall order, because the movie is a remake of one of the 1980s' cultural icons.
The movie was pretty good, but it was hard to replace the original. On the way home, it spawned a discussion between my wife and me on the most memorable movies of the 1980's. I maintained that 80% of people our age, asked to list the big, enduring movies of their childhood, would have listed "Karate Kid" among the list. Not only was every kid in America named Daniel called Daniel-san regularly through the early 90's, but the movie also spawned many other repeated phrases and gestures, such as:
The movie was pretty good, but it was hard to replace the original. On the way home, it spawned a discussion between my wife and me on the most memorable movies of the 1980's. I maintained that 80% of people our age, asked to list the big, enduring movies of their childhood, would have listed "Karate Kid" among the list. Not only was every kid in America named Daniel called Daniel-san regularly through the early 90's, but the movie also spawned many other repeated phrases and gestures, such as:
- "Wax on, wax off" (accompanied by hand movements)
- The "crane" position
- "Squish just like grape."
- "Mr. Miyagi"
- "Sweep the leg."
- "Strike first, strike hard, no mercy, sir!"
- "No, Sensei!"
What other movies of the era had a similarly enduring impact on Gen X kids? We came up with a few possibilities, but not many: Indiana Jones and Star Wars (for older Gen Xers) franchises, Top Gun, maybe Ferris Buehler's Day Off, Ghostbusters, or Princess Bride. But the list would be short, and I think most people would have Karate Kid on theirs.
FWIW, I thought the new movie was well done. It paid proper homage to the original while still being fresh. The cinematography was great, as the movie was filmed in China rather than SoCal. If you're a Gen Xer, don't be afraid to take your kids to this one for a trip down memory lane.
"You're all right, LaRusso."
Off to camp
S is old enough by two days to attend church girl's camp this summer. I'm hopeful that she'll meet new friends from other wards who attend her school, and also have some faith-building experiences. Still, it is a little scary to send her off. She's never been gone from home for so long before. I was giving her advice and kisses this morning, and she said, "Dad, it's only a week." I know, but it's an important week for her. She's probably the most like me of my children and is still a Daddy's girl to some extent.
Gator bait
The kids had their last dual meet of the season on Saturday before divisionals this Saturday, against the Gators. It was fun to see how much they have improved during their first season of competitive swimming. J, on his birthday, cut a second from his best time in one event and 0.6 in another. He's finishing towards the middle of the pack in his best event and will be in the same age group next year, when he could be a contender for ribbons. Since he has a summer birthday, it's nice that he can be classified as one of the oldest at something for a change.
L has improved by leaps and bounds. At time trials, she would take a couple of strokes, grab the lane line and steel herself, then repeat. Once I called out to her to keep swimming, and she yelled back, "I'm not ready! Stop yelling!" Her time was about five minutes, and that was the only stroke she swam. Now, she has added backstroke and has been gradually improving her times--but Saturday was a breakthrough. In freestyle, she swam the 25 yards for the first time (except right as she jumped in) without stopping or grabbing the rope. Her stroke mechanics weren't quite up to her best, but she still took her best time from 1:41 to 1:05 and beat a swimmer from the other team for the first time. Afterwards, I asked her if she was thinking, "Keep going, don't grab the rope," as she was swimming. She said, "No, I was thinking, ' I want to beat a Gator!" She told me, though, that she didn't want to beat anyone from her own team, because that wouldn't be nice.
In backstroke, which she couldn't do a month ago, her progress is even better now that she's discovering the competition aspect of swimming--and it can't hurt that they were giving out little prizes to any swimmer that improved on a best time. She took her best time from 1:26.32 to 47.56--shaving a whopping 45% off of her previous best--and finished 18th of 30 in her group. Since she also has another year in the same age group and is making such quick progress, she should also be able to move up to the final heat next year, at least in backstroke.
L has improved by leaps and bounds. At time trials, she would take a couple of strokes, grab the lane line and steel herself, then repeat. Once I called out to her to keep swimming, and she yelled back, "I'm not ready! Stop yelling!" Her time was about five minutes, and that was the only stroke she swam. Now, she has added backstroke and has been gradually improving her times--but Saturday was a breakthrough. In freestyle, she swam the 25 yards for the first time (except right as she jumped in) without stopping or grabbing the rope. Her stroke mechanics weren't quite up to her best, but she still took her best time from 1:41 to 1:05 and beat a swimmer from the other team for the first time. Afterwards, I asked her if she was thinking, "Keep going, don't grab the rope," as she was swimming. She said, "No, I was thinking, '
In backstroke, which she couldn't do a month ago, her progress is even better now that she's discovering the competition aspect of swimming--and it can't hurt that they were giving out little prizes to any swimmer that improved on a best time. She took her best time from 1:26.32 to 47.56--shaving a whopping 45% off of her previous best--and finished 18th of 30 in her group. Since she also has another year in the same age group and is making such quick progress, she should also be able to move up to the final heat next year, at least in backstroke.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sniglets
In the 1980's, there was a book called Sniglets: Words that Should Be in the Dictionary, but Aren't. They were made-up words, like "vacation elbow," for Dad's ability to contort his body and stretch his arm to reach you in the back seat when you are fighting on a long drive. Lately, I've been thinking of words I could change or add one letter to create a Sniglet. So far I've come up with:
hospitility: how you treat visiting relatives you don't want to stay too long
due dulligence: board deliberations before an ill-conceived, bubble-fueled merger
chief sexecutive: a president, governor, mayor, or CEO caught in a public sex scandal
idiet: a fad or crash diet with no sound nutritional underpinning; also, someone on such a diet
incestment management: when the people running the US Treasury Dept are all former Goldman Sachs employees
mosquitoe: that itch your foot gets right after you've laced up your hiking boots
sin-laws: the parents of a live-in boyfriend or girlfriend
Lust: a pointless TV show about a bunch of attractive people who crash on a remote island already populated with other attractive people (oops, that's not a new definition)
iPaid: the newest, must-have pricey gadget from Apple
litigatar: the lawyers who will get rich over the next 20 years fighting over tar balls washing up on Gulf Coast beaches
What Sniglets can you create by tweaking an existing word?
hospitility: how you treat visiting relatives you don't want to stay too long
due dulligence: board deliberations before an ill-conceived, bubble-fueled merger
chief sexecutive: a president, governor, mayor, or CEO caught in a public sex scandal
idiet: a fad or crash diet with no sound nutritional underpinning; also, someone on such a diet
incestment management: when the people running the US Treasury Dept are all former Goldman Sachs employees
mosquitoe: that itch your foot gets right after you've laced up your hiking boots
sin-laws: the parents of a live-in boyfriend or girlfriend
Lust: a pointless TV show about a bunch of attractive people who crash on a remote island already populated with other attractive people (oops, that's not a new definition)
iPaid: the newest, must-have pricey gadget from Apple
litigatar: the lawyers who will get rich over the next 20 years fighting over tar balls washing up on Gulf Coast beaches
What Sniglets can you create by tweaking an existing word?
Memorable lunch
It gets old eating at the same few places over and over. I didn't bring a lunch today and no one to go with, so I ventured out for lunch to a nearby Vietnamese place I've seen on my drive in. I first tried Vietnamese in Boulder, CO in 1998--never having seen a Vietnamese restaurant before that--and loved it. In Utah, Vietnamese was much harder to find than, say, Thai, but there are many such restaurants here. I understand we have one of the highest concentrations of Vietnamese-Americans in the country.
I hadn't eaten there before, so I let myself get talked into the beef soup. I know, that's a strange choice when it's 90 degrees outside. I hoped it was a good sign when they brought me a spring roll full of ground meat (pork?) that was among the best I've ever eaten. It had a crunchy-but-not-too-oily outside, and a fresh-tasting inside with a phenomenal combination of meat and vegetables. It was served with a sauce that was slightly sweet, but also acidic.
When the soup arrived, I was nervous. It had huge carrot chunks, lots of onion, cilantro and other herbs, and beef straight from an episode of Bizarre Foods. This beef smelled good, but it was mostly connective tissue and fat and looked like the stuff you'd normally throw away or make into pet food. But, persuaded by Andrew Zimmern's claims that some of the best flavor is in those "inferior" cuts, I decided to give it a try.
I tried the soup and thought, as Zimmern would say, "Are you kidding me?!" The soup was outstanding, as long as I didn't look too closely at the "meat." I'm no food critic, so I can't describe it well, but it was very savory with just a hint of sweet, and a strong-but-not-overpowering beef flavor. If you eat Thai food, it had a taste somewhat like a tom yum soup, but beefy, and better, IMO. It was served with a "sandwich," which was just the bread you might use to make a hero. The bread was crunchy and flaky and was wonderful when dipped into the broth long enough to get the flavor but not long enough to get soggy.
The soup also came with a side of fresh herbs and a lime that could be added to the soup. I did use some of them, but it was not necessary. This soup was so good on its own that it rivaled any soup or chili I've ever eaten, including the best french onion, chicken tortilla, or tom yum, and right up there with an excellent coconut-milk tom ka gai. And I love anything with coconut milk, so that's saying something. I'll definitely be suggesting this place soon for a lunch with my colleagues.
I hadn't eaten there before, so I let myself get talked into the beef soup. I know, that's a strange choice when it's 90 degrees outside. I hoped it was a good sign when they brought me a spring roll full of ground meat (pork?) that was among the best I've ever eaten. It had a crunchy-but-not-too-oily outside, and a fresh-tasting inside with a phenomenal combination of meat and vegetables. It was served with a sauce that was slightly sweet, but also acidic.
When the soup arrived, I was nervous. It had huge carrot chunks, lots of onion, cilantro and other herbs, and beef straight from an episode of Bizarre Foods. This beef smelled good, but it was mostly connective tissue and fat and looked like the stuff you'd normally throw away or make into pet food. But, persuaded by Andrew Zimmern's claims that some of the best flavor is in those "inferior" cuts, I decided to give it a try.
I tried the soup and thought, as Zimmern would say, "Are you kidding me?!" The soup was outstanding, as long as I didn't look too closely at the "meat." I'm no food critic, so I can't describe it well, but it was very savory with just a hint of sweet, and a strong-but-not-overpowering beef flavor. If you eat Thai food, it had a taste somewhat like a tom yum soup, but beefy, and better, IMO. It was served with a "sandwich," which was just the bread you might use to make a hero. The bread was crunchy and flaky and was wonderful when dipped into the broth long enough to get the flavor but not long enough to get soggy.
The soup also came with a side of fresh herbs and a lime that could be added to the soup. I did use some of them, but it was not necessary. This soup was so good on its own that it rivaled any soup or chili I've ever eaten, including the best french onion, chicken tortilla, or tom yum, and right up there with an excellent coconut-milk tom ka gai. And I love anything with coconut milk, so that's saying something. I'll definitely be suggesting this place soon for a lunch with my colleagues.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Golf fiasco
The law department here has a summer golf series for attorneys. My boss is an avid golfer, and he encouraged me to give it a try, so I signed up to play yesterday. It seemed like a good opportunity to network with colleagues and have a nice time. It's semi-sponsored, meaning we pay our own green fees, but the company gives us the time off if we can get our work done. This was my first time, so I wasn't quite sure to expect, but I'm not a very good golfer, so I was just hoping to keep up enough to enjoy some pleasant company. I was hopeful, because I had a pretty good outing last time I went with my son.
The venue was the Tournament Course in The Woodlands, a course that has hosted numerous PGA events and an LPGA world championship. It is a spectacular course. Unfortunately, the address on the email directed me to the main address for the country club, which was the Palmer Course. I didn't know this until after I'd changed in the locker room, unable to put my clothes in a locker since I was not a member. I eventually found out at the pro shop that there was no group from my company there that day. I was given directions, which included turning on Mill Bend Dr., which was several miles away.
I raced to my car and drove back. When I got to Millbend Dr., I recognized where I was and turned in to the golf course near The Woodlands conference center. I quickly raced to the pro shop, apologized for being late, and tried to pay my green fees.
Oops, again. It turns out there is a N. Milbend and a S. Millbend, and I was at the wrong course yet again. By this time, I was flustered. I hate being late, I didn't know the people I'd be playing with, and I am not a good golfer. I finally made it to the right course, but the golf pro said I wasn't on the list. No worries, I paid my $80 (ouch!!) green fees and raced out just as the last group from my company was teeing off. They seemed surprised to see me, but were friendly. I was the only one wearing long pants in the Texas heat, and I had conveniently left my golf shoes home, thinking I'd left them in my car from last time I played with my son.
Completely unnerved by this point, I stepped up and whacked my drive into some trees with a loud thunk. And, that's how the round went. It was my luck to be in a threesome with an attorney who was a very good golfer and a ringer from a different department brought in to score points for one of the teams. They were both very good, and well, I was not.
The Tournament Course is a beautiful course. At each tee box, there is a bronze sign telling players how some PGA player or other made it famous through brilliant or sloppy play at some event. The greens and fairways are well-manicured, the trees are mature and beautiful, water and white-sand bunkers abound, and one green is on an island. And the course is HARD.
The course website helpfully tells you that two of the holes were rated two of the four most difficult holes in Texas. Well, it showed for me. I went through a huge store of balls lost in the water, and a couple lost in the rough. The fairways are narrow, and the water and bunkers are set up not just to be beautiful, but to gobble up errant shots.
I played most of the round poorly, even by my standards. I felt foolish compared to these two very strong golfers. Midway through, I was thinking to myself that I never wanted to play golf again and hoping my store of balls would last (I lost probably ten balls). A couple of times, to avoid slowing the group, I took favorable drops across the water or nearer the green. Luckily, as I was at a low point, I started hitting a few shots better and getting a couple of bogeys. Towards the end, we caught up with another twosome from the company and played a few holes with them. This was so much better, as they were not nearly as good of golfers. They were still better than me, but one guy lost several balls over those holes and hit his share of bad shots. The heat was brutal early on, but it cooled and eventually turned into rain towards the end of the round.
We were the last group and were slowed by congestion in front of us, so some of the people had left by the time we made it to the clubhouse, but there was food and good company waiting for us when we arrived. It turned out to be okay, and I was able to meet some other lawyers from the company. But, I've decided I either need to play golf more or less. Since I now have two kids old enough to play with me a wife who likes to play from time to time, I'll probably keep playing and rotate who I take. But, it will certainly be at cheaper, cruddy courses, because I can't afford those green fees (and I'm not a member of and have zero desire to join a country club). Luckily, the next golf outing isn't for a few months--few people want to play midday in the middle of the summer here--so I've got time to think about it.
The venue was the Tournament Course in The Woodlands, a course that has hosted numerous PGA events and an LPGA world championship. It is a spectacular course. Unfortunately, the address on the email directed me to the main address for the country club, which was the Palmer Course. I didn't know this until after I'd changed in the locker room, unable to put my clothes in a locker since I was not a member. I eventually found out at the pro shop that there was no group from my company there that day. I was given directions, which included turning on Mill Bend Dr., which was several miles away.
I raced to my car and drove back. When I got to Millbend Dr., I recognized where I was and turned in to the golf course near The Woodlands conference center. I quickly raced to the pro shop, apologized for being late, and tried to pay my green fees.
Oops, again. It turns out there is a N. Milbend and a S. Millbend, and I was at the wrong course yet again. By this time, I was flustered. I hate being late, I didn't know the people I'd be playing with, and I am not a good golfer. I finally made it to the right course, but the golf pro said I wasn't on the list. No worries, I paid my $80 (ouch!!) green fees and raced out just as the last group from my company was teeing off. They seemed surprised to see me, but were friendly. I was the only one wearing long pants in the Texas heat, and I had conveniently left my golf shoes home, thinking I'd left them in my car from last time I played with my son.
Completely unnerved by this point, I stepped up and whacked my drive into some trees with a loud thunk. And, that's how the round went. It was my luck to be in a threesome with an attorney who was a very good golfer and a ringer from a different department brought in to score points for one of the teams. They were both very good, and well, I was not.
The Tournament Course is a beautiful course. At each tee box, there is a bronze sign telling players how some PGA player or other made it famous through brilliant or sloppy play at some event. The greens and fairways are well-manicured, the trees are mature and beautiful, water and white-sand bunkers abound, and one green is on an island. And the course is HARD.
The course website helpfully tells you that two of the holes were rated two of the four most difficult holes in Texas. Well, it showed for me. I went through a huge store of balls lost in the water, and a couple lost in the rough. The fairways are narrow, and the water and bunkers are set up not just to be beautiful, but to gobble up errant shots.
I played most of the round poorly, even by my standards. I felt foolish compared to these two very strong golfers. Midway through, I was thinking to myself that I never wanted to play golf again and hoping my store of balls would last (I lost probably ten balls). A couple of times, to avoid slowing the group, I took favorable drops across the water or nearer the green. Luckily, as I was at a low point, I started hitting a few shots better and getting a couple of bogeys. Towards the end, we caught up with another twosome from the company and played a few holes with them. This was so much better, as they were not nearly as good of golfers. They were still better than me, but one guy lost several balls over those holes and hit his share of bad shots. The heat was brutal early on, but it cooled and eventually turned into rain towards the end of the round.
We were the last group and were slowed by congestion in front of us, so some of the people had left by the time we made it to the clubhouse, but there was food and good company waiting for us when we arrived. It turned out to be okay, and I was able to meet some other lawyers from the company. But, I've decided I either need to play golf more or less. Since I now have two kids old enough to play with me a wife who likes to play from time to time, I'll probably keep playing and rotate who I take. But, it will certainly be at cheaper, cruddy courses, because I can't afford those green fees (and I'm not a member of and have zero desire to join a country club). Luckily, the next golf outing isn't for a few months--few people want to play midday in the middle of the summer here--so I've got time to think about it.
Container ship tour
Recently, I got to go on a tour of the CMA CGM Georgia, a large container ship belonging to one of the marine dry cargo shippers my company uses to ship products. It was a cool opportunity to see some of the port facilities and to go on a very large boat.
The tour was very interesting. We got to see the process of how cargo moves from ship through offloading, customs, etc. and onto the highway, or vice versa. We got a detailed behind-the-scenes tour of this 1000-foot cargo ship, including meeting with the captain and chief engineer. I got to go onto the bridge, sit in the captain's chair, and examine the navigational equipment.
I also got to visit the engine control room, which is air conditioned, but smelled strongly of oil, and the engine area, which was very hot and so noisy you had to yell and be within a few feet to speak with another person. You would need ear protection if you were there for more than a few minutes. I believe there are ten cylinders to the engine, and each had a turbocharger alone the size of a room. It was very interesting, but I can’t imagine how unpleasant it would have been to work in the boiler room of an old coal-fired ship.
They actually have a few passenger cabins on most freighters and some companies allow you to book "cruises" on these freighters to obscure destinations. It's cheaper than normal cruising, but the amenities are awfully sparse. You'd be spending a lot of time reading and watching movies or playing ping pong with the small, international crew. This ship had a crew of 18, mostly Romanians and Filipinos. There is a small pool, exercise room, and lounge, but it would be nothing like a normal cruise.
It was interesting to watch the cranes loading cargo and see how efficient many of the operations are. They can load/unload 1500 shipping containers within 24 hours, so most of the port calls are fairly brief for the crew. My grandfather was a customs inspector in San Francisco when that was a major shipping port, and I thought how he would have enjoyed seeing how things have changed since his days going aboard arriving ships.
The tour was very interesting. We got to see the process of how cargo moves from ship through offloading, customs, etc. and onto the highway, or vice versa. We got a detailed behind-the-scenes tour of this 1000-foot cargo ship, including meeting with the captain and chief engineer. I got to go onto the bridge, sit in the captain's chair, and examine the navigational equipment.
I also got to visit the engine control room, which is air conditioned, but smelled strongly of oil, and the engine area, which was very hot and so noisy you had to yell and be within a few feet to speak with another person. You would need ear protection if you were there for more than a few minutes. I believe there are ten cylinders to the engine, and each had a turbocharger alone the size of a room. It was very interesting, but I can’t imagine how unpleasant it would have been to work in the boiler room of an old coal-fired ship.
They actually have a few passenger cabins on most freighters and some companies allow you to book "cruises" on these freighters to obscure destinations. It's cheaper than normal cruising, but the amenities are awfully sparse. You'd be spending a lot of time reading and watching movies or playing ping pong with the small, international crew. This ship had a crew of 18, mostly Romanians and Filipinos. There is a small pool, exercise room, and lounge, but it would be nothing like a normal cruise.
It was interesting to watch the cranes loading cargo and see how efficient many of the operations are. They can load/unload 1500 shipping containers within 24 hours, so most of the port calls are fairly brief for the crew. My grandfather was a customs inspector in San Francisco when that was a major shipping port, and I thought how he would have enjoyed seeing how things have changed since his days going aboard arriving ships.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Adventures yet to be
My sister posted some things she'd like to do before she dies and asked us what we had in mind on our bucket lists. I have lots of goals and things I'd like to do, but I'll just share a few in the adventure/travel category. These are just some things I'd like to see or do, not that I'm checking them off a must-do list:
Go hiking in the giant Sequoia redwoods of California
Visit Jerusalem when it's safe, Thailand, also when it's safer than right now, Rome, and Scotland
Hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and then raft the Colorado River
Parachute from a plane
Enter an open water swim in a fun place like Hawaii
Live in a foreign country at least one more time, hopefully more
Hike Mt. Kilimanjaro
Visit the fjords in Norway or Alaska
Take an extended, multicity train trip (won't happen in the US with the current train system)
Work remotely for a summer from a rented beach house or mountain cabin
Visit The Maze district of Canyonlands (one of the most remote places in the U.S.) during a meteor shower and sleep under the stars
Ride a camel
Go hiking in the giant Sequoia redwoods of California
Visit Jerusalem when it's safe, Thailand, also when it's safer than right now, Rome, and Scotland
Hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and then raft the Colorado River
Parachute from a plane
Enter an open water swim in a fun place like Hawaii
Live in a foreign country at least one more time, hopefully more
Hike Mt. Kilimanjaro
Visit the fjords in Norway or Alaska
Take an extended, multicity train trip (won't happen in the US with the current train system)
Work remotely for a summer from a rented beach house or mountain cabin
Visit The Maze district of Canyonlands (one of the most remote places in the U.S.) during a meteor shower and sleep under the stars
Ride a camel
Friday, May 28, 2010
Glory Days
I haven't written much lately. We've been so busy, with something almost every night, and two things on Saturdays, for the past few weeks.
Tonight, my kids' swim team had a pizza party, like they do before every home meet. People set up "pop-ups," or canopies for shade, and otherwise get ready for the meet the next morning. This time, they announced they would be having family relay races, so J, L, a reluctant S and I decided to participate. L is probably the slowest swimmer on the team, so we weren't in it to win, but it seemed fun.
I don't remember the last time I swam a sprint, and I hadn't used a starting block in 20+ years, but I felt good in a warm-up dive. I am admittedly out of shape and don't have good endurance, but I thought I could show these kids and the other participating dads a flash of my former prowess. As J touched the wall after his leg, I sprung off the block, got a good underwater kick--and immediately got a Charlie horse in my calf, before I had even surfaced. Guess I better warm up first next time. Or better yet, take a master class and get in shape.
For the record, though, I did swim a pretty fast no-breather* through the leg cramp, although my loose-fitting Bermuda shorts started slipping, and I almost exposed myself. Now, where's that Icy Hot?
* No-breather: Swimming the entire (25 meter) pool length without breathing.
Tonight, my kids' swim team had a pizza party, like they do before every home meet. People set up "pop-ups," or canopies for shade, and otherwise get ready for the meet the next morning. This time, they announced they would be having family relay races, so J, L, a reluctant S and I decided to participate. L is probably the slowest swimmer on the team, so we weren't in it to win, but it seemed fun.
I don't remember the last time I swam a sprint, and I hadn't used a starting block in 20+ years, but I felt good in a warm-up dive. I am admittedly out of shape and don't have good endurance, but I thought I could show these kids and the other participating dads a flash of my former prowess. As J touched the wall after his leg, I sprung off the block, got a good underwater kick--and immediately got a Charlie horse in my calf, before I had even surfaced. Guess I better warm up first next time. Or better yet, take a master class and get in shape.
For the record, though, I did swim a pretty fast no-breather* through the leg cramp, although my loose-fitting Bermuda shorts started slipping, and I almost exposed myself. Now, where's that Icy Hot?
* No-breather: Swimming the entire (25 meter) pool length without breathing.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Things kids say
My 5 yo asked me tonight, "Dad, are you going to be dead in five years?"
"What?!"
"Dead. You know, like Michael Jackson. When are you going to die?"
"I don't know! Hopefully not until I'm old."
"You want to be old?"
Hopefully yes, eventually...though I'll still be "Bad" at heart...
"What?!"
"Dead. You know, like Michael Jackson. When are you going to die?"
"I don't know! Hopefully not until I'm old."
"You want to be old?"
Hopefully yes, eventually...though I'll still be "Bad" at heart...
Busy day
Last weekend was a busy one. I took my son J golfing for the first time. He'll turn 10 this summer, and he's wanted to go for a while. I don't play much, but I want to start playing more. I recently missed out on a work-santioned golf outing because I didn't feel confident enough in my game to play. There was a small group there that included several legal executives, so I decided I need to play enough to have those networking activities.
For my first time in Texas and my son's first time playing, we chose a par-3 course not too far from our home. The greens were in terrible shape, but the price was right. For about $30, I covered green fees for both of us plus a cart, which is a big plus to any nine-year-old. Many of the courses around here are quite a bit more expensive. The one closest to our home is 18 holes only, and it's about $45. I just can't justify an expense like that with any regularity, and a little more play is what I need to feel good enough to play for work.
Other than the greens, the course was pretty enough. We saw two large turtles, and J picked one up. We also saw quite a few frogs and ducks, and the course was covered with tall trees. J had fun and did pretty well, and I did good--by my standards--considering I hadn't played since last fall. I hit the last three greens from the tee, which is very unusual for me.
When we got home, I helped H cut down a live oak tree in our yard. It was a pretty tree, but it was crowded by several other trees that needed more room. Strange to say after our last two homes, but we actually had too many trees. We ended up paying someone to cut down a few other trees next to the house. We still have around 20 trees on the property, though.
That evening, we had the bishop's family over for dinner. He has nine children and one on the way, but the oldest two are out of the house, so there were "only" 15 of us. He is very extraverted, so we had a good time and laughed a lot, but I was tired by the end of the day. Still, it's good to feel like we're integrating into the ward and meeting people. H is enjoying it here so far, and if she's happy, I'm happy.
For my first time in Texas and my son's first time playing, we chose a par-3 course not too far from our home. The greens were in terrible shape, but the price was right. For about $30, I covered green fees for both of us plus a cart, which is a big plus to any nine-year-old. Many of the courses around here are quite a bit more expensive. The one closest to our home is 18 holes only, and it's about $45. I just can't justify an expense like that with any regularity, and a little more play is what I need to feel good enough to play for work.
Other than the greens, the course was pretty enough. We saw two large turtles, and J picked one up. We also saw quite a few frogs and ducks, and the course was covered with tall trees. J had fun and did pretty well, and I did good--by my standards--considering I hadn't played since last fall. I hit the last three greens from the tee, which is very unusual for me.
When we got home, I helped H cut down a live oak tree in our yard. It was a pretty tree, but it was crowded by several other trees that needed more room. Strange to say after our last two homes, but we actually had too many trees. We ended up paying someone to cut down a few other trees next to the house. We still have around 20 trees on the property, though.
That evening, we had the bishop's family over for dinner. He has nine children and one on the way, but the oldest two are out of the house, so there were "only" 15 of us. He is very extraverted, so we had a good time and laughed a lot, but I was tired by the end of the day. Still, it's good to feel like we're integrating into the ward and meeting people. H is enjoying it here so far, and if she's happy, I'm happy.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The Grim strikes again
On Thursday, I waited until morning to put out my garbage. I wasn't going to risk putting it out the night before for the dog. So, I put it out right before I took my shower, and I made sure the bags with food waste were in a garbage can and not just sitting by the curb.
By the time I left for work scarcely 30 minutes later, my nemesis had pulled the bag out of the garbage can and shredded it, so I spent several minutes in my suit cleaning up the mess. Grr. I guess I'll have to clamp the lid down tightly next time. Either that, or put out some hamburger laced with rat poison and shards of glass...
By the time I left for work scarcely 30 minutes later, my nemesis had pulled the bag out of the garbage can and shredded it, so I spent several minutes in my suit cleaning up the mess. Grr. I guess I'll have to clamp the lid down tightly next time. Either that, or put out some hamburger laced with rat poison and shards of glass...
Friday, April 30, 2010
Weather
I thought I'd put up a little post on TX weather today while I still can. That is, I expect pretty soon it will be incredibly hot here and I'll be counting the months until fall. But for now, I can talk some smack and run some numbers.
A family member in Utah warned me that the weather here "is only nice for two weeks a year." Anecdotally, I'm not complaining right now. It's been about 80 degrees F or a bit under all week, with evenings in the low 70's, perfect for poolside grilling. Meanwhile, my brother's home in Vermont and my family in Utah all saw snow this week. But, I saw some rare snow flurries last winter, too. So, let's look at some admittedly imperfect evidence, using long-term averages from Weather.com.
For purposes of this comparison, I'll count ideal temperatures as highs between 50-80. By that measure, I see ideal weather from October 22 - April 21, exactly half of the year. Yes, there are occasional cold days in the winter, and this winter was worse than most, but the average high never drops below 62 degrees, so it's generally quite tolerable for six months straight.
My hometown, in contrast, is over 80 from June 3 - September 27, or 117 days, and below 50 from Nov 15 - Mar 1, another 105 days. In other words, that leaves just 143 days within my somewhat arbitrary "ideal" range, about 40 days less than here. Interestingly enough, however, the ideal range where my brother lives is 4/17 - 10/26, which is about a week longer than where I live--and is almost Texas' inverse in terms of the calendar. Whereas I never get below 50, he never gets above 80, and when it finally gets warm enough to be tolerable there, it's just becoming too hot where I live!**
Upshot #1: The badness of the weather here is overrated. I've enjoyed many pleasant days between Jan - April, and the thought of glorious weather from mid-fall on should help a bit when the heat drags on and on like the cold does back home.
Upshot #2: My brother and I could approximate a Mediterranean climate by retiring to each other's homes for half of the year. Buying two homes under this strategy would still be cheaper than buying one home in Northern California.
Upshot #3: Utah kin wanting to visit a distant brother/son/friend in April or October can't go wrong (though I suggest New England for fall foliage and Texas for spring wildflowers). But if you must come here in the summer, we have three a/c units, a pool, and a gameroom, and we still promise to heap on the bbq and Southern hospitality. And I hear my brother has a pretty good ski mountain behind his house if you accidentally visit there in January.
**Yes, I am aware of several limitations in my methodology. For instance, Utah has mountains to escape the heat and less humidity. Utah also has more below 50 days in the margins, though, since it never averages close to that cold here. The temperature here also varies less between night and day here and in Vermont than in Utah's higher, dryer climate, so a day with a high of 50 in Utah may mean you're freezing your tail off much of the day. OTOH, a day with a high of 90 in Utah might be pleasant in the morning or evening, but that's less likely here. And, as my brother would point out, a 20-degree day skiing is better than a 65-degree day grilling.
A family member in Utah warned me that the weather here "is only nice for two weeks a year." Anecdotally, I'm not complaining right now. It's been about 80 degrees F or a bit under all week, with evenings in the low 70's, perfect for poolside grilling. Meanwhile, my brother's home in Vermont and my family in Utah all saw snow this week. But, I saw some rare snow flurries last winter, too. So, let's look at some admittedly imperfect evidence, using long-term averages from Weather.com.
For purposes of this comparison, I'll count ideal temperatures as highs between 50-80. By that measure, I see ideal weather from October 22 - April 21, exactly half of the year. Yes, there are occasional cold days in the winter, and this winter was worse than most, but the average high never drops below 62 degrees, so it's generally quite tolerable for six months straight.
My hometown, in contrast, is over 80 from June 3 - September 27, or 117 days, and below 50 from Nov 15 - Mar 1, another 105 days. In other words, that leaves just 143 days within my somewhat arbitrary "ideal" range, about 40 days less than here. Interestingly enough, however, the ideal range where my brother lives is 4/17 - 10/26, which is about a week longer than where I live--and is almost Texas' inverse in terms of the calendar. Whereas I never get below 50, he never gets above 80, and when it finally gets warm enough to be tolerable there, it's just becoming too hot where I live!**
Upshot #1: The badness of the weather here is overrated. I've enjoyed many pleasant days between Jan - April, and the thought of glorious weather from mid-fall on should help a bit when the heat drags on and on like the cold does back home.
Upshot #2: My brother and I could approximate a Mediterranean climate by retiring to each other's homes for half of the year. Buying two homes under this strategy would still be cheaper than buying one home in Northern California.
Upshot #3: Utah kin wanting to visit a distant brother/son/friend in April or October can't go wrong (though I suggest New England for fall foliage and Texas for spring wildflowers). But if you must come here in the summer, we have three a/c units, a pool, and a gameroom, and we still promise to heap on the bbq and Southern hospitality. And I hear my brother has a pretty good ski mountain behind his house if you accidentally visit there in January.
**Yes, I am aware of several limitations in my methodology. For instance, Utah has mountains to escape the heat and less humidity. Utah also has more below 50 days in the margins, though, since it never averages close to that cold here. The temperature here also varies less between night and day here and in Vermont than in Utah's higher, dryer climate, so a day with a high of 50 in Utah may mean you're freezing your tail off much of the day. OTOH, a day with a high of 90 in Utah might be pleasant in the morning or evening, but that's less likely here. And, as my brother would point out, a 20-degree day skiing is better than a 65-degree day grilling.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Texas-shaped pride
I went to the grocery store the other day to pick up a couple of things and headed to the snack aisle for some pretzels. The 10 oz bag of mini-pretzels was on sale for $1.19, so I reached for it, but—what’s this?—there was a larger, 15 oz bag of pretzels in the same brand for $1.00. The difference: the cheaper pretzels were shaped like the State of Texas and cowboy boots. Previously, we’ve purchased Texas-shaped tortilla chips and crackers, and I’ve also seen Texas-shaped fish sticks.
People here are very proud of their state, but it sometimes shows in funny ways. Everywhere you look, there are a million architectural and decorative variations on the outline of Texas, the “lone star” motif, and the state flag. Even in the Capitol building in Austin, the granite floor has Texas-shaped inlays throughout. I've never seen another state so obsessed with its shape. But why am I surprised? Every morning at school, my son recites first the federal Pledge of Allegiance and then the Texas Pledge of Allegiance. Do any other states have their own pledge?
Hmm, this talk of food has made me hungry. Anyone up for a Maryland-shaped sandwich?
People here are very proud of their state, but it sometimes shows in funny ways. Everywhere you look, there are a million architectural and decorative variations on the outline of Texas, the “lone star” motif, and the state flag. Even in the Capitol building in Austin, the granite floor has Texas-shaped inlays throughout. I've never seen another state so obsessed with its shape. But why am I surprised? Every morning at school, my son recites first the federal Pledge of Allegiance and then the Texas Pledge of Allegiance. Do any other states have their own pledge?
Hmm, this talk of food has made me hungry. Anyone up for a Maryland-shaped sandwich?
Monday, April 26, 2010
Suburban warfare
The neighborhood I live in is heavily treed, and these trees support a diverse range of wildlife. We've seen opossums, raccoons, more squirrels than one could count, and many different kinds of birds. There have also been sightings reported of a fox and a coyote. But my recent nemesis is a more familiar foe: canis lupus.
For months, there has been a large, increasingly mangy, black and gray dog roaming around the neighborhood. He has a collar but appears to have been lost or abandoned. He is a scraggly beast who sniffs around houses, fouls on lawns, and feeds on garbage. Several times he has ripped into my garbage bags during the night when I've had them set out for trash pickup. It's been a hassle to clean up. We called animal control once, but they wouldn't do anything unless we had the dog in hand.
Yesterday evening, I managed to lure the dog into my fenced side yard and lock him in. Feeling sympathetic, I had my son feed him a couple of hot dogs and a drink while I tried to call animal control. In the small city I came from, this would have been simple. I would have called the police station, and within an hour, an animal control officer would have been at the home to take the dog away. In fact, just such a thing happened with a stray we caught in our last home.
Here, however, jurisdiction of services is always a crazy jumble. We don't live within the city limits of the big city, but they have extraterritorial jurisdiction over certain matters. We have utility districts, regulated and deregulated utility providers, homeowners associations, county, city, state, and private services. We signed our son up for football and swimming, which involved not a city recreational league, but a confusing hodgepoge of 501(c) organizations with different rules, signup periods, and rules. It's strange.
And so it was with animal control. It was difficult to find out online who I should even call about this dog. I eventually called the sheriff's dispatch for our part of the county and was told that I needed to call animal control. Unfortunately, the number they provided me was disconnected. I finally found what seemed to be the right number, but I got a recording telling me to call back between 9-5, M-F. I briefly considered putting the dog in the car and driving far away, then releasing him, but I worried that (1) he would run away and not get in the car, or (2) he would get scared or angry and trash my car while I was driving. So, I decided to wait until morning.
At about 1:00 am this denizen of the Baskervilles revealed his secret weapon. His bark is worse than his bite.
The dog began howling and barking incessantly. Half asleep and barely dressed, I stumbled outside and, not knowing what else to do, I opened the gate. The dog ran away, barking at me. I yelled back, trying to scare him away, weakly hoping I'd taught him a lesson.
This morning, I went outside to find my garbage bags shredded as never before. Broken glass, diaper poo, and semi-confidential papers I'd lazily not shredded were all strewn about the driveway and street. The hellhound was nowhere to be seen. I can only hope he ingested a deadly cocktail of glass and diapers, but this round goes to the dog.
For months, there has been a large, increasingly mangy, black and gray dog roaming around the neighborhood. He has a collar but appears to have been lost or abandoned. He is a scraggly beast who sniffs around houses, fouls on lawns, and feeds on garbage. Several times he has ripped into my garbage bags during the night when I've had them set out for trash pickup. It's been a hassle to clean up. We called animal control once, but they wouldn't do anything unless we had the dog in hand.
Yesterday evening, I managed to lure the dog into my fenced side yard and lock him in. Feeling sympathetic, I had my son feed him a couple of hot dogs and a drink while I tried to call animal control. In the small city I came from, this would have been simple. I would have called the police station, and within an hour, an animal control officer would have been at the home to take the dog away. In fact, just such a thing happened with a stray we caught in our last home.
Here, however, jurisdiction of services is always a crazy jumble. We don't live within the city limits of the big city, but they have extraterritorial jurisdiction over certain matters. We have utility districts, regulated and deregulated utility providers, homeowners associations, county, city, state, and private services. We signed our son up for football and swimming, which involved not a city recreational league, but a confusing hodgepoge of 501(c) organizations with different rules, signup periods, and rules. It's strange.
And so it was with animal control. It was difficult to find out online who I should even call about this dog. I eventually called the sheriff's dispatch for our part of the county and was told that I needed to call animal control. Unfortunately, the number they provided me was disconnected. I finally found what seemed to be the right number, but I got a recording telling me to call back between 9-5, M-F. I briefly considered putting the dog in the car and driving far away, then releasing him, but I worried that (1) he would run away and not get in the car, or (2) he would get scared or angry and trash my car while I was driving. So, I decided to wait until morning.
At about 1:00 am this denizen of the Baskervilles revealed his secret weapon. His bark is worse than his bite.
The dog began howling and barking incessantly. Half asleep and barely dressed, I stumbled outside and, not knowing what else to do, I opened the gate. The dog ran away, barking at me. I yelled back, trying to scare him away, weakly hoping I'd taught him a lesson.
This morning, I went outside to find my garbage bags shredded as never before. Broken glass, diaper poo, and semi-confidential papers I'd lazily not shredded were all strewn about the driveway and street. The hellhound was nowhere to be seen. I can only hope he ingested a deadly cocktail of glass and diapers, but this round goes to the dog.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Crawfish festival
On Saturday, the family went to the Texas Crawfish Festival. We had a pretty good time, though I ended up feeling like I had overpaid. This primarily stems from the fact that you have to pay for parking and entrance fees for what amounts to the opportunity to spend more money. Those in the know: think Art City Days carnival where you have to pay to get in.
The kids had fun riding the rides for the most part. J and S jumped on one of those trampoline-harness things and rode a couple of other rides. L was most excited about the kiddie roller coaster, but that didn't go as well. R seemed nervous and was happy to get out when the ride was done, but L started screaming on the first drop and pretty much escalated her screaming with each lap for the rest of the ride. She rode a similar ride last year at Art City Days, so I'm not sure why she was so scared this time.
The music was...okay. The rock bands weren't that great, or we weren't in the mood, and we don't much like country music, but we heard a pretty good set on the zydeco stage. Zydeco is not music I'd want to listen to every days, but it is pretty fun to listen to live for a little while. Our favorite song was a catchy tune where the only lyrics were repetitions of, "I want my money. You stole my money. Bring back my money." Only, I swear it sounded like he was saying monkey instead of money, so we all had a good laugh at that.
The crawfish was good. The older kids ate a few and J seemed to like it quite a bit. L and R tasted it but couldn't get past the weirdness of it. I liked it and thought it tasted quite a bit like lobster. Other food of the day included a funnel cake, lemonade, beef jerky, and deep fried: alligator (tasted okay but very tough), Snickers bar (good as a novelty but surely against the Word of Wisdom), and Nutter Butter cookies (same).
Yesterday, Hollie made buckwheat pancakes in a futile attempt, in her words, "to scrub out our insides."
Perhaps the most fun part of the day was a presentation by a guy who has an alligator theme park and TV show called Gator 911. He had a couple of caymans and a 6 month-old American crocodile, which is endangered, and which S got to hold as an audience volunteer. J also got to volunteer as one of several people to help hold a ~15-foot albino Burmese python. It was a big, beautiful snake.
I ended the evening by taking J to see Avatar. It was well-made and well-enough acted, but I didn't particularly care for the plot. It was too predictable and anti-corporate. J declared it the best movie he's ever seen, but I thought it was a bit too coarse for him.
On the ride to the theater, I tried to follow Elder Ballard's advice from last general conference and ask Joseph how he was doing. I asked him if he said his prayers each night, and he dutifully responded, "Yes, I pray every night except for the days when I don't have anything to repent of!" Setting aside the question of whether he has sinless days--his sisters would surely argue not--I talked to him for a few minutes about different purposes of prayer and encouraged him to pray each day and to occasionally offer a prayer with nothing but thanks.
The kids had fun riding the rides for the most part. J and S jumped on one of those trampoline-harness things and rode a couple of other rides. L was most excited about the kiddie roller coaster, but that didn't go as well. R seemed nervous and was happy to get out when the ride was done, but L started screaming on the first drop and pretty much escalated her screaming with each lap for the rest of the ride. She rode a similar ride last year at Art City Days, so I'm not sure why she was so scared this time.
The music was...okay. The rock bands weren't that great, or we weren't in the mood, and we don't much like country music, but we heard a pretty good set on the zydeco stage. Zydeco is not music I'd want to listen to every days, but it is pretty fun to listen to live for a little while. Our favorite song was a catchy tune where the only lyrics were repetitions of, "I want my money. You stole my money. Bring back my money." Only, I swear it sounded like he was saying monkey instead of money, so we all had a good laugh at that.
The crawfish was good. The older kids ate a few and J seemed to like it quite a bit. L and R tasted it but couldn't get past the weirdness of it. I liked it and thought it tasted quite a bit like lobster. Other food of the day included a funnel cake, lemonade, beef jerky, and deep fried: alligator (tasted okay but very tough), Snickers bar (good as a novelty but surely against the Word of Wisdom), and Nutter Butter cookies (same).
Yesterday, Hollie made buckwheat pancakes in a futile attempt, in her words, "to scrub out our insides."
Perhaps the most fun part of the day was a presentation by a guy who has an alligator theme park and TV show called Gator 911. He had a couple of caymans and a 6 month-old American crocodile, which is endangered, and which S got to hold as an audience volunteer. J also got to volunteer as one of several people to help hold a ~15-foot albino Burmese python. It was a big, beautiful snake.
I ended the evening by taking J to see Avatar. It was well-made and well-enough acted, but I didn't particularly care for the plot. It was too predictable and anti-corporate. J declared it the best movie he's ever seen, but I thought it was a bit too coarse for him.
On the ride to the theater, I tried to follow Elder Ballard's advice from last general conference and ask Joseph how he was doing. I asked him if he said his prayers each night, and he dutifully responded, "Yes, I pray every night except for the days when I don't have anything to repent of!" Setting aside the question of whether he has sinless days--his sisters would surely argue not--I talked to him for a few minutes about different purposes of prayer and encouraged him to pray each day and to occasionally offer a prayer with nothing but thanks.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Comparative religion training
This morning, H and I were lying in bed, trying to sleep in, when three of our kids walked in. Our five-year-old asked, "Who'se the Dommy Lama?" We tried to explain to her and her brother a bit about who the Dalai Lama is and what he supports. I'm trying to figure how much they learned based on this exchange that happened right afterward.
L: Are you the Dalai Lama?
J: I'm not the Dalai Lama, I'm just a llama.
L
L: I'm looking for the Dalai Lama.
J: I'm not the Dalai Lama, I'm Donny Osmond.
R: Dobby wama, dobby wama.
L: Are you the Dalai Lama?
J:
L
L: I'm looking for the Dalai Lama.
J: I'm not the Dalai Lama, I'm Donny Osmond.
R:
Friday, April 16, 2010
Down and Derby
Dang, I just typed a very long post that got deleted.
We had our Cub Scout pinewood derby race last night. (For the uninitiated, pinewood derby is a competition where boys (or is it dads?) create gravity-powered racecars from a kit and race them down a wooden track. I am not mechanically inclined, and it was my first time to build one since I was a kid. Also, J and I were up against several engineers, so we were just hoping to finish middle of the pack.
Most of the boys had produced great cars. There was a "hook-'em-Horns" mobile, a Duracell battery, and an engineer-designed car with a u-shaped space and a paper clip on the front, designed to allow the car to start rolling slightly before the other cars as the starting gate is lowered. J's car was very nice, too. His mom had helped cut out the block and paint some multicolor flames, and J and I had gotten a metal driver, car, windshield, and roll bar for the cockpit. Aesthetically, it was the best car there. One poor boy, however, showed up for weigh-in the night before with a car that was clearly not a contender.
His dad has a PhD in engineering, but he hadn't helped his son build a car. Instead, his visiting grandfather* had helped him with it. Whether this was because his wife just had a baby or because he is Scottish and didn't understand how seriously we Americans take our model car racing or some other reason, I can't say, but this car was ugly and not well-built. Sometimes, ugly cars do well, but this one had a wheel on backwards, and an uncarved block, and was twice the legal weight. Most of the weight was in removable magnets, but I still found myself drilling dozens of holes in the car with grandpa at 10:30 the night before the race to get the car under the allowable weight.
I'm happy to say that our J's car performed great. In the preliminary round, his car was the fastest, taking first place five times and second place once on a three-lane track. In the final round, the three finalists kids raced on all three lanes. J had one slow race, so it came down to the final run. J finished second by an inch to an ugly-but-awesome racer, but handily beat the paper-clip jumper. We were both happy with his performance, and he also won the Best of Show award for the nicest-looking car, which made him pretty happy.
All of the boys seemed to have a good time, even the boy with the slow car that took last in every race. I'm glad he's a good-natured kid, because my son (or I) would likely have been crying in that situation. He was content with his Most Fuel Efficient award. Still, I noticed his father taking a keen interest and photographing all of the other cars "to get ideas for next year." Welcome to the American car culture, Brother M___.
* Incidentally, the grandfather's wife was once a nurse for the doctor who was my bishop as a teenager. He was a kind and generous man, and he had one son who later served as my bishop, and another who delivered my oldest child and oldest niece. Sadly, he died quite suddenly of a brain tumor after a brief illness.
We had our Cub Scout pinewood derby race last night. (For the uninitiated, pinewood derby is a competition where boys (or is it dads?) create gravity-powered racecars from a kit and race them down a wooden track. I am not mechanically inclined, and it was my first time to build one since I was a kid. Also, J and I were up against several engineers, so we were just hoping to finish middle of the pack.
Most of the boys had produced great cars. There was a "hook-'em-Horns" mobile, a Duracell battery, and an engineer-designed car with a u-shaped space and a paper clip on the front, designed to allow the car to start rolling slightly before the other cars as the starting gate is lowered. J's car was very nice, too. His mom had helped cut out the block and paint some multicolor flames, and J and I had gotten a metal driver, car, windshield, and roll bar for the cockpit. Aesthetically, it was the best car there. One poor boy, however, showed up for weigh-in the night before with a car that was clearly not a contender.
His dad has a PhD in engineering, but he hadn't helped his son build a car. Instead, his visiting grandfather* had helped him with it. Whether this was because his wife just had a baby or because he is Scottish and didn't understand how seriously we Americans take our model car racing or some other reason, I can't say, but this car was ugly and not well-built. Sometimes, ugly cars do well, but this one had a wheel on backwards, and an uncarved block, and was twice the legal weight. Most of the weight was in removable magnets, but I still found myself drilling dozens of holes in the car with grandpa at 10:30 the night before the race to get the car under the allowable weight.
I'm happy to say that our J's car performed great. In the preliminary round, his car was the fastest, taking first place five times and second place once on a three-lane track. In the final round, the three finalists kids raced on all three lanes. J had one slow race, so it came down to the final run. J finished second by an inch to an ugly-but-awesome racer, but handily beat the paper-clip jumper. We were both happy with his performance, and he also won the Best of Show award for the nicest-looking car, which made him pretty happy.
All of the boys seemed to have a good time, even the boy with the slow car that took last in every race. I'm glad he's a good-natured kid, because my son (or I) would likely have been crying in that situation. He was content with his Most Fuel Efficient award. Still, I noticed his father taking a keen interest and photographing all of the other cars "to get ideas for next year." Welcome to the American car culture, Brother M___.
* Incidentally, the grandfather's wife was once a nurse for the doctor who was my bishop as a teenager. He was a kind and generous man, and he had one son who later served as my bishop, and another who delivered my oldest child and oldest niece. Sadly, he died quite suddenly of a brain tumor after a brief illness.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Degrees of separation
I'm continually surprised by the common connections I find in life. Sites like Facebook and LinkedIn exploit this, of course. Several times I've been surprised to find common acquaintances through those sites. I think maintaining a presence on LinkedIn is important both to stay in touch with contacts and to discover some of those hidden connections.
Within tight-knit communities like the LDS church, such connections seem to be even more common. We've found several unknown connections since we've moved here, which is surprising given that I had virtually no ties to Texas and my wife's Texas relatives are all non-LDS. Just last night, we went to pick up the pinewood derby track from a member of the next ward over and found out that their son played in the Utah Premiere Brass with my wife. A few weeks ago, it was discovering that a guy I home teach was childhood buddies with a friend H and I had when we lived in Chile. Another family in the ward is longtime friends with a close colleague from my last job. A lawyer down the hall serves in a bishopric with a guy I went to law school with. And there are several more. Discovering such connections makes long moves easier. As the Apostle Paul said, when you join the Church,"Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the houshold of God." And Facebook friends, to boot.
Within tight-knit communities like the LDS church, such connections seem to be even more common. We've found several unknown connections since we've moved here, which is surprising given that I had virtually no ties to Texas and my wife's Texas relatives are all non-LDS. Just last night, we went to pick up the pinewood derby track from a member of the next ward over and found out that their son played in the Utah Premiere Brass with my wife. A few weeks ago, it was discovering that a guy I home teach was childhood buddies with a friend H and I had when we lived in Chile. Another family in the ward is longtime friends with a close colleague from my last job. A lawyer down the hall serves in a bishopric with a guy I went to law school with. And there are several more. Discovering such connections makes long moves easier. As the Apostle Paul said, when you join the Church,"Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the houshold of God." And Facebook friends, to boot.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Pinewood derby week
It's pinewood derby week for my son and me. This is the first time I've built a car since I was a kid. J and I have been working on it for a while, but we have to attach the wheels tonight, which is the big test. We'll see how it turns out.
Also, since I'm the cubmaster, I've got to pick up the track tonight, conduct weigh-in tomorrow, and run the derby at the church on Thursday night. It should make for an interesting few days. I really hope I don't have to disqualify any of the boys. I've already sent out the rules, so hopefully the boys with engineer dads are following them.
I don't expect to win, but I hope to finish in the middle of the pack for my son's sake. He's bought into the idea that there are awards not just for the fastest but also for best design, etc., which is fine with me, since I don't think I have the skill to build winners like my dad did with my brother and me. I remember when I was a kid, winning was everything. I could have happily raced a turd if it was faster than anything else out there. It's probably a good thing that J isn't quite as hypercompetitive as I am. Okay, maybe it's not entirely "for my son's sake" that I hope to have a good race. But, as the cubmaster, I have to act like I'm a neutral official when I race the cars. "Smoke 'em, my boy!"
Also, since I'm the cubmaster, I've got to pick up the track tonight, conduct weigh-in tomorrow, and run the derby at the church on Thursday night. It should make for an interesting few days. I really hope I don't have to disqualify any of the boys. I've already sent out the rules, so hopefully the boys with engineer dads are following them.
I don't expect to win, but I hope to finish in the middle of the pack for my son's sake. He's bought into the idea that there are awards not just for the fastest but also for best design, etc., which is fine with me, since I don't think I have the skill to build winners like my dad did with my brother and me. I remember when I was a kid, winning was everything. I could have happily raced a turd if it was faster than anything else out there. It's probably a good thing that J isn't quite as hypercompetitive as I am. Okay, maybe it's not entirely "for my son's sake" that I hope to have a good race. But, as the cubmaster, I have to act like I'm a neutral official when I race the cars. "Smoke 'em, my boy!"
Monday, April 12, 2010
Speaking assignment
H and I spoke in church yesterday (copy of talks available on request). Our kids sat with some friends and seemed to be much better behaved than normal. I asked the parents if our kids could sit with their family every week from now on. Apparently, R ate H's entire tin of breath mints in the process, but I'll bring a tin every week if it will buy us peace in the pews.
Our topic was the atonement of Jesus Christ. It is a weighty topic, and we felt quite a responsibility, given that pretty much everything else we believe rests upon it. The talks seemed to go over well, though. I'll send a copy if anyone is interested. Here's the short version:
Darkness gathered all around
Blood spilt freely on the ground
Agony without a sound
None beside Him ever found.
In the garden freely stayed
‘Till the awful price was paid
Charges false before him laid
Gentle kiss by friends betrayed.
Crowned with thorns while fools deride
Cruel-cross-nailed ‘twixt thieves each side
Heavens silent while he cried,
“Abba, Father,” crucified.
Grave clothes folded off the floor
Burst through tomb’s foreboding door
Alpha of the world before
God of Israel lives once more!
Our topic was the atonement of Jesus Christ. It is a weighty topic, and we felt quite a responsibility, given that pretty much everything else we believe rests upon it. The talks seemed to go over well, though. I'll send a copy if anyone is interested. Here's the short version:
Darkness gathered all around
Blood spilt freely on the ground
Agony without a sound
None beside Him ever found.
In the garden freely stayed
‘Till the awful price was paid
Charges false before him laid
Gentle kiss by friends betrayed.
Crowned with thorns while fools deride
Cruel-cross-nailed ‘twixt thieves each side
Heavens silent while he cried,
“Abba, Father,” crucified.
Grave clothes folded off the floor
Burst through tomb’s foreboding door
Alpha of the world before
God of Israel lives once more!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Bluebonnets
I forgot to take my camera with me yesterday, so there will be no pictures to remember our first Texas festival, which is a shame, but we had a good time at the Texas Bluebonnet Festial.
This was our first time heading very far west from our home. We live at the edge of the great piney woods, as they are called, which is a band of southern pines that stretches across much of the South and ends in east Texas. To the south is the Gulf, to the north the plains, and to the west, the terrain gradually builds to the Texas hill country. In our Texas guide book, our home is actually near the edge of four different regions of Texas, including the mission / San Antonio region.
Anyway, as we headed away from the city, we quickly left the city behind and entered big sky country, as they say. The ground is so flat that the horizon stretches far away. Presently, we began to see patches of wildflowers by the side of the highway, a few bluebonnets or Indian paintbrushes at first, then gradually, more and more color. While we didn't really go far enough to be in the hill country, we did eventually get some contour to the land. Some rises would surprise us with a solid patch of yellow for 50 acres, while other areas looked almost like a rainbow, with red, pink, purple, yellow, and blue flowers all clustered together.
Chappell Hill itself is a small town in Washington County, a pleasant county of ranches and quaint small towns. The main street is several blocks of late 19th and early 20th century buildings clustered close together, with an old whitewashed Baptist church and a bank building that dates to 1878. It is still in operation, but it looks like a set from an old Western, and I kept expecting to see someone crash through the doors, six-shooter blazing.
The festival itself had many thousands of attendants. There was food of all kinds, including foot-long corn dogs and deep-fried pickles, Oreos, and PBJs, depending on one's fancy. We opted for corn dogs, strawberry lemonade, and sausage on a stick, but we didn't want to fill up too much before our planned dinner. We enjoyed the craft booths and wandering the town looking at the "real cowboys" a wide-eyed L pointed out here and there. On the way out of town, we headed into the "hills" and saw some truly spectacular displays of wildflower color. The many people stopped taking pictures made me sad we'd forgotten our camera, but you can Google "Texas wildflowers" and see what I'm talking about.
For dinner, we stopped at Goodson's Cafe in Tomball. Goodson's is a well-known institution that has been featured on at least two Travel Channel shows, so we were excited to give it a try. It did not disappoint. The enormous chicken fried steak is the signature dish, and for about $10, H and I split one that was big enough fill us both up and then some. The steak was larger than the plate and came with plenty of sides and bread. I was so full I had to pass on the peach cobbler. Some kids had excellent fried shrimp, while another had a pot roast with succulent meat and melt-in-your-mouth carrots. The atmosphere was fun, the food was good, and it was very family-friendly. It's not exactly health food, so I can't say we'll be back often, but if you've got a hankerin' for a huge, crispy chicken fried steak, this is the place to go.
Up this weekend: the crawfish festival and the sounds of the washboard and accordion that typify zydeco music. Looks like we'll be eating our way through the month of April in style. Y'all come join us before the heat and humidity get too oppressive.
This was our first time heading very far west from our home. We live at the edge of the great piney woods, as they are called, which is a band of southern pines that stretches across much of the South and ends in east Texas. To the south is the Gulf, to the north the plains, and to the west, the terrain gradually builds to the Texas hill country. In our Texas guide book, our home is actually near the edge of four different regions of Texas, including the mission / San Antonio region.
Anyway, as we headed away from the city, we quickly left the city behind and entered big sky country, as they say. The ground is so flat that the horizon stretches far away. Presently, we began to see patches of wildflowers by the side of the highway, a few bluebonnets or Indian paintbrushes at first, then gradually, more and more color. While we didn't really go far enough to be in the hill country, we did eventually get some contour to the land. Some rises would surprise us with a solid patch of yellow for 50 acres, while other areas looked almost like a rainbow, with red, pink, purple, yellow, and blue flowers all clustered together.
Chappell Hill itself is a small town in Washington County, a pleasant county of ranches and quaint small towns. The main street is several blocks of late 19th and early 20th century buildings clustered close together, with an old whitewashed Baptist church and a bank building that dates to 1878. It is still in operation, but it looks like a set from an old Western, and I kept expecting to see someone crash through the doors, six-shooter blazing.
The festival itself had many thousands of attendants. There was food of all kinds, including foot-long corn dogs and deep-fried pickles, Oreos, and PBJs, depending on one's fancy. We opted for corn dogs, strawberry lemonade, and sausage on a stick, but we didn't want to fill up too much before our planned dinner. We enjoyed the craft booths and wandering the town looking at the "real cowboys" a wide-eyed L pointed out here and there. On the way out of town, we headed into the "hills" and saw some truly spectacular displays of wildflower color. The many people stopped taking pictures made me sad we'd forgotten our camera, but you can Google "Texas wildflowers" and see what I'm talking about.
For dinner, we stopped at Goodson's Cafe in Tomball. Goodson's is a well-known institution that has been featured on at least two Travel Channel shows, so we were excited to give it a try. It did not disappoint. The enormous chicken fried steak is the signature dish, and for about $10, H and I split one that was big enough fill us both up and then some. The steak was larger than the plate and came with plenty of sides and bread. I was so full I had to pass on the peach cobbler. Some kids had excellent fried shrimp, while another had a pot roast with succulent meat and melt-in-your-mouth carrots. The atmosphere was fun, the food was good, and it was very family-friendly. It's not exactly health food, so I can't say we'll be back often, but if you've got a hankerin' for a huge, crispy chicken fried steak, this is the place to go.
Up this weekend: the crawfish festival and the sounds of the washboard and accordion that typify zydeco music. Looks like we'll be eating our way through the month of April in style. Y'all come join us before the heat and humidity get too oppressive.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Festival season
As I alluded to in my last post, we're hoping to go to a bluebonnet festival this weekend (assuming our daughter's girl's camp shakedown trip and kids sport registrations don't derail our plans). For those not in the know, the bluebonnet is the official flower of Texas. At this time of year, the Texas hill country is covered in wildflowers. We're not quite going as far as the hill country, as I understand the topography, but we'll get into the bluebonnets and indian paintbrush.
The hardest part about festivals in the springtime here is deciding which one to attend. Last weekend was Easter for us, but there were several festivals going on as well. This weekend, we've had to pass on the Bayou festival, the German festival, and an outdoor art festival, as well as the opening of the Texas Crawfish and Music Festival. Luckily, the last one will be going on next weekend as well, but that means we may have to pass on the International Festival. And this list is not comprehensive. Every weekend of spring, we have several festivals within an hour or two of home, so there will be as many festivals as we've got energy for until the heat gets too stifling and the festivals end until the fall, when we can sample the harvest and holiday festivals. Here's to tasty food, kitchy crafts, and live music.
The hardest part about festivals in the springtime here is deciding which one to attend. Last weekend was Easter for us, but there were several festivals going on as well. This weekend, we've had to pass on the Bayou festival, the German festival, and an outdoor art festival, as well as the opening of the Texas Crawfish and Music Festival. Luckily, the last one will be going on next weekend as well, but that means we may have to pass on the International Festival. And this list is not comprehensive. Every weekend of spring, we have several festivals within an hour or two of home, so there will be as many festivals as we've got energy for until the heat gets too stifling and the festivals end until the fall, when we can sample the harvest and holiday festivals. Here's to tasty food, kitchy crafts, and live music.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Home, but not on the range
I’ll try to fill in a little detail on life in Texas, piece by piece, starting with my neighborhood.
A friend and I used to talk about the vision of the neighborhood where we wanted to live. No, not the one where we had a commune and ate meals together and shared a boat and snowmobiles with the other commune members. The other one, with the happy, racially diverse doctors, lawyers, and professors living side by side like a Jehovah's Witness tract.
That's kind of like my neighborhood. Across the street is a Hispanic sales executive and his Caucasian wife, on the other side is a Vietnamese family doctor and nurse, and next door on either side are a Caucasian cardiologist and internist and a small business owner. Down the street a few houses is my son’s friend, whose dad is an oil engineer from Australia and whose mom is a Realtor from Nigeria.
The neighborhood overall probably isn't quite that diverse, but it is still a pleasant surprise, since ethnic communities tend to congregate together even when they are well-off. It makes for a nice neighborhood, and we have lots of good medical care readily available, to boot. Many of our neighbors are older folks who built their homes here 25 years ago and are still here, but they are large homes, so they've started recycling as people downsize.
The elementary school is right behind our house, so the kids can walk without taking a street. That’s nice, because one drawback of living here is that many neighborhoods, including ours, don’t have sidewalks. The school is racially mixed, but I'm not aware of any racial overtones or problems they’ve had. The academic standards are high, and the teachers are demanding—sometimes too demanding, I think
Another related benefit of living in a city with immigrants from the world over is there are tons of great ethnic restaurants here: Mexican, Vietnamese, Indian, Cajun, and bbq are probably the strongest offerings, but you can easily find most any kind of food, and we live in the relatively white suburbs, some distance away from the city center. Since H and I like trying new foods, including every one of the cuisines I mentioned above, we are never short of a place to eat. Of course, we are at the crossroads of the Southwest, Midwest, and South, which explains the tacos al pastor, beef brisket, and Gulf shrimp, but there are other influences, like the large Vietnamese population that immigrated in the 1970’s. Above all, the oil business brings in professional-level employees from all over the world, and businesses are happy to give them a slice of home with everything from halal meat markets to French cafés to Asian grocery stores (all examples I pass on my daily commute). I look forward to exploring more of these places as we get to know our community better.
Up this weekend, though, is a slice of traditional Texas: we plan to attend the official Texas Bluebonnet Festival this weekend in a small town near where Texans declared their independence from Mexico. It sits between Houston, Austin, and Dallas and seems as authentic Texan as you could wish. Except that I'm quckly discovering, in a state of this size and diversity, authentic Texan means something different depending on who you ask.
A friend and I used to talk about the vision of the neighborhood where we wanted to live. No, not the one where we had a commune and ate meals together and shared a boat and snowmobiles with the other commune members. The other one, with the happy, racially diverse doctors, lawyers, and professors living side by side like a Jehovah's Witness tract.
That's kind of like my neighborhood. Across the street is a Hispanic sales executive and his Caucasian wife, on the other side is a Vietnamese family doctor and nurse, and next door on either side are a Caucasian cardiologist and internist and a small business owner. Down the street a few houses is my son’s friend, whose dad is an oil engineer from Australia and whose mom is a Realtor from Nigeria.
The neighborhood overall probably isn't quite that diverse, but it is still a pleasant surprise, since ethnic communities tend to congregate together even when they are well-off. It makes for a nice neighborhood, and we have lots of good medical care readily available, to boot. Many of our neighbors are older folks who built their homes here 25 years ago and are still here, but they are large homes, so they've started recycling as people downsize.
The elementary school is right behind our house, so the kids can walk without taking a street. That’s nice, because one drawback of living here is that many neighborhoods, including ours, don’t have sidewalks. The school is racially mixed, but I'm not aware of any racial overtones or problems they’ve had. The academic standards are high, and the teachers are demanding—sometimes too demanding, I think
Another related benefit of living in a city with immigrants from the world over is there are tons of great ethnic restaurants here: Mexican, Vietnamese, Indian, Cajun, and bbq are probably the strongest offerings, but you can easily find most any kind of food, and we live in the relatively white suburbs, some distance away from the city center. Since H and I like trying new foods, including every one of the cuisines I mentioned above, we are never short of a place to eat. Of course, we are at the crossroads of the Southwest, Midwest, and South, which explains the tacos al pastor, beef brisket, and Gulf shrimp, but there are other influences, like the large Vietnamese population that immigrated in the 1970’s. Above all, the oil business brings in professional-level employees from all over the world, and businesses are happy to give them a slice of home with everything from halal meat markets to French cafés to Asian grocery stores (all examples I pass on my daily commute). I look forward to exploring more of these places as we get to know our community better.
Up this weekend, though, is a slice of traditional Texas: we plan to attend the official Texas Bluebonnet Festival this weekend in a small town near where Texans declared their independence from Mexico. It sits between Houston, Austin, and Dallas and seems as authentic Texan as you could wish. Except that I'm quckly discovering, in a state of this size and diversity, authentic Texan means something different depending on who you ask.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Easter
I'm used to having Easter with family, but that option wasn't available to us this year, so we were on our own. The law department closed down at 2:00 on Friday afternoon, so I was able to start the weekend a bit early. Since it was LDS General Conference last weekend and since H and I are speaking in church this weekend, I thought it would be good to use that extra time to go to the temple. Despite living so close, I'm sad to say I hadn't yet been inside the temple since we moved here just before the start of the new year. It is a nice place, despite being much smaller to the temples I'm used to attending, and it is very convenient to my home, being less than ten minutes away.
On Saturday, we packed a lot into one day. It was our turn to clean the chapel, so we were there first thing in the morning. Fortunately, several other assigned families showed up, so it went quickly. From there, it was to the community association easter egg hunt a few blocks from our house. The kids had fun, though R was at first happy to pick up one egg and bring it back to us before we encouraged him to pick up a few more, and quickly, before the other 100 kids under 6 picked the designated area clean. L, too, enjoyed being with her neighbor friend as much as actually picking up eggs, but the older two were just after the candy.
We raced home from the event early just as the first speaker stood up for general conference, so that occupied much of the rest of the day. Between sessions, I was working on sprinklers while H worked in the yard, S went to a birthday party, and the other kids played in the pool. In the evening, it was off to priesthood for me while H made homemade mac and cheese for the following day's meal.
On Sunday, we slept in a little, then did our own egg hunt around the house with the kids before the second day of conference. Between sessions, we went to eat at the home of some friends from church. We had a nice bbq meal, with cheeseburgers and dogs, (mashed) potato salad, mac and cheese, which H had made with seven varieties of cheese, a relish tray, and double chocolate cake from our favorite Mexican bakery down the street. (Not as good as their tres leches, but still excellent). The weather was outstanding, so the kids jumped on the trampoline and otherwise enjoyed the sun. We then watched the final session of conference, visited for a while, then returned home to take a walk around the neighborhood before bedtime. All in all, a good weekend, an excellent conference with many interesting and useful sermons preached, and time to reflect on the gift of the Savior to a world that needs the divine now more than ever. The kids had no school Friday and are off again today, so it's a long weekend for them. I'm back at work, but luckily my workload is lighter than usual this morning, so I'm trying to post something.
On Saturday, we packed a lot into one day. It was our turn to clean the chapel, so we were there first thing in the morning. Fortunately, several other assigned families showed up, so it went quickly. From there, it was to the community association easter egg hunt a few blocks from our house. The kids had fun, though R was at first happy to pick up one egg and bring it back to us before we encouraged him to pick up a few more, and quickly, before the other 100 kids under 6 picked the designated area clean. L, too, enjoyed being with her neighbor friend as much as actually picking up eggs, but the older two were just after the candy.
We raced home from the event early just as the first speaker stood up for general conference, so that occupied much of the rest of the day. Between sessions, I was working on sprinklers while H worked in the yard, S went to a birthday party, and the other kids played in the pool. In the evening, it was off to priesthood for me while H made homemade mac and cheese for the following day's meal.
On Sunday, we slept in a little, then did our own egg hunt around the house with the kids before the second day of conference. Between sessions, we went to eat at the home of some friends from church. We had a nice bbq meal, with cheeseburgers and dogs, (mashed) potato salad, mac and cheese, which H had made with seven varieties of cheese, a relish tray, and double chocolate cake from our favorite Mexican bakery down the street. (Not as good as their tres leches, but still excellent). The weather was outstanding, so the kids jumped on the trampoline and otherwise enjoyed the sun. We then watched the final session of conference, visited for a while, then returned home to take a walk around the neighborhood before bedtime. All in all, a good weekend, an excellent conference with many interesting and useful sermons preached, and time to reflect on the gift of the Savior to a world that needs the divine now more than ever. The kids had no school Friday and are off again today, so it's a long weekend for them. I'm back at work, but luckily my workload is lighter than usual this morning, so I'm trying to post something.
Restart
Well, it's been a long time since I posted anything to this blog. As my brother noted, Facebook is kind of a blog-killing device. Of course, I haven't been using FB much lately, either. Mostly, I've been too busy settling into life in Houston to blog much. It's also a case of wondering where to start with so much I could write about. So, perhaps I'll just start by saying I'm going to try to blog again and see if I can bring this blog back from the dead.
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