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.
Friday, April 30, 2010
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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