Entry #12

Entry #12

Tuesday, September 27

I returned to sweaty yoga class for the second time, hoping that I might be slightly less stiff and awkward than at my first class. Slight improvement, but I still have a long way to go. If only I didn’t have the spine of a septuagenarian...

I found out that a teacher at the Bikram studio also teaches at the kids’ school. I introduced myself to him and he said he couldn’t believe how flexible Noah was (and that he’s only 13). Noah’s been able to basically wrap his feet around his head since he was an infant, so it’s no surprise that yoga is something that comes naturally to him. I just don’t want him to overstretch his already loose ligaments. He’s a complete pretzel.

Before class, I parked next to a bright red car with an Ichthys (Jesus fish) symbol with the word “evolve” printed in the middle. In Berkeley, I wouldn’t think twice about seeing something like this. However, in The Woodlands, this is a rather bold statement.

While Aidan stayed in study hall to get some extra work done, Noah and I went to the Brooklyn Café (bagel place) to get Noah a snack. We were told that if we waited just five minutes, bagels would be ¢.25 each (instead of a dollar) or a dozen for $2.50. What a bargain! It’s not like they’re even day-old. The store simply closes at four o’clock, so they try to clear their bagel stock by practically giving it away.  

While eating his neon-colored strawberry bagel, Noah told me that a classmate talked about “Perry for the win!” at lunch. His classmates said that (with one exception) all their parents voted for McCain in the last election. He was flabbergasted.

Noah has told me that kids in his classes, both in and outside of school, have interests that basically range from shoot-em-up video games, football and dove hunting. He says that kids are friendly enough; he just can’t relate to them.

Wednesday, September 28

After dropping off the kids, David and I took Izzie for a hike. We ran into a woman with three dogs who warned us that there was a Copperhead next to the bench just down the path. I happened to bring my camera today on the off-chance that I might see an armadillo, but this was definitely a first.

The snake was so still, I didn’t even see it initially. It didn’t even move when we passed it, which was relieving. I'm just glad Izzie didn't see it because she’d want to play with it. She already chased a huge lizard up a tree today.

1:30 p.m. Just found out I’m going to New Orleans this weekend after learning that my friend, Liz, is flying out there from Berkeley. Her husband is attending a trade show and she figured she’d come along for the adventure, since she's never been to New Orleans before. I told her I might be able to join her since it’s only six hours away. Well, it turns out I can (at least for one night)! I'm so excited.

I have absolutely no idea how to get there, but hopefully my GPS will lead the way. I’m actually only driving half-way solo, since our family friend, Kristin, lives in Lake Charles (which is three hours away) and agreed to drive the leg from Lake Charles to New Orleans. Knowing that I’m only driving halfway there and back makes the trip a bit less daunting.

Carpe diem.

5:30 p.m. Noticed a little girl going from door-to-door (presumably selling something for her school) while her mother waited in her still-running SUV. The mom didn’t look to see that her daughter was going into strangers’ houses, or that she was emitting greenhouse gases that contribute to global warming (not to mention the air Izzie and I breathed while walking past her idling car).

I was actually glad I didn’t happen to be home when the girl was walking door-to-door, because I assume she was selling cookie dough like all the other kids around here, and I’ve already purchased more cookie dough than I’ll ever know what to do with (at a whopping $14/batch). The local elementary school has an annual fundraiser and offers prizes (including a Hummer limo ride), so kids are motivated.

Upon coming home, our sweet ninth grade neighbor was chatting with a friend who’d just driven up in what I can only describe as a golf cart on steroids. It was built like a golf cart (albeit a very fancy one) with open seating and the basic design, but with oversize off-road wheels, an animal-pattern body (think brownish tiger) and luxe leather seating. “How fast does this thing go?” I asked. The high school boy said, “At full speed, about twenty.” It’s a far cry from a hot rod...Still, it’s apparently all the rage here, especially with all the golf courses in the area. Our neighbor hopped in and went for a joy ride (at about 10 mph). 

7:30 p.m. We had an atypical Rosh Hashanah dinner because half the family is vegetarian, but we did have the traditional round challah and apples with honey. Aidan, who’s named after my Papa Al, likes to make “toasts,” and comes by it honestly—my sentimental grandfather did the same. Aidan made a very lovely toast for a sweet New Year, with hopes that we will have good experiences here in Texas and make the most of it. I sure hope so...

Our conversation quickly digressed to the topic of “poor behavior” warnings, something that had come up at school that day. Apparently students aren’t allowed to use any profanities, including the word “sucks.” If they get four behavior warnings, they won’t be able to go on their big field trip. Just for saying “sucks”? I’m sorry, but that really sucks.

David asked if they can substitute this word for “blows.” Somehow, I don’t think so. Pissed? I don’t know. If a California surfer dude came here and said something was “bitchin’,” I think he’d get a warning, too. The word “ass” is in the bible, so perhaps one could make a sound arguement with that one...

Aidan’s classmate joked that you could, in fact, say, “You can just go to HELL—O Kitty.com!

Thursday, September 29

Happy New Year (year 5772, that is)!

While taking Izzie for a walk this morning, we passed garbage and recycling bins in front of each home in the neighborhood, which was actually quite interesting. While we admittedly had more recycling than anyone, most people do recycle here (though they don’t recycle glass, oddly enough). I noticed lots of Bud Light cans, Coca Cola cans, plastic bottles, and canned goods. There was one home that had a granola box and green tea box on top, which made me think perhaps they were not from around here.

I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone, so I didn’t really think much about the fact that I was wearing my “Got Teeth?” shirt (leftover from my nephew’s ice hockey-themed bar mitzvah), stretchy yoga knickers, and no makeup. Ergh. As Murphy’s Law would have it, I did indeed run into a woman I’d met once before, as well as a Scottish woman with whom she was chatting. Her two-year-old daughter was wearing froggy PJs, so at least I wasn’t the only one dressed like I’d just rolled out of bed. 

2:00 p.m. Services lasted from 10:00 a.m. until after 1:00 p.m. The only thing that made it go a bit faster was some welcome comic relief.

The service began with one of the congregants reciting a prayer in Hebrew with a southern accent, followed by a song led by the female cantor (singer).

The cantor had a beautiful operatic voice, only she couldn’t hit some high notes, so she’d switch to a lower octave. After listening to her sing, we realized she sounded kind of like Glinda the Good Witch while singing in the soprano range, and the Cowardly Lion (“If I were the king of the foreeeest”) when chanting in the alto range. Something about her appearance reminded us of my sister-in-law, Becca, who happens to have an incredible voice, though The Wizard of Oz never comes to mind when she sings.

When it was time to blow the shofar (ram’s horn), a young boy came out, probably around 12 years old, with a really long shofar, only he had to wait a bit before blowing the horn, so he let it rest between his legs. The boy just stood there holding this wildly long, curly horn between his thighs, making him look extremely well-endowed. Noah started laughing so hard, he couldn’t stop and continued laughing throughout the entire shofar blowing. His laughter got really out of control when a taller boy came up with a very short shofar and blew it, emitting a high-pitched, squeaky sound.

During the Haftorah part of the service, there was an older man who came up for a family aliyah and kept his arm wrapped around his granddaughter as he sang in the old-school, Sefartic style (pronouncing “oi” for “ai” and “s”s instead of “t”s...) just like my grandfather’s generation used to do. I looked at David, and his eyes were wet. He said the older man reminded him of my grandfather (second time we’ve thought of him in the past day). There is something reassuring about witnessing the warmth and presence of someone from this nearly bygone generation.

We were called up at the very end of the service to open up the ark, during which time I introduced myself subtlely to the rabbi, whom I recently learned is my cousin. David whispered, “I just can’t believe my mother-in-law babysat for you,” which made the rabbi chuckle. He announced to the congregation, “In case you were wondering why I was laughing, I just found out through some email exchanges that a new member of our congregation is my cousin and that her mother babysat for me.”

What’s really odd about this is that the rabbi looks like an “old dude,” as David put it, and my mom is only 70, so this doesn’t seem plausible. But it’s true. My parents will get to see the rabbi in just a couple weeks when they come and visit. Should be an interesting reunion of sorts.

Friday, September 30

Now that I’m in Texas, my radar is out for Rick Perry-related news items. Today’s Huffington Post relayed this tongue-in-cheek article:

6-Foot Tall Flower Planter On Sale for $4,500

"Rick stated at a Tea Party debate that he would be offended if somebody thought he could be bought for $5,000. He obviously hasn’t evaluated his worth as a gigantic planter."

Chia Pets may have gone out with the last decade, but we have a feeling you'll get a kick out of this all-too-similar Rick Perry flower planter currently for sale on eBay.

As the seller suggests, the buyer of this fine replica can "plop it in the front yard" or "head 'em up, move 'em out and circle the Capitol with Rick and his colorful locks in the back of a pickup." That is, if you have a cool $4,500 laying around.

We can't imagine anyone dropping that much money on this giant Chia Head of sorts (except maybe Perry himself). But, if you've got the cash and can make it out to Blanco, TX to pick it up, this baby can be yours.

9:00 a.m. On today’s walk with Izzie, I didn’t encounter any more Copperheads (phew!), but I did see something interesting that I’ve never seen before. A trail of ants, each holding a tiny piece of a leaf (large to them), created a beautiful mosaic of leaf bits, all piled up around their ant hill. The man who pointed this out said he’d never seen anything like it.

I looked up “Texas + Ants + Leaves” and found that there is actually a Texas Leafcutting Ant:

“Worker ants travel up to 600 ft. or more along foraging trails and dismantle foliage into leaf pieces that they carry back to the colony over their bodies...” —Field Guide to Texas Insects

 At the end of the loop trail, we crossed paths with a man and his dog, whom Izzie was very happy to see. In her excitement, Izzie jumped up. The man, who was wearing a faux cowboy hat (made of some woven material), said that I should “get a stick and tap her with it when she jumps, or on second thought, attach a toy at the end of that stick and whap her with that.” I’m not going to hit my dog with a stick or a stick disguised by a toy, so I changed the subject.

The man asked me where I was from, and I told him California. “Oh, the Land of Fruits and Nuts,” he said. He told me the only time he’d actually be there was the same day that O.J. Simpson was chased on the freeway in Los Angeles (in 1995). He added that he was from Newark, New Jersey. I refrained from saying, "Oh, the hub of crime and urban decay.”

Upon returning home, I received an Etsy email that featured a gilded antler. Who knew I’d find something so fitting for my Texas home?

Monday, October 3

I’m still floating from my extraordinary weekend adventure to New Orleans. Drove (white-knuckled) from here to Lake Charles on Friday, where our family friend, Kristin Broussard, lives. Slept overnight at her lovely apartment, then together we drove to New Orleans Saturday morning.

Having never been in Lousiana before, I was fascinated by the swampland there. I’ve never seen trees growing up from the water before. Hopefully I’ll have a chance to go boating along one of the many canals when we next visit. I’m told there are lots of alligators around, though I didn’t spot one while driving. (There were piles of alligator heads for sale, though, once we reached New Orleans, as well as “alligator on a stick,” sausage-style.)

One sight we did see en route was what it means to be a LSU fan. We were driving through Baton Rouge (home to Lousiana State University) about an hour before the football game, and traffic was backed up for miles with cars decorated with purple and yellow flags and stickers, and people dressed in those colors. Kristin said that even if we had driven through the town at 8:00 a.m., there would still be bumper-to-bumper traffic because people like to tailgait hours before the game. I have never seen such hard-core football fans, especially at college level. It’s intense.

We got to New Orleans in good time, and met up with Liz at Le Pavillion, a stately hotel near the French Quarter. It’s decorated with an ornate, Baroque-style interior, with lots of crystal chandeliers, chintz fabrics and tassels. Every afternoon they serve hot chocolate and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. (The story behind this tradition is explained on their web site.) The best thing about this hotel is the rooftop pool—it’s as warm as a bathtub and surrounded by Grecian sculptures.

New Orleans seems like it’s at once an energized city and laid back village, with incredible live music and dancing, charming Creole architecture, great food, and friendly folk. Just walking around the French Quarter and Market was entertaining—so much to see there.

 We lucked into attending Art for Art’s Sake, an open art gallery/museum celebration that lasted until 10 p.m., after which time we went to dinner with Liz, Ward, a well-known jeweler friend of his and his girlfriend. We actually ended up eating dinner at midnight, but according to Kristin, this is par for the course in Louisiana, where the town gets going in the wee hours of the night. I tried a fish called Amberjack which was really tasty. Wasn’t brave enough to have the special, though—a whole “red fish,” head and all, which Ward really enjoyed. Liz had fried soft-shell crab, another local specialty.

I’m really not an adventurous enough to reap the full benefits of Creole/Cajun cuisine, which specializes in foods like étouffee, which contain crawfish. Kristin, who’s family history spans many generations in Louisiana (French Cajun), loves crawfish and told me how to eat them. She said you simply snap off its head, squeeze the meat out and pop it in your mouth. (She also told me that crawfish are also known as “mud bugs.”)

Finding vegetarian fare in New Orleans is a bit challenging. A popular sandwich called a muffaletta is piled with lots of pork, both ham and salami, as well as cheese and chopped olives. Even the red beans and rice come with pork sausages and are cooked with a pork bone. There’s plenty of great fish, though, so I was happy.

I found out via Kristin that another commonly eated food in Louisiana is dove. I know people eat quail and even pigeon (squab), but I’ve never heard of people chowing down on the symbol of peace.

Kristin said she’s enjoyed dove at many holiday dinners. Biting into BBs is common,  since it’s hard to get them all out. Common protocol is to simply spit the small metal bullet out on your plate. Brings a whole new meaning to the term “spitting bullets.”

Before heading back on Sunday, we drove around the Garden District, which is absolutely beautiful. We went to a breakfast place that had the best grits I’ve ever tasted and great biscuits, too.

 I didn’t know what to bring the kids as a memento of the journey. Many items for sale weren’t things they would really appreciate: Mardi Gras masks, alligator heads, Cajun spices, cheesy t-shirts. I decided I would bring back something they couldn’t get at home—fresh beignets from Café du Monde. I warmed them up, covered them with a cloud of powdered sugar, and served them for dessert. The kids loved them. Now they really want to visit New Orleans.

5:45 p.m. A man just knocked at the door trying to sell me steak. I had to confess that I don't eat beef. “You’re in Texas, you gotta eat steak!” he said. David and Aidan eat meat, though not very often because I never cook it. Because my parents and in-laws are coming soon, I agreed to buy some steaks and got a great deal on it (the guy was trying to meet his quota), so now I have a freezer full of beef and chicken filets. Hope no mad cows or crazy chickens were used to create these frozen meaty bits. I can’t believe I just bought mystery meat from a door-to-door salesman. Another first.