Entry #16

Entry #16

Sunday, October 23

4:00 p.m. I just returned from Mercer Arboretum in nearby Humble (pronounced Umble), about 20 minutes away. David had to work and the kids weren’t too keen about walking around looking at flowers, so it was just my mother-in-law, Joni, her twin sister, Jeanette, and me.

An oasis of serenity and natural beauty along Cypress Creek, Mercer Arboretum & Botanic Gardens is a horticultural masterpiece. These 300 acres of East Texas Piney Woods showcase the region’s largest collection of native and cultivated plants. A living museum, it is also home to a wealth of animal life.

I told Joni and Jeanette that they needed to take their purses with them because we’d seen a lot of signs warning us about thefts. Ironically, a car had just been broken into shortly before we arrived, and a security officer was sweeping up glass from a shattered window. So much for this place being “an oasis of serenity...”

A notice alerted us that we if we were going to take photos, we had to sign something, so we made our way to the small front office. I didn’t quite understand why taking photos of flowers and shrubbery would require a legal signature, so I asked the docent working there. She explained that people have taken the liberty of placing their children directly on flowering plants, have pulled out native foliage to get a better shot, and crushed the carefully tended greenery. Hence the need to tell people: if you’re going to take a photo, don’t smash, squash, kill, or otherwise damage our garden. This is a prime example of “addressing the lowest common denominator.”

As we ambled among the flowers, we were met with not just a few but an entire swarm of mosquitos. At first I didn’t realize I was being followed by these bloodsucking varmints, but Jeannette quickly noticed I was quickly becoming a central feasting zone. By the time we left the arboretum, my legs and arms were covered with swollen bites.

I took a few nice photos of Joni and Jeanette before leaving, and was tempted to ask if I could photograph a girl who was about to celebrate her quinceañera—an elaborate celebration of a Latina girl’s 15^th birthday. The girl's bright pink dress was so large and bright, it took center stage, with billows of satin, lace and ribbon. When she walked, she had to pick up the gigantic, hoop skirt, which looked like something borrowed from a bridal cake. 

8:30 p.m. George Bush Sr. and Jr., the 41^st and 43^rd presidents of the United States, were joined by fellow Texan and former MLB All-Star, Nolan Ryan, for the ceremonial first pitch of today’s World Series game in Arlington, Texas. Zooey Deschanel sang the National Anthem, though Aidan was convinced it was Katy Perry. “Does Katy Perry have a twin?” he asked.

We happened to catch these brief moments because we were at a Japanese restaurant and a TV was on behind the sushi bar. The game opener began while we were waiting for our food.

The menu at this very tasty restaurant included “The Woodlands” sushi rolls, each named for one of the nine villages here. I wonder what the ingredients in these rolls say about the people inhabiting each village. The Carlton Woods, for example, is a roll with “fried crawfish or scallops, spicy sauce, smelt eggs and mushrooms on top of a California roll.” Alden Bridge is a “breaded and deep-fried potato with tempura shrimp.” We live in Indian Springs, so if we were to order a roll representing our little neck of the woods, we’d have a “baked California roll with salmon and sweet sauce on top.” Several of these rolls are topped with “smelt eggs.” Why smelt eggs? Does Does the sushi chef think The Woodlands smells like eggs (as in "I smelt eggs")? Or perhaps lots of smelt swim in the man-made lakes here? I've never seen this ingredient on a Japanese menu before. 

Monday, October 24

 7:00 a.m. David’s aunt and mom are leaving this morning, and apparently his aunt wasn’t feeling well last night and came into the kitchen to get some cranberry juice. Joni told me that she found some, but it had tasted "really awful." Turns out she guzzled more than half a bottle of cranberry-flavored Kombucha, which tastes more like vinegar than anything fruity. I can only imagine Jeanette’s expression while trying to down a whole glass of this stuff.

Today’s Etsy email included an entire section dedicated to deer, entitled “Oh Deer!” Did they investigate my current demographics or something? Today’s selection featured a deer locket necklace, a brown leather bracelet, a deer head vinyl wall decal, and a mounted deer head boutonniere, with the following description:

 “This is the perfect boutonniere for your hipster wedding or for a simple guy who likes to hunt bambi, not that i do. i sold one recently to a wedding party who were doing an entire wedding of taxidermy, mosses and succulents.”

This item is a whopping $50. At least no deer (Lilluputian or otherwise) were killed to create this eclectic piece.

Tuesday, October 25

10:00 a.m. I just returned from a “wellness” appointment, the latest term for a check-up. The practice is run by a female doctor, and the entire office looks like something from Southern Living. While waiting, I sat on a faux-leopard skin chair and observed my surrounds. Decorative throw pillows, faux floral arrangements, swaths of gold lamé, and overstuffed upholstered furniture gave the waiting room the appearance of a staged home.

The people working there—all women—are dressed to the nines, with full-faces of makeup, coiffed hair, and high heels. I walked in wearing jeans, a t-shirt, clogs and minimal makeup. This is the first time I’ve ever felt underdressed going to the doctor.

I drove along some side streets to get there and passed roads called Budde, Robin Walk and Wishbone Bush. There were a few streets named after birds like Hornbill and Cassowary, too. I was surprised to see a store called Buffalo Nickel Emporium. Do they sell enough of these antique coins to be able to "rub two nickels together"? Another place I saw was called Mighty Kids University, basically a converted 1970s house with no "university" students in sight. Down the street was an Adult Day Care and a place called Birds of Paradise: Specializing in hand-fed exotic birds. What an eclectic neighborhood.

On the way back, I looked at Lake Woodlands, a man-made lake that was original built as a water feature and drainage source for The Woodlands community. The area adjacent to Woodlands Parkway is home to a variety of birds, including the largest congregation of vultures I have ever seen. There must’ve been at least four dozen of them hanging out today.

This makes me wonder: If there are so many vultures in The Woodlands, why isn’t the roadkill getting eaten? Are they already full? Isn't this their job to be "nature's waste managers"?

In parting, a few words of Texas wisdom:

• Never slap a man who’s chewin’ tobacco.
• Lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier n’ puttin’ it back in.
• If you get to thinkin’ you’re a person of some influence, try orderin’ somebody else’s dog around.
• Never kick a cow chip on a hot day.
• There’s two theories to arguin’ with a woman. Neither one works.
• Don’t squat with your spurs on.
• Always drink upstream from the herd.
• If you’re riding ahead of the herd, take a look back every now and then to make sure it’s still there.
• Never miss a good chance to shut up.

—wilk4.com/humor/humorm205.htm

On that note...