Entry #18
Friday, October 28
The kids returned from school today feeling cheerful and upbeat. Why? Because they spent the day celebrating Halloween.
Noah’s class watched the movie Psycho, which Noah didn’t think was scary at all, considering the archaic special effects. Just thinking about this movie while taking a shower still scares me. Ah, how times have changed. The kids’ music teacher emulated the sound effects via piano, which really impressed them. Aidan can now play the freaky sound of Norman Bates stabbing through the shower curtain.
Aidan arrived at the car holding a quart-size bag stuffed to the brim with candy. “Every kid got one of these!” he said, beaming. Between the “getting boo’ed” gift basket, treats from my mother-in-law, and this mega-bag, we already have a full bowl of candy, and it’s not even Halloween.
The interesting thing about Aidan is that he likes to collect candy more than eat it. To him, it’s like opening up a new bank account every Halloween. How many Milky Ways will he deposit this year?
4:00 p.m. Roger the repairman is back for the third time since we moved here. The first time he came to fix the dishwasher, though there was nothing he could do short of replace the whole darn thing. The second time our disposal didn’t work. Today he’s here because one toilet is broken, the other has a rusty chain, the sink is falling away from the wall, and a drawer has completely fallen apart. Just yesterday another repairman was here trying to fix our refrigerator, which won’t close because the plastic stripping is so worn out. At least repairs are covered because we’re renting.
Roger came with an assistant this time named Rusty, who ironically was the one to replace the rusty chain. He would look like a fresh-faced teenager if it wasn’t for his mutton-chops.
While working in the bathroom, he inadvertently freed a cockroach that had found residence behind the wobbly sink. The sink has since been re-glued and the roach is now inhabiting the great outdoors.
Roger said there wasn’t much he could do for the flimsy drawer but put some epoxy on it. “It’s made out of paper,” he said. I’m not expecting dovetail joinery and wooden dowels, but PAPER? Geez. This house is built like a second grade art project.
9:00 p.m. We just returned from the Annual Harvest Hayride at 7 Acre Wood. The name of this place reminded me of Winnie-the-Pooh, though that was, of course, 100-Acre Wood. It was already pretty dark by the time we got there, but I could still take in the scene: a pumpkin patch, some farm animals (goats and chickens), a small putt-putt course, horse shoes, a mini zip line, swings and of course, a tractor pulling a wagon lined with hay. All in all, seven acres of down-home fun.
In addition to serving hot dogs and chips, there was a café, which seemed to be very popular judging by the number of people holding warm beverage cups. The indoor seating area was empty, but still illuminated, so I went inside to check out the assortment of country-style bric-a-brac.
While the place was certainly warm and inviting, I was struck by the abundance of religious objets d'art, mounted crosses, and evangelical booklets accompanied by a "please take one" sign. The bookshelves were filled with bible study materials, as well as a few dusty history books.
I met a few parents at the kids’ school, and it really is an international place. I’ve met people from Holland, Italy and Israel, but the majority seem to be upper-middle class Mexicans.
Now that the temperature has dropped, the house is suddenly freezing at night. David realized, while standing next to the wall, that he could actually feel the cold air coming in. “This house was definitely built by the first little piggy,” he said.
Saturday, October 29
12:30 p.m. I just picked up Noah from bowling. Rather than relay the usual, “It was fun,” he told me he was upset with himself for having an especially low series of scores that day. I figured he simply had an “off” day, but then found our he’d used a 15-pound ball, far too heavy for his lanky arms.
Noah said that ordinarily he wouldn’t care what his score was, but since everyone takes bowling so seriously around here, it’s hard to just have fun. Luckily I could step outside the situation and give him some perspective. For one, I reminded him that his team is called “We’ve Got Balls.” For another, it’s BOWLING. When it stops being fun, it’s time to stop bowling.
3:30 p.m. We just returned from the kids’ last YMCA basketball game. Noah was the big scorer, mainly because he can reach over everyone else’s head to get the rebounds and then reach over them once again to score. Aidan was great on defense, though he was definitely crowded by the most assertive kid on the other team. He was also tripped, elbowed and pushed, so by the end of the game, his nose was throbbing and he was walking with a definite limp. Still, the boys really looked out for one another on the court, and they won their last game by just a few points. Hopefully Aidan can learn to stay out of the way of pointy elbows in the future.
4:30 p.m. I just returned from the cul-de-sac mailbox to find a belated birthday gift from a Berkeley friend. She grew up in North Carolina, so she’s really a Southern gal at heart. In the card, she wrote that I would be receiving a subscription to the enclosed magazine. Upon unwrapping it, I discovered my first issue of Garden & Gun: Soul of the South.
I’d never seen this magazine before, so I immediately rifled through it (so to speak) and was quite impressed. One feature I especially liked was the “Made in the South Awards,” which include everything from hand-built guitars and custom hats to farm tables and herbal jam. The only mention of anything proximate to Houston in this issue is a nod to a restored hotel in Galveston. Since The Woodlands is more semblant of Anywhere, USA than Charming, South, it’s unlikely to be featured anytime soon.
Sunday, October 30
10:00 a.m. After dropping the kids off at Sunday school, we met up with a neighbor for a walk around the George Mitchell Reserve. Izzie loves romping with his two Golden Retrievers, so this was a real treat for her.
Along the way, we talked about the schools here, among other things, and the number of kids who play football. “I was a quarterback about 100 pounds ago,” he said. He told us that at the middle school alone, 600 kids (out of the 2200 on the 7th/8th grade campus) play football. There are 12 teams, 12 coaches, 12 games every week.
While most of these kids attend the rigorous practices and are technically on one of the many teams, only a fraction of them actually play the games. This is also the case with high school teams. “There can be like 100 kids on the sidelines. Texas likes to intimidate people that way,” our neighbor said.
Besides the all-encompassing topic of sports, the other subject we chatted about was the reserve itself. Only within the last few years has it actually been officially designated as a nature preserve. Before that, it was private land. Our neighbor said he was jogging around there a few years back when a game warden stopped him and started writing up a ticket. Having grown up in Louisiana, he’d heard that game wardens in Texas are basically all-powerful, so he kept mum. A person he knew who’d “had a word” with a warden was handcuffed and taken to jail.
Our neighbor said he’s seen plenty of wildlife, mostly deer, but has heard that there’s a big population of boars around here. He saw some guys with crossbows while hiking one day and figured they were hunting “wild pigs.” I can’t imagine running into a tusked pig, but it could happen. Izzie would likely run after it, wanting to play.
Hogs were introduced in Mexico and Texas 300 years ago by the Spanish, who brought them here for food. Other domesticated pigs escaped and became wild over the years and joined them.
—www.ehow.com/facts
8:00 p.m. I opened up my handy Texas guidebook and was reading about possible places to take the kids’ friends when they visit this coming weekend. One place that sounds interesting (but probably not up their alley) is the Varner Plantation, once inhabited by “The First Lady of Texas,” Ima Hogg. This was her real name. Miss Hogg, as she was known, became a major American philanthropic, patron and collector of the arts and “one of the most respected women in Texas during the 20th century (New York Times, 8/21/75).”
Ima Hogg was described as “small and dainty and feminine” (lucky for her). Her first name was supposedly taken from her uncle Thomas Hogg’s epic Civil War poem, The Fate of Marvin, which featured two young women named Ima and Leila. Contrary to popular belief, Ima did not have a sister named Ura. (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ima_Hogg)
Monday, October 31
Today began in a way I can only describe as appropriately ghoulish, since Halloween is tonight. First thing this morning, Noah tossed his cookies (or rather breakfast) all over the kitchen floor after taking his “teen” vitamins. Then, Izzie decided to roll around in some sort of putrefied fecal matter. Of course she was bound to do this because I gave her a long, thorough bath yesterday after hiking in the woods and picking off 13 lively tics. Hopefully as the day progresses, there will be less tricks (and tics) and more treats.
4:00 p.m. This afternoon I saw a man dressed as Santa. This is a first. It does make perfect sense, though, considering the fact that every store I entered today had its Halloween goods on sale half price and already had Thanksgiving and Christmas items out on display. Santa is obviously aware of this.
6:00 p.m. While getting ready for Halloween, Aidan tossed a football with a neighbor of ours, a 16-year-old girl whose softball team just won not only number one in the state championships, but number one in the nation. She was sporting a big, chunky championship ring. The level of not just competition, but also achievement in sports here is mind-boggling.
9:00 p.m. I just finished giving away two full bins of Ring Pops. While in Berkeley, we had very few trick-or-treaters in the neighborhood, so it was fun to give out candy for a change.
The gathering around the cul-de-sac was quite nice, though I completely embarrassed myself by asking the man sitting next to me which house was his. He patted my leg and said, “Darlin, I live next door.” Granted, I'd met him only once, but still... I slumped behind my cauldron of Ring Pops for a little while before regaining my composure.
There were two full-size tables filled with all kinds of food, including several slow cookers filled with hots dogs and baked beans, meatballs in some kind of sweet purple sauce, Chick-Fil-A nuggets, and a variety of dips and sauces. Someone carved a small pumpkin to look like it was barfing guacomole, which was clever (though somewhat unappetizing after my morning clean-up). I didn't end up bringing Jell-O, but instead bought some lox (it's appropriately orange) and made mini bagel, lox, cream cheese and cucumber appetizers. Not exactly along the same lines as buffalo dip and mini weenies, but tasty nonetheless.
Aidan was stoked about his stash of candy after trick-or-treating around the neighborhood. Full-size candy bars are always a big hit, and he got several of them, to his great delight. His other personal favorites? A bag of Doritos and microwave popcorn.
Noah decided not to go trick-or-treating since he felt too self-conscious about his 6’2” height to play dress-up and ask for candy. Aidan, however, now has enough loot to keep both of them hopped up on sugar for months to come. Aidan dressed up as Yoda for the third year running, only this year my young Padawan wore Birkenstocks. You can take the boy out of Berkeley...
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