Entry #27

Entry #27

Friday, December 9

10:00 a.m. Izzie is sleeping, crashed out on the mattress next to my desk. We ended up hiking with three other dogs (and two other humans)—one an adorable puppy, one ten months, and another around Izzie's age—all about the same color, oddly enough. By the time we finished the walk/romp, Izzie was more gray than cream and completely plumb-tuckered.

One of the humans I ran into was the same person who told me that her neighbors stopped speaking to her after she placed an Obama sign on her lawn during the ’08 election (she grew up in Illinois). Today, she shared another story about when she first moved here. She was invited to participate in a yoga class not knowing that it was a “bible-yoga class.” A passage from the New Testament would be read for each pose, during which time participants were expected to contemplate those holy words. Consider the following parallels: Downward dog—Upward God, Salutation to the Sun—Salutation to the Son, Child's Pose—Holy Child's Posse (okay, that one's stretching it a bit, but after all, yoga is about stretching is it not?).

2:00 p.m. Today’s Huffington Post includes a list of the “Top 8 Most Artery-Clogging Cities in the U.S.” As you may guess, two of those are in Texas (Dallas and Lubbock). Three are in adjacent states (Louisiana and Oklahoma). So that means that 63% of America’s most artery-clogging cities are right around here.

4:00 p.m. Have you ever heard of 1015 onions? Well I hadn’t, until just this afternoon. I was waiting to pick up the kids after school when I heard a fellow parent talking about his son’s birthday being on 10/9. I told him mine was 10/10, and another parent nearby said his birthday was 10/15, to which the first guy said, “Have you heard of 10/15 onions? They’re the best.” He said they get really huge, too, which is no surprise, considering that everything's bigger in Texas.

Developed in the early 1980's by Dr. Leonard Pike, a horticulture professor at Texas A&M University, Texas 1015 Onions are actually named for their optimum planting date, October 15.

Grown only in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas, this large, prized onion was developed after ten long years of extensive research, endless testing and a million dollars in cost. As a result, Texas achieved a mild, exceptionally sweet onion that lives up to its nickname - the "Million Dollar Baby".

—www.texas1015.com

Saturday, December 10

10:00 a.m. After our morning walk with Izzie, we sat down for breakfast and read the local papers, along with a magazine that came yesterday. The inside ad read, “Wishing you a Happy Holiday season! $1000 off tummy tuck!” Apparently it was a full-page ad for cosmetic surgery, but I had no idea until I read the tummy tuck part. What a bizarre holiday greeting, especially considering the jolly associations with Santa's girth. Can you imagine him with a tummy tuck? It just wouldn't be right.

1:00 p.m. David met a man down the street who was working on someone’s yard. He had a gold and diamond front tooth and a tattoo beneath each eye: one with the word “human” and the other “haters,” along with some small dollar signs below. He was very polite, interjecting many “yes ma’ams” and such, but all I could do was stare at his tattoos, wondering what compelled him to inscribe those words on his face. 

Sunday, December 11

5:30 p.m. We just returned from the Tomball German Christmas Market, otherwise known as “Weihnachtsmarkt, Texas Style.” While there were a few German touches (a biergarten, musicians in lederhosen, freshly baked strudel), the celebration was pretty much along the lines of what we’ve seen at other local open-air markets (lots of junk food, rhinestone-studded wearables and holiday decorations). The kids were pleased that there were some rides to go on, and Izzie went nose-to-nose with a baby pig near the petting zoo.

When we first walked in, we heard a woman singing country music, then spotted a food booth specializing in “Cowboy Cheese Steak,” as well as fried pickles, Frito chili pie (spelled Chile), and Bavarian Cream Puffs.

Like the other fairs we’ve seen in Texas, several booths sold religious items, including a variety of decorative crosses. One booth featured flagstone remnants carved with a single word and a cross. The display below reminded me of the Sesame Street song, "One of these things is not like the other; one of these things just doesn't belong..."

Another booth sold t-shirts painted with your favorite car or truck. Aidan was impressed with the artist’s talent, and of course, the Mustang designs. Nary a Prius to be found...The kids also liked the array of matrushka dolls painted with every sports team imaginable, as well as political figures, and, of course, traditional designs.

The most memorable part of our journey to Tomball, however, was not the festival itself, but a store across the street from it.

The first thing I saw when I walked in to "Bob's Wild West" was a basket filled with kids’ costumes (your choice of Desert Camo or Turkey Hunter). All four walls were covered with taxidermy. The woman working there (Bob’s wife) saw me staring up at a tusked boar head and said their ranch had once been filled with exotic animals. She described the various animals in great detail, complimenting their hides, their beautiful antlers, and coloration. I was tempted to tell her that the strongest, most beautiful animals are the ones meant to survive—not become prize trophies—but it just didn't seem like the best idea bringing up this topic while surrounded by rifles, tomahawks, and mounted heads.

I asked Bob’s wife (I didn’t learn her name) if she, too, had hunted. She said that when she was in seventh grade she went out with a girlfriend and a bunch of guys. She shot a deer, but because it wasn’t a “kill shot,” her grandfather had to go in search of the deer and find it (in order to put it out of its misery). Ah, childhood memories...good times.

I realized that while I was talking to the storekeeper, I was looking straight into the plasticized mouth of a huge elk, so I moved over and looked into the glass displays. One housed a variety of rhinestone belt buckles, each a wearable “medal” for a bull-riding competition. Another display featured a variety of authentic tomahawks—all for sale. Across the aisle, there were cases of pre-Civil War Era guns and knives, as well as Civil War-era rifles. (The store proprietor showed us a rifle with the name scratched out—apparently a gun obtained from a Yankee by a Confederate). The War Between the States lives on at Bob’s Wild West: part history museum, part taxidermy shop, and a true slice o’ Texas.