tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11556371219396792362024-03-14T05:12:53.262-05:00The Texas TwangA tale of daily life as a Texas woman in the worldGrayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-15370339468839596642013-01-16T22:38:00.002-06:002013-01-17T14:06:07.332-06:00The Year in Quilts - 2012<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqLbzBepbqdskZdiloOvEc6yz9S47ftPEi0E-wFmaxvQbYEJeEwuR7PE8gltq2f9eUuRxg77CXU55LSxDm41AeJGExcCUTUomSBPgnEiEiMc8E224b9l8MBNcQ7di1Y5cSD69MnbsDU4/s1600/Old-Tyme-Barn-Quilts_Cheryl+Bartley.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqLbzBepbqdskZdiloOvEc6yz9S47ftPEi0E-wFmaxvQbYEJeEwuR7PE8gltq2f9eUuRxg77CXU55LSxDm41AeJGExcCUTUomSBPgnEiEiMc8E224b9l8MBNcQ7di1Y5cSD69MnbsDU4/s320/Old-Tyme-Barn-Quilts_Cheryl+Bartley.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.cherylbartleydesigns.com/servlet/the-656/AN-OLD-TYME-QUILT/Detail">An Old Tyme Quilt Barn by Cheryl Bartley</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
As I take stock of the completed quilts I made during 2012, I am quite pleased with my little ol' self. I completed nine quilts and two quilt tops. That's pretty darn good for me! <br />
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To make these quilts, I enlisted the help of two special characters - Thor and Big Red. I started the year off quilting by hand, but made a decision during the year to take the plunge, buying two new machines. I wanted to speed up the process of quilting, so I could get more quilts done.<br />
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Thor, my Husqvarna Viking Sapphire 850, is a wonderful machine that I bought used from a friend. (Thank you, Dolly!) I used Thor for a number of months as I learned how to free-motion quilt.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8Sh8IM6WqGWEQ_Atw_EiN9kGAplR2mGWlsRsfv4nm98A2l_zuTAwRhY5CT1LUp8gmuPY4e1eTwmNLgoGedQ9Y5_1BkXaKmdu1bXglNY9aosyfesO0Wyh77Kj14kJZql7j1o9mcS1IPA/s1600/IMG_1713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8Sh8IM6WqGWEQ_Atw_EiN9kGAplR2mGWlsRsfv4nm98A2l_zuTAwRhY5CT1LUp8gmuPY4e1eTwmNLgoGedQ9Y5_1BkXaKmdu1bXglNY9aosyfesO0Wyh77Kj14kJZql7j1o9mcS1IPA/s320/IMG_1713.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
As my skill level increased, though, I realized that I needed a few more bells and whistles not offered on the Viking, like the thread cutter and automatic tension. So, I purchased Big Red, a Janome Horizon Memory Craft 7700 QCP (used less than one year by the original owner). He came to me already donned "Big Red". This puppy can purr!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhERwOb6tgTRiE-NNMnOEdWbn8hwqWED7g88M7qH3jbDRf_QUx2kNoRhGR0VwX04rCCoCJgunkjbkLDfyp-QKGcPxmjYQRbuin631ut1bVKVyW1RnZzRMvcXFdwC68lt1EUzR-crqnQWRs/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhERwOb6tgTRiE-NNMnOEdWbn8hwqWED7g88M7qH3jbDRf_QUx2kNoRhGR0VwX04rCCoCJgunkjbkLDfyp-QKGcPxmjYQRbuin631ut1bVKVyW1RnZzRMvcXFdwC68lt1EUzR-crqnQWRs/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Here's a review of the nine quilts I finished in 2012.<br />
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<b>Scrappy Bear Claw Quilt</b><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZRZMu1aFX808DJG6RDCpIp8bRAXC9-mEpy34zVs36l2JFwHGNkQuRhJ0nTerVH6lV8fGOS5byixCpc0PaT0Gi8h1OcZy9qCsauX3pmUsv1d1T2YPmNZfY9mE_g4M-tKoPPGefEGb1J8/s1600/Scrappy+Bear+Claw_2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZRZMu1aFX808DJG6RDCpIp8bRAXC9-mEpy34zVs36l2JFwHGNkQuRhJ0nTerVH6lV8fGOS5byixCpc0PaT0Gi8h1OcZy9qCsauX3pmUsv1d1T2YPmNZfY9mE_g4M-tKoPPGefEGb1J8/s320/Scrappy+Bear+Claw_2012.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
This quilt was machine pieced and hand quilted. This double-size quilt sits on our guest bed upstairs. Here's a picture of the Scrappy Bear Claw back, showing the quilting detail.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebGfj4I10RKT4BCoGTkVY23GInYkhXO-ED2Wdxjfsrb1cQ6MxaAN0A5Bnepi7X4Vwdiknw_bnDj_9PYvwcothl-7iTSX6-QYpsNlwMxx2oVTv9s4c11PJjEXUeEtYh641GI15MXoElT8/s1600/IMG_1351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebGfj4I10RKT4BCoGTkVY23GInYkhXO-ED2Wdxjfsrb1cQ6MxaAN0A5Bnepi7X4Vwdiknw_bnDj_9PYvwcothl-7iTSX6-QYpsNlwMxx2oVTv9s4c11PJjEXUeEtYh641GI15MXoElT8/s320/IMG_1351.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<b>Cassie's Nine Patch Quilt</b> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIrLUf78QtoLBvSgMUboo-BbG0ICs03MAF7RoFh6F9zAUkNupH7wMsVCjKPzMzePYdHYun0JyFYKO4Q0fTdWQDpJXIeTyMZBp2T6OJRk0XTawZ_Eo3nBXHn2wQW3dfZszDGLAjp7Xvtw/s1600/IMG_2092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIrLUf78QtoLBvSgMUboo-BbG0ICs03MAF7RoFh6F9zAUkNupH7wMsVCjKPzMzePYdHYun0JyFYKO4Q0fTdWQDpJXIeTyMZBp2T6OJRk0XTawZ_Eo3nBXHn2wQW3dfZszDGLAjp7Xvtw/s320/IMG_2092.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This quilt for my niece, Cassie, is machine pieced and hand quilted. I used this quilt to teach a beginner's quilting class. The frog print is called Lily Pond, designed by Wendy Slotboom for In The Beginning fabrics. The majority of the remaining hot pink fabrics are from the Whimsey line by Pillow & Maxfield for Michael Miller fabrics.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b> Callie's Butterfly Quilt</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tAuiTDzvyYcJw4yOClLDuc8YEvaKcy3zFThBtCAv-LV8PG_oR873Rb12X2CrPSIX0hujq65DtxpwMvmMIWo_3hqvy3T800gcEEi5imEmNA1qJ_Si29xDPv2WsEbSRbJyzv6l_hQU3gc/s1600/IMG_1583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tAuiTDzvyYcJw4yOClLDuc8YEvaKcy3zFThBtCAv-LV8PG_oR873Rb12X2CrPSIX0hujq65DtxpwMvmMIWo_3hqvy3T800gcEEi5imEmNA1qJ_Si29xDPv2WsEbSRbJyzv6l_hQU3gc/s320/IMG_1583.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Machine pieced and free motion quilted (stippling pattern), Callie's Butterfly Quilt in teal and brown was the first quilt I made with my Viking machine. Stippling is a continuous squiggly line pattern very popular for machine quilting. Below is a close up view.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b> </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBY2eU-mgYmXkSdge0hCa89QQDZnBeZRJ5HlV95Le_CqUYaa2WlQRvWk0UU4NdBq30TbB6ZqLvNuqI5Bu8I9Ix-MZuuDeSsnJTI3LV5P7-sBgOzZSliap54u-_eB8HGde_6lLF2E0CDOA/s1600/IMG_1585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBY2eU-mgYmXkSdge0hCa89QQDZnBeZRJ5HlV95Le_CqUYaa2WlQRvWk0UU4NdBq30TbB6ZqLvNuqI5Bu8I9Ix-MZuuDeSsnJTI3LV5P7-sBgOzZSliap54u-_eB8HGde_6lLF2E0CDOA/s320/IMG_1585.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Sable's Disappearing Nine Patch Quilt</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7R5jeiAPqryrkAy25dSdzgE5ACSIdojAWW7xoq2h5bm27S8UPbXSuyjQTw7ol1nz2OJ1BqNwE1v6cBrLPbrMkASsIxhliqXdIYSPVV5UeOqyOIz7_XVhO9yrb3xlc2_uLPIYUlHSx0J4/s1600/IMG_1755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7R5jeiAPqryrkAy25dSdzgE5ACSIdojAWW7xoq2h5bm27S8UPbXSuyjQTw7ol1nz2OJ1BqNwE1v6cBrLPbrMkASsIxhliqXdIYSPVV5UeOqyOIz7_XVhO9yrb3xlc2_uLPIYUlHSx0J4/s320/IMG_1755.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This version of the Disappearing Nine Patch pattern (and there are several) is very appealing to me. This one was made using Kate Spain's Fandango line for Moda fabrics. This was machine pieced and free motion quilted on my Viking machine.<b> </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br />
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</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>The Book of Mormon Sampler Quilt</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQ7pPMI-UgXBKiMIfway2NBCqGHWnCN5h683-3Nfk-fkCQcagvJ1E6UOk_UlXAeBGoGim_AEWeAuVdM5XiwuEgEGRwVg4Bte-b2d_lYC2CbnfAuVBhBgEiolORICWv-QSiI5PDWbbcKw/s1600/IMG_2032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQ7pPMI-UgXBKiMIfway2NBCqGHWnCN5h683-3Nfk-fkCQcagvJ1E6UOk_UlXAeBGoGim_AEWeAuVdM5XiwuEgEGRwVg4Bte-b2d_lYC2CbnfAuVBhBgEiolORICWv-QSiI5PDWbbcKw/s320/IMG_2032.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b></b></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Book of Mormon Sampler Quilt was inspired by our study of the Book of Mormon in 2012 at church. The block patterns came from the book, <i><a href="http://books.google.com/books/about/More_Biblical_Quilt_Blocks.html?id=EwHSPAAACAAJ">More Biblical Quilt Blocks</a> </i>by Rosemary Makhan. The center star came from Lisa Cogar's book, <i><a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=YueJQAAACAAJ&source=gbs_similarbooks">Quilted Devotions</a>.</i> Each block has unique meaning to me and is associated with a scripture passage from <i><a href="http://mormon.org/book-of-mormon">The Book of Mormon</a></i>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This red, gold and brown quilt, which lays across the back of my sofa, was machine pieced and machine quilted, using various techniques. Below is a close up of the center star quilting design.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABzLITq4NFZK0ffuKAgUt3AtVkDP5IdQ7u_ZsDDraIHW1cyeKfJNje_US7xqLm3qSnxettgx6h4HUi19Xm55-Kk-ADXGY6NbuoKT75NNB4qY9fHLeahBT2283K3w9IfrbB7GRRiBHyZg/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABzLITq4NFZK0ffuKAgUt3AtVkDP5IdQ7u_ZsDDraIHW1cyeKfJNje_US7xqLm3qSnxettgx6h4HUi19Xm55-Kk-ADXGY6NbuoKT75NNB4qY9fHLeahBT2283K3w9IfrbB7GRRiBHyZg/s320/IMG_2033.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Give a Hoot Quilt</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhXImkTUAR34qXh5CzbBbTV6W7Vf-4svbxT5JHkNiSPNh8cc1xjaPkH6pVEXeRED-gxCESXdXWruHqi0qmgsago0lhf0dWVrhPt_pGeUKRHA4b8cBWt18G7v-SpDvtr1hwnFAklxThOQ/s1600/IMG_1917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhXImkTUAR34qXh5CzbBbTV6W7Vf-4svbxT5JHkNiSPNh8cc1xjaPkH6pVEXeRED-gxCESXdXWruHqi0qmgsago0lhf0dWVrhPt_pGeUKRHA4b8cBWt18G7v-SpDvtr1hwnFAklxThOQ/s320/IMG_1917.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This whimsical appliqued quilt I designed was fun to make as a baby quilt for a friend! The lap-sized quilt was machine pieced and machine quilted. The appliqued letters were attached using a needle-turned technique, while the owls were appliqued by machine. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Joyous Sunrise</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZO2IML5YRZvdeXHu2EOdsmxSje3GDadfG_-QAryqMaPnZGnICAOI0IRmkhbE60TENm7yNirjKCNkIF83sb2ve12O7UUw01qouDoSFW4UDbzs8SPhfFniVBOOr7YK-z_S6aIhskEoBaj0/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZO2IML5YRZvdeXHu2EOdsmxSje3GDadfG_-QAryqMaPnZGnICAOI0IRmkhbE60TENm7yNirjKCNkIF83sb2ve12O7UUw01qouDoSFW4UDbzs8SPhfFniVBOOr7YK-z_S6aIhskEoBaj0/s320/IMG_2037.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The young husband of a friend of mine passed away unexpectedly, and I felt an immediate need to make her a special quilt. This paper-pieced star design was based on the Montana Star from Carol Doak's book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1564772713/?tag=googhydr-20&hvadid=3652911659&hvpos=1t1&hvexid=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=4855947211885960863&hvpone=18.45&hvptwo=34&hvqmt=e&ref=pd_sl_85btojy390_e">50 Fabulous Paper-Pieced Stars.</a> <b> </b>Although each quilt is special and made with love, Joyous Sunrise is one of my all-time favorite quilts. Below is a close up of the quilting detail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskS-fZ9BKeLv3NBLJh5s_YVPIyoo6GgYYA7CRZ232vIfqAWi8sEIcNbNaJaFj49HZ_mMrqKVpebA5A_ZX2ajavswhF3tXvAXcFCu7Ha4a0SRILjqnxHr7enDpF70GdT8xuGCXsQfGSNc/s1600/IMG_2038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskS-fZ9BKeLv3NBLJh5s_YVPIyoo6GgYYA7CRZ232vIfqAWi8sEIcNbNaJaFj49HZ_mMrqKVpebA5A_ZX2ajavswhF3tXvAXcFCu7Ha4a0SRILjqnxHr7enDpF70GdT8xuGCXsQfGSNc/s320/IMG_2038.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Skeletons in the Closet</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXY9tTlhqW6V6CVI0pSSoquNz7HKjFFEAsH0bIZIRebhxXxwJM9GgV1Rmlhy1rFjwiPuuFG0_tUVh21JS07TdJmL9geyDkHyXly21AlrBPJspvooPlPPQlLHp10sNhrtSq2Nuo9K-5URs/s1600/IMG_1901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXY9tTlhqW6V6CVI0pSSoquNz7HKjFFEAsH0bIZIRebhxXxwJM9GgV1Rmlhy1rFjwiPuuFG0_tUVh21JS07TdJmL9geyDkHyXly21AlrBPJspvooPlPPQlLHp10sNhrtSq2Nuo9K-5URs/s320/IMG_1901.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Trevor, my husband's great-nephew, became a senior in high school in 2012. So, for his birthday, I created this modern design, full of skeletons! I've been collecting skeleton fabric for quite some time, but had no idea what I would use it on until this inspiration hit me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4sqclC4KnPsyh4pxJjxZp4HIKilltMGgFM031taJmghZEtk5I9k-vp-U5U2gX_nwNIyiPuIHcP4c1VDh-IKT86xTDVUCfFxhWyjxC1qoKDyiDVkmXdt6jO-uX9FEJbgnOKLyBEsUAvo/s1600/IMG_1906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4sqclC4KnPsyh4pxJjxZp4HIKilltMGgFM031taJmghZEtk5I9k-vp-U5U2gX_nwNIyiPuIHcP4c1VDh-IKT86xTDVUCfFxhWyjxC1qoKDyiDVkmXdt6jO-uX9FEJbgnOKLyBEsUAvo/s320/IMG_1906.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As you can see in this close up, I used a black and cream pastoral toile with skeletons, which I adore! And, the picture below shows the fun skull and crossbones quilting design I used.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinef9yfKWQJkyeKmkvXxvXo6zzMkwf_BXBRks3OKd7udM5vs-bpNzHd70e9vl5NB_P5TANhaM5dBufSIvkPUiZWaoOWlCrzYwy6ZgaAJZBjRld3j16HlaRbSqvZb6wNNEjOLLx9AWDzw0/s1600/IMG_1905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinef9yfKWQJkyeKmkvXxvXo6zzMkwf_BXBRks3OKd7udM5vs-bpNzHd70e9vl5NB_P5TANhaM5dBufSIvkPUiZWaoOWlCrzYwy6ZgaAJZBjRld3j16HlaRbSqvZb6wNNEjOLLx9AWDzw0/s320/IMG_1905.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Wren's Disappearing Nine Patch</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8Lm17AQ_hBu6rOCGM254ACGhYRDEbC5iBpDFyni6unv9WeCNCwE_vA7aZfDGfJJpHFbZDAVHXwfwwwZm-cVPQk-DpfSJ3FSoMlemfixyrSL1oJz4WSb14eb3JeU7_us4f8iWtsxLIVc/s1600/IMG_2080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8Lm17AQ_hBu6rOCGM254ACGhYRDEbC5iBpDFyni6unv9WeCNCwE_vA7aZfDGfJJpHFbZDAVHXwfwwwZm-cVPQk-DpfSJ3FSoMlemfixyrSL1oJz4WSb14eb3JeU7_us4f8iWtsxLIVc/s320/IMG_2080.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lastly, I wrapped up 2012 with another lap-sized baby quilt using the Disappearing Nine Patch design. Machine pieced and machine quilted, I used another colorway of the Pillow & Maxfield's Whimsey line. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>"May your sorrows be patched and your joys quilted."</i>--Unknown</div><br />
<i>"When life throws you scraps, make a quilt."</i>--Unknown<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Quilt until You Wilt, Y'all! </b></span></div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-5361796743195957372013-01-12T22:55:00.000-06:002013-01-16T22:48:04.689-06:00Holiday Hibernation Hangover<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnnatdKOKDc/UPHOR6TrbKI/AAAAAAAAHNw/O3-c64fY5CI/s1600/Exhaustion_Rafi+Talby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnnatdKOKDc/UPHOR6TrbKI/AAAAAAAAHNw/O3-c64fY5CI/s320/Exhaustion_Rafi+Talby.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&tbo=d&biw=1396&bih=638&tbm=isch&tbnid=OEYi5XqLBkhnYM:&imgrefurl=http://www.imagekind.com/Exhaustion-art%3FIMID%3De7cceead-6d40-4d69-926c-161f9f03e26b&docid=mxKkNc9odAmFRM&itg=1&imgurl=http://thumbs.imagekind.com/member/701f2c5d-bc08-4657-a892-d531c383bc75/uploadedartwork/650X650/e7cceead-6d40-4d69-926c-161f9f03e26b.jpg&w=650&h=487&ei=C9ztUMmRBMii2wX0tICYCw&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=79&vpy=130&dur=9174&hovh=194&hovw=259&tx=89&ty=216&sig=112039537966292807051&page=1&tbnh=150&tbnw=191&start=0&ndsp=25&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0,i:90">"Exhaustion" by Rafi Talby</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The holidays just about did me in this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like a large looming elephant, the Christmas tree is still standing in the living room and the indoor decorations are all sitting on the dining room table. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Santas and nutcrackers stare at one another on the table, comparing beards. Meanwhile, the ornaments are beginning to murmur, demanding the stage lights be plugged back into the wall for an encore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The unplugged Christmas lights that I strung upstairs for the grandkids are quickly becoming part of the regular décor, yet offer no illumination to the solution for my malady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My zip and zing, so vibrant and cheery before and during Christmas, has morphed into lengthy slumber and snores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Oh, I’m not the only one – Miss Nanna the Dawg can be found in her dog bed next to the heater at most any hour of the day.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kby6DabHa14/UPHOUZ-DeOI/AAAAAAAAHOQ/gjwaWUBGpto/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kby6DabHa14/UPHOUZ-DeOI/AAAAAAAAHOQ/gjwaWUBGpto/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I suppose the reason for my lethargy is the cold, wet weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It feels more like a holiday hibernation hangover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After Gene gets up out of bed to work, I snuggle even deeper under the covers and quilt. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> W</span>hen I finally will myself awake, I make a cup of delicious hot chocolate (our own special mixture) and crawl back into bed, sipping cocoa and reading my email and <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/grayson.m.nelson">Facebook</a> on my iPhone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Let me share with you a few pictures of the delightful causes for my holiday hangover.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cu6Z-2b5yMY/UPIvWt-5JUI/AAAAAAAAHPc/ELyxhvtCgPM/s1600/Gene+%2526+grandkids+at+Big+Top_Dec2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cu6Z-2b5yMY/UPIvWt-5JUI/AAAAAAAAHPc/ELyxhvtCgPM/s320/Gene+%2526+grandkids+at+Big+Top_Dec2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jace, Jake Joey, AJ, Alexis and Gene (Grandpa)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Gene put the grandkids to work as soon as they arrived, having them rake leaves and smash all the aluminum cans we had collected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They redeemed the cans for approximately $16.00 and then headed to the <a href="http://bigtopcandyshop.tumblr.com/">Big Top Candy Shop</a> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">on South Congress for a treat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Big Top Candy Shop is definitely an experience not to be missed while in Austin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each time I enter, I feel as though I’m reverting back into that little girl with wide eyes and cavities, excited about the enormous selection of sweets before me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are nostalgic candies, handmade chocolates and novelty items.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our favorite was the Box of Boogers! All in all, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think Gene spent about $63.00 on our confectionary purchases.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those kids sure love their Grandpa!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And, if that wasn’t enough sugar to create a whirling on this side of the planet strong enough to cause a monstrous sandstorm in Dubai, I took them there a second time during their visit! What was I thinking?!! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know what it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want my two nieces, Corinne and Cassie to feel left out of the fun. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, I’m vying for Best Aunt on The Planet award.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUJWAevwgZU/UPIvYniOsII/AAAAAAAAHP0/hyuZe3ToZDc/s1600/Jace_Corinne_Cassie_Alexis_AJ_BigTopCandyShop_Dec2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUJWAevwgZU/UPIvYniOsII/AAAAAAAAHP0/hyuZe3ToZDc/s320/Jace_Corinne_Cassie_Alexis_AJ_BigTopCandyShop_Dec2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jace, Corinne, Cassie, Alexis and AJ at Big Top Candy Shop</td></tr>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;">With visions of all those sugar plums dancing in their heads, I don’t know how the kids fell asleep on Christmas Eve.</span></o:p> </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RxjryhlRECE/UPIvTz4I0YI/AAAAAAAAHO8/wpBXaNTirVA/s1600/Jace_Jake_Joey_AJ_Dec2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RxjryhlRECE/UPIvTz4I0YI/AAAAAAAAHO8/wpBXaNTirVA/s320/Jace_Jake_Joey_AJ_Dec2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">During their stay, we drove down to Wimberley, Texas to meet up with my sister, Cameron, for the <a href="http://emilyann.org/tol.cfm"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Trail of Lights</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is so much fun and much less crowded than Austin’s Trail of Lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great jumping court jesters, the Princess’ carriage is under attack!</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E0hjHsNtpFw/UPIvXIJTzcI/AAAAAAAAHPk/k_XESYaxDVc/s1600/Grandkids+at+Wimberley+Trail+of+Lights_Dec2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E0hjHsNtpFw/UPIvXIJTzcI/AAAAAAAAHPk/k_XESYaxDVc/s320/Grandkids+at+Wimberley+Trail+of+Lights_Dec2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For the Trail of Lights, various Wimberley community groups, churches and local businesses create individual light and interactive displays at the </span><a href="http://emilyann.org/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">EmilyAnn Theatre and Gardens</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, and the people there are some of the friendliest Texans you’ll ever meet!<o:p></o:p> </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PaxfaqcLzws/UPHOU27Q9_I/AAAAAAAAHOY/OrhF-YkSrG0/s1600/Trail+of+Lights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PaxfaqcLzws/UPHOU27Q9_I/AAAAAAAAHOY/OrhF-YkSrG0/s320/Trail+of+Lights.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the many perks is free hot chocolate with jumbo marshmallows, and $1.00 will buy you all the fixin’s to make your own S’more (roasted marshmallows and Hershey’s chocolate bar mashed between two graham crackers), along with the use of a long skewer over at the fire pit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s a picture of Aunt Cam showing the kids how to expertly roast a marshmallow over the fire.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--KvYqp64ar4/UPIvX3EPqNI/AAAAAAAAHPs/IeHsEV8s2g8/s1600/Cam+%2526+grandkids+at+WimTrail+of+Lights_Dec2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--KvYqp64ar4/UPIvX3EPqNI/AAAAAAAAHPs/IeHsEV8s2g8/s320/Cam+%2526+grandkids+at+WimTrail+of+Lights_Dec2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The day after Christmas, we journeyed 90 miles to the Double M Ranch, near Fort Hood, to see Granny and Grandad (great-grandparents).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made enough enchiladas to feed a third world country, while my brother, Craig, and his wife, Cely, made all the delicious side dishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> <o:p></o:p> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was the first time my parents had the opportunity to meet Jon, Gene’s son, and his family – Jon’s wife Kazuko and his children, Olivia, Jake and Joey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That gave Grandad a new audience for all his safari hunting stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s a picture of my beautiful granddaughters and nieces at the Ranch.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UOr__fpHJDg/UPIvVRLAIoI/AAAAAAAAHPM/CL5Bx-wkVlE/s1600/Olivia_Alexis_Cassie_Corinne_Dec2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UOr__fpHJDg/UPIvVRLAIoI/AAAAAAAAHPM/CL5Bx-wkVlE/s320/Olivia_Alexis_Cassie_Corinne_Dec2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olivia, Alexis, Cassie and Corinne</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We made wonderful, heaping mounds of memories together this Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I’m not really hungover or exhausted. Maybe I’m just missin’ those precious grandchildren of mine!<o:p></o:p> </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old.”—</i>Mary H. Waldrip</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>“Our grandchildren accept us for ourselves, without rebuke or effort to change us, as no one in our entire lives has ever done, not our parents, siblings, spouses, friends - and hardly ever our own grown children.”—</i>Ruth Goode</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Love those Littles, Y’all!!</span></span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-87585198861712788532012-09-04T14:13:00.000-05:002012-09-04T14:13:45.522-05:00Somethin's Fishy Here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5ZMZFa_oDUM4Jd8zH4tqSzQg3WvwSmzj0VtAxDjT_QEsnc2yLKMC6_kHTfM4Lxhnt81eqrQT9pGDCwrjBOlo6j9CjdBI4I_wbyOKwf_7TSisUmw56aM2P6RJWevB5L0bB0aibFb3Oyc/s1600/fishbones+-+holly+kitaura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5ZMZFa_oDUM4Jd8zH4tqSzQg3WvwSmzj0VtAxDjT_QEsnc2yLKMC6_kHTfM4Lxhnt81eqrQT9pGDCwrjBOlo6j9CjdBI4I_wbyOKwf_7TSisUmw56aM2P6RJWevB5L0bB0aibFb3Oyc/s320/fishbones+-+holly+kitaura.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I have discovered yet another blog-worthy chow house in Austin…Wahoo’s Fish Taco on South Congress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m probably the last person in town to finally experience <a href="http://wahoos.com/index.php">Wahoo’s</a>, but “fish tacos” just didn’t seem to cause my gluttonous glands to salivate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boy, am I glad for the return of my adventurous, open-minded taste buds!</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7TWFP2XvlKGvzI8-pPUnBuN-pUB0GOGrjsRdpIK0JAIv6sxnKx7Yg0OIIg3YQeYtEhqwG9-OkuWysi8BgmNtO6GXigOatpP6p8DeoxlGUlieZMZAIW10NxvEL8qLnXIjY3nKknUVWw8/s1600/wahoos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7TWFP2XvlKGvzI8-pPUnBuN-pUB0GOGrjsRdpIK0JAIv6sxnKx7Yg0OIIg3YQeYtEhqwG9-OkuWysi8BgmNtO6GXigOatpP6p8DeoxlGUlieZMZAIW10NxvEL8qLnXIjY3nKknUVWw8/s320/wahoos.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wahoo’s serves much more than fish tacos. They have enchiladas, quesadillas, salads, sandwiches, rice bowls and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, they serve more than just fish or shrimp as a filling – beef, chicken and pork, oh my! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRwG5TlzosIYitxpYohNfhPD7bxUG8LUzxHqKdcH2Nl4tpmUdpcimUBjvpjklcNGF4FNwy1U98Gnfgnh2xObuqGngCXjuYVOov4t6BZPcQvui66ttkI6twDAcn4xwXXTx1eQhF_bizzFM/s1600/wahoos+fillings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRwG5TlzosIYitxpYohNfhPD7bxUG8LUzxHqKdcH2Nl4tpmUdpcimUBjvpjklcNGF4FNwy1U98Gnfgnh2xObuqGngCXjuYVOov4t6BZPcQvui66ttkI6twDAcn4xwXXTx1eQhF_bizzFM/s320/wahoos+fillings.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wanting to try the dish that made this California-based chain famous, I ordered up a #2 Combo with grilled fish – one taco and one enchilada with red sauce along with a side of black beans and white rice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gene ordered the #8 Wahoo Bowl (rice bowl) with blackened fish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also got Chips with Guacamole and Salsa.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMZtApX7LUCjP9tYEYLolsAjwa3Ib6G1QmGu-ILc9t88EzY_FiifdSOau2RzbqkK7jGDPTZGFA1DkuM1jInvGPqbE2KbzRnXRKkngH35h27DGsnG_CZA6IjCwkLCiadPLMQ90QvqBQmI/s1600/wahoos+gene+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMZtApX7LUCjP9tYEYLolsAjwa3Ib6G1QmGu-ILc9t88EzY_FiifdSOau2RzbqkK7jGDPTZGFA1DkuM1jInvGPqbE2KbzRnXRKkngH35h27DGsnG_CZA6IjCwkLCiadPLMQ90QvqBQmI/s1600/wahoos+gene+2.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">The atmosphere at Wahoo’s is very casual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although the music was playing a bit loud, we found a booth in the very back that was more secluded where we could hear each other talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stickers on the wall provided nearly as much entertainment as Gene. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAZ1BOnqNZ-VhdmiQzlBUfVPC8pDKGFUnkQG7G_0HSTUT8hQr8-86umgD7dccG5tFt-DPRJbswmqaPpx4_Nc1JZf2rbbqMexm1ZM9SJ2VCvAqp_b5WSqet-D8ZGtNx6Bhc0j0Ei60E0k/s1600/Wahoos+chips.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAZ1BOnqNZ-VhdmiQzlBUfVPC8pDKGFUnkQG7G_0HSTUT8hQr8-86umgD7dccG5tFt-DPRJbswmqaPpx4_Nc1JZf2rbbqMexm1ZM9SJ2VCvAqp_b5WSqet-D8ZGtNx6Bhc0j0Ei60E0k/s1600/Wahoos+chips.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">Almost before we could say “lickety-split”, our chips with guacamole and salsa were served.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, hold onto your seats…the chips were warm!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can I get an “Ooh!....Ahh!”?!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, I do believe this is the best salsa I’ve had in Austin so far….I kid you not. These folks aren’t afraid to use cilantro, which I love!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, the guacamole was exactly the way I like it – fresh and flavorful, made with real avocados.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could’ve made an entire meal on this appetizer alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, alas, I had to share some with Mr. Love Potion No. 9 (pictured above). <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68y6nOshlFbC2X8Mc7vYMIzH1aZTPzDhrg4glpWIJUGClMozvYItDS-cLssBkoNDZhQum9H6_VyKf_2Dtop5jXrwMpJc7-Bry2MPZRCe6fzKaqa6Zuh9zTYZt5abA-IgMKcgCsNuGrsE/s1600/Wahoos+grayson.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68y6nOshlFbC2X8Mc7vYMIzH1aZTPzDhrg4glpWIJUGClMozvYItDS-cLssBkoNDZhQum9H6_VyKf_2Dtop5jXrwMpJc7-Bry2MPZRCe6fzKaqa6Zuh9zTYZt5abA-IgMKcgCsNuGrsE/s1600/Wahoos+grayson.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">My dinner was outstanding!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could show you a better picture, but I began to scarf it down as soon the plate hit the table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only halfway through eating, which was about 1.5 minutes later, did I realize I had not yet captured a picture of this delectable dish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, please take my word for it that the presentation of my meal looked quite lovely and appetizing when it first arrived.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD2QZIDRoc5ilFGL933Aw1QMTqyt4vBJN_VdUVkFGPQVscusNZXUDLqGq1-mpFXLq9dMKm-8Qq1gn2fuZfz7OWjQcItPjTNXS8TqoAVXad2D7gOf7Q_QM2tJ2gXcHKwKfUoVnZl6jag_o/s1600/wahoos+fish+taco+&+enchilada.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD2QZIDRoc5ilFGL933Aw1QMTqyt4vBJN_VdUVkFGPQVscusNZXUDLqGq1-mpFXLq9dMKm-8Qq1gn2fuZfz7OWjQcItPjTNXS8TqoAVXad2D7gOf7Q_QM2tJ2gXcHKwKfUoVnZl6jag_o/s1600/wahoos+fish+taco+&+enchilada.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">The taco was served with two soft corn tortillas filled with delicious grilled fish, shredded cabbage and seasoned tomatoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I doused my taco and rice with the scrumptious creamy cilantro lime sauce, served on the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rice and black beans were cooked perfectly and could also have been eaten as an entire meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The enchilada was a delectable meld of tortilla, cheese, grilled fish and red sauce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything tasted so fresh and yummy!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Gene was not quite as keen on the blackened fish in his Wahoo’s Bowl, commenting it was too spicy, but after tasting my enchilada, he’s game to try Wahoo’s again sometime soon. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a <a href="http://wahoos.com/menu.php">menu</a> like Wahoo’s, there’s something for everyone.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p></o:p> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM1b84x3G0p2zexFe5qTsxab2hQTiwLed9U4SSiwO4SggbNBTo52NRHRzjwf-9PKB5D8p9p67KHm6JDyCFEmjZLfA1os3k7peM1-WupLK53aIpj7nZwfDckyxj1qImRaKXKTI7dcXGLM/s1600/1_whimsical_fish_5_sombrero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM1b84x3G0p2zexFe5qTsxab2hQTiwLed9U4SSiwO4SggbNBTo52NRHRzjwf-9PKB5D8p9p67KHm6JDyCFEmjZLfA1os3k7peM1-WupLK53aIpj7nZwfDckyxj1qImRaKXKTI7dcXGLM/s320/1_whimsical_fish_5_sombrero.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whether you’re hungry for fish or Mexican food, or just want to keep Austin weird, stop in at Wahoo’s Fish Taco on South Congress for a culinary treat your tummy will definitely appreciate!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, and so will your pocketbook!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2ar8cR-TXJmH-ARPcqxnDYEzOB4Mn9fBaI_bajgXRhyeJRQINUAJSdAXJFzCJeHYvcDc9eQA2fTda3uNxfZMIrS81ztY4qrcbw0lSvT0sGJcjPORiT_qg9qlpkX-tFTa8DPb5-4uF5k/s1600/fish+eat+fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2ar8cR-TXJmH-ARPcqxnDYEzOB4Mn9fBaI_bajgXRhyeJRQINUAJSdAXJFzCJeHYvcDc9eQA2fTda3uNxfZMIrS81ztY4qrcbw0lSvT0sGJcjPORiT_qg9qlpkX-tFTa8DPb5-4uF5k/s1600/fish+eat+fish.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take all your Yahoos to Wahoo’s, Y’all!<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-69397368066610700342012-06-16T00:14:00.001-05:002012-06-18T14:01:56.928-05:00Friends, Farewells & Fabulous Food<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDODVHhHqF3DcNgUJmRSDpc_da9V7fAAUnSLjjAndhWszmTM0ijhWAqsf9POrP2gBaSovCZD8bUjgHb0LoSlWdqBIKr-G_s-dG4XdWOi8GOQJt9xMvFvYDe7RnC1Fq_axr_WnGN-VKi5s/s1600/Port+Cafe+Friends+by+Patricia+Govezensky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDODVHhHqF3DcNgUJmRSDpc_da9V7fAAUnSLjjAndhWszmTM0ijhWAqsf9POrP2gBaSovCZD8bUjgHb0LoSlWdqBIKr-G_s-dG4XdWOi8GOQJt9xMvFvYDe7RnC1Fq_axr_WnGN-VKi5s/s320/Port+Cafe+Friends+by+Patricia+Govezensky.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://dart.fine-art.com/artListingInfo.asp?i=103024"><strong><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Port Cafe Friends</span></strong></a><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><strong> </strong>by </span></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Patricia Govezensky</span></span></td></tr>
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My life has been blessed and enriched by the friends I’ve met as I've skipped along the Yellow Brick Road to Happy Destiny. The older I get, the more joy I receive from sharing experiences, events, hobbies and stories with the beautiful women I am grateful to know. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzYhYgeHECV2m4-VJS3jgpiPV8NqmApMgaB-a2uoRkeMfKwWauxBiYGpLUsjd-HqZoWM13IQ3iVmRmQ0kSERsoZp78GQOtCnzOfEjDJYvX7WJ2ayHia1iPihvMMYQND0l9LNlgw6LBh8/s1600/Bonnie_Cindy_Joanne_Kathleen_Grayson+at+Eastside+Cafe_cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzYhYgeHECV2m4-VJS3jgpiPV8NqmApMgaB-a2uoRkeMfKwWauxBiYGpLUsjd-HqZoWM13IQ3iVmRmQ0kSERsoZp78GQOtCnzOfEjDJYvX7WJ2ayHia1iPihvMMYQND0l9LNlgw6LBh8/s320/Bonnie_Cindy_Joanne_Kathleen_Grayson+at+Eastside+Cafe_cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>Two of my newest friends from church, Kathleen (pictured 2nd from the right in the photo above) and Bonnie (far left) are moving away from Austin….reluctantly. Rather than wallow in their departure at my own personal pity party, I organized a small group of us to celebrate our friendship by feasting together one last time.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsx1JOW7wQDq7r3VuZAF4I9ZMDM3WE3l1NhGBWs-RkNvw4zVL4Vxf4PY2N6Yj9sTlUlZphZlY0r49rQOTJCJERtczFcmIjcIMGrogH_11gTo8YCZnaEzzfogCGjtc4rYruQikToeJzOlo/s1600/Cindy_Kathleen_Bonnie_Joanne+at+Eastside+Cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsx1JOW7wQDq7r3VuZAF4I9ZMDM3WE3l1NhGBWs-RkNvw4zVL4Vxf4PY2N6Yj9sTlUlZphZlY0r49rQOTJCJERtczFcmIjcIMGrogH_11gTo8YCZnaEzzfogCGjtc4rYruQikToeJzOlo/s320/Cindy_Kathleen_Bonnie_Joanne+at+Eastside+Cafe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Joanne (above far right) suggested we gather at the <a href="http://www.eastsidecafeaustin.com/">Eastside Café</a>, located at 2113 Manor Road, and what a wonderful idea it was, too! I’ve heard about the Eastside Café for years, but had never eaten there. The restaurant was rather nondescript, situated in a simple, but nice Craftsman style house. Our party of six met for an early lunch, and we were seated immediately.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwCCjo1SJxkTKXqauUXaN3o_PFo4ZZCyHThzcQqIaTUZXxIdrGvip5cBe8VkAUOBlcxARaTHCWN6dTDz1zFFwBqQGa6e26UO4m40QYD3tPwTSAzPDex4RGAZOWaAaqUVGtMFDInzPbjjI/s1600/Eastside+Cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwCCjo1SJxkTKXqauUXaN3o_PFo4ZZCyHThzcQqIaTUZXxIdrGvip5cBe8VkAUOBlcxARaTHCWN6dTDz1zFFwBqQGa6e26UO4m40QYD3tPwTSAzPDex4RGAZOWaAaqUVGtMFDInzPbjjI/s320/Eastside+Cafe.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>Making a decision about what to order was nearly as tough as saying goodbye to my two beautiful friends! I started off my lunch with a cup of Chicken Artichoke Heart Soup (not pictured), which I wolfed down so fast there was no time for a picture, along with a yummy Jalapeño cornbread muffin. As an entrée, I selected the Sesame Catfish, consisting of a fresh, baked Texas catfish fillet breaded with sesame seeds, parsley, and bread crumbs. It was served with garlic aioli, and the flavor was delicious. For a side, I ordered the squash, which deserves its own merit. Baked to perfection, the butternut squash was an unexpected treat, covered with a sauce that is hard for me to describe - an Asian flavor, perhaps sesame ginger – that complemented the natural sweetness of the squash.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyr5iH0bI8BedAX9TrUxSdmmGlJhmrUtoRnf1ZDq43vl3W6ZJebyJWpciBey6TIeGlp9-IVSaayyP5AubCt_2E6d7rTMSgKV7Sq3iXdZRJ_sfHMTDdk_X2WS3Nm37A8IXu0ShTLxQjEJs/s1600/Sesame+Catfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyr5iH0bI8BedAX9TrUxSdmmGlJhmrUtoRnf1ZDq43vl3W6ZJebyJWpciBey6TIeGlp9-IVSaayyP5AubCt_2E6d7rTMSgKV7Sq3iXdZRJ_sfHMTDdk_X2WS3Nm37A8IXu0ShTLxQjEJs/s320/Sesame+Catfish.jpg" width="239" /></a> </div>One of our guests of honor, Bonnie, ordered the Grilled Tuna Steak Sandwich. Marinated in orange juice and fresh ginger, the tuna steak would normally sit on a white or whole wheat bun with lettuce, tomato, pickles, red onions, and soy ginger mayonnaise, but Bonnie opted for no bun in lieu of homemade French fries. <br />
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Bonnie’s employment with Freebird’s Corporate Office is the reason we were graced with Bonnie’s presence in Austin, but it is also the reason she’s now leaving us after only a few short months. In honor of the wonderful service and friendship Bonnie offered us while here, I’ve decided to boycott Freebird’s for not properly acknowledging the gifts and talents of this vibrant, funny and intelligent woman and keeping her in Austin! I'm sure they'll go bankrupt shortly....HA!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oY6PH02xszwAIoMAtS4LKkUyrPTTxQfOQRHM-xtnzfMqWKXJfzNMLir4hkMVEbPM0c78sVSarYH5lYgmAySuzxtNY_-R7MQBU7R9kglsicS0nyJLy2YhvpGpeoyvNsC-qiMM7aN-MNU/s1600/Grilled+Tuna+Burger+sans+Bun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oY6PH02xszwAIoMAtS4LKkUyrPTTxQfOQRHM-xtnzfMqWKXJfzNMLir4hkMVEbPM0c78sVSarYH5lYgmAySuzxtNY_-R7MQBU7R9kglsicS0nyJLy2YhvpGpeoyvNsC-qiMM7aN-MNU/s320/Grilled+Tuna+Burger+sans+Bun.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Our ambitiously awesome Ambre, (yes, I spelled that right), who had to get back to work for a meeting before our group pictures were taken, had the Smoked Salmon and Shrimp Cake Salad tossed with lemon remoulade dressing, which looked scrumptious. We are...(cough)...sooooo glad...(cough, cough)...that she was able to share with us her stories of the odd foods she’s seen on Austin menus lately, such as frog legs, alligator and...(cough)...Rocky Mountain Oysters. (Adventurous eater that I am, I have eaten two out of those three “delicacies”, but I do have my limits.)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLNo06hq1MolIqOrnR6blZe9Dz1vf2JXHihICAWNmqU7LJYdKi-sKR1s_onA4x12hEcEVPbS123653ZMkbdx2PN7YTxptQHWmqwBQj4ItiopPzhNGBZQ3zTNGlL5hJn72VKkg-f2lbDg/s1600/Crab+Cakes+Salad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLNo06hq1MolIqOrnR6blZe9Dz1vf2JXHihICAWNmqU7LJYdKi-sKR1s_onA4x12hEcEVPbS123653ZMkbdx2PN7YTxptQHWmqwBQj4ItiopPzhNGBZQ3zTNGlL5hJn72VKkg-f2lbDg/s320/Crab+Cakes+Salad.jpg" width="239" /></a> </div>And, let us not forget supremely sweet Cindy, who appeared to be having an intimate relationship with her plate. She raved about the flavors of the Artichoke Manicotti. Her dish consisted of carrot pasta filled with artichoke hearts, mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, pistachios, ricotta, and mozzarella cheese. It was topped with sun-dried tomato cream sauce and parmesan cheese. At one point, after swallowing a bite, Cindy announced with an expression of exquisite satisfaction, “I am soooooo happy!” Take a peek at the dish that titillated Cindy’s taste buds.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnGVbyQ56_fkvNr3KKWo4inmH6Road_CqXqbtrDAnETwLlfFMeuVymBt04OCIcdd3Z1o6Lg4RPBmnxYUcENMikz_Kge_7jnCIvqA7SHGMk9KqYF8OZyyT1LxoXPIkmRyCmjLbLTxwtOE/s1600/Artichoke+and+Sundried+Tomato+Manicotti+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnGVbyQ56_fkvNr3KKWo4inmH6Road_CqXqbtrDAnETwLlfFMeuVymBt04OCIcdd3Z1o6Lg4RPBmnxYUcENMikz_Kge_7jnCIvqA7SHGMk9KqYF8OZyyT1LxoXPIkmRyCmjLbLTxwtOE/s320/Artichoke+and+Sundried+Tomato+Manicotti+%25282%2529.jpg" width="239" /></a> </div>Our other dear, departing sister (oh, that doesn’t sound quite right), Kathleen the Cake Queen, who is moving within the next week or so, ordered the Chicken Artichoke Heart Soup and the Butternut Squash. Kathleen, who has been one of the nursery leaders at church, watching over all those precious little bitty children of God, will sorely be missed! I understand her need to move closer to her aging mother, but I selfishly wish I could keep this sweet, lovely sister here. Kathleen is a certified <a href="http://www.wilton.com/">Wilton</a> Cake Decorating Instructor, ergo the title, The Cake Queen.<br />
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Last, but not least, our joyfully jaunty Joanne, the only one of us who had eaten before at Eastside Café and dares to wear the most gorgeous 4-inch heels I've ever seen, selected the pulled pork enchiladas for her entree, which looked divine! Those enchiladas must’ve been really good, too, because there was not a crumb left behind. Nummy! <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfCb_8m6KtRUbx0h5_8m41n3OuPMw-eKFpVcC0BU7gWC_MbHgyCecQYL8Aji1EMWsiOC6x3xRvaQ7eiS6TQIFIEOsZQeo6FRVd9RGCc0r8rUgSm_tWWIiCVCcYWAXtnD89mYosUH775I/s1600/Pulled+Pork+Enchiladas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfCb_8m6KtRUbx0h5_8m41n3OuPMw-eKFpVcC0BU7gWC_MbHgyCecQYL8Aji1EMWsiOC6x3xRvaQ7eiS6TQIFIEOsZQeo6FRVd9RGCc0r8rUgSm_tWWIiCVCcYWAXtnD89mYosUH775I/s320/Pulled+Pork+Enchiladas.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>After lunch, we hugged and hugged each other, knowing that those dear friends, who are leaving, remain in our hearts and we, who are left, are forever changed for the better. <br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>A man's growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends.</i> - Ralph Waldo Emerson </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">From <a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/121.7?lang=eng">The Doctrine & Covenants 127:7-9</a> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">7 …peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; </div><div style="text-align: left;">8 And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes. </div><div style="text-align: left;">9 Thy friends do stand by thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif-pzKQpdQQM1rR3uZUOBkrP-6DbD2WzXBHYN7eGSHeExmC0-eBtlg9x30tx8Y7MTQKg-lFUwbKJ0sHNJD3zxDMnPnhbuK0mjL-SJzibxBt7g0RCBZkIWmDquLeKMxZXbz0E87fIK1GCc/s1600/Three_Friends+by+Rolana+Ceckauskaite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif-pzKQpdQQM1rR3uZUOBkrP-6DbD2WzXBHYN7eGSHeExmC0-eBtlg9x30tx8Y7MTQKg-lFUwbKJ0sHNJD3zxDMnPnhbuK0mjL-SJzibxBt7g0RCBZkIWmDquLeKMxZXbz0E87fIK1GCc/s320/Three_Friends+by+Rolana+Ceckauskaite.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://dart.fine-art.com/aqd-asp-i_167017-buy-artlistinginfo.htm"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Three Friends</span></a><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> by Rolana Ceckauskaite<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Build Your Choir of Friends, Y'all!</span></strong> </div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-3895089434404544282012-04-01T22:02:00.004-05:002012-04-01T22:06:43.609-05:00Bubba Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWUnCL20ChjmES-JVNQKwbAlGB70BgCHie9M9Dz8J6HLVjsfwRoISsTIJJcTmPkWVwe__ag4PBw8FRS-lDlcDexbjX3tvTFGK9vgkLKAS0zGahKsLAYtq0cldXQd3SeyTpuI1d6X9GJfQ/s1600/Bubba+Keg+Plum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWUnCL20ChjmES-JVNQKwbAlGB70BgCHie9M9Dz8J6HLVjsfwRoISsTIJJcTmPkWVwe__ag4PBw8FRS-lDlcDexbjX3tvTFGK9vgkLKAS0zGahKsLAYtq0cldXQd3SeyTpuI1d6X9GJfQ/s1600/Bubba+Keg+Plum.jpg" /></a></div>Bubba....say the name out loud. C'mon, humor me! Wonderful, isn't it? When I was single, my son and I would joke about my imaginary boyfriend, Bubba. He was a good ol’ boy, a man who believed gravy is a beverage. I envisioned Bubba as a very large man, whose belly eclipsed his feet, a connoisseur of Road Kill Stew.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQem4ZLpt1KnsE2sdm99oLpcW1MTF-b1i1fB3SogtqXBA9X_ubCW9PYj3KQohcFt2D6sYgQncRo0z_R1_pe-IDIpiJ0YitNfKxdUnr9cFoBScL_nHdv7_zQLqEYZJ3HBgLWrM0CuE-tM/s1600/Bubba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQem4ZLpt1KnsE2sdm99oLpcW1MTF-b1i1fB3SogtqXBA9X_ubCW9PYj3KQohcFt2D6sYgQncRo0z_R1_pe-IDIpiJ0YitNfKxdUnr9cFoBScL_nHdv7_zQLqEYZJ3HBgLWrM0CuE-tM/s320/Bubba.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
After marrying Gene, he shared with me his Bubba Keg. I knew it was true love. The <a href="http://www.bubbabrands.com/product_line/classic/">Bubba Keg</a> is an ideal travel mug for real “drinkers” like me. As with my imaginary Bubba, the Bubba Keg is a big boy, larger at the top than the base, able to carry 32 ounces of my favorite beverage – hot or cold. This mega-mug accommodates plenty of soda, water or hot chocolate, keeping the cold drinks colder and my hot chocolate hotter longer! And, the base fits comfortably in my vehicle's drink holder.<br />
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Consider then the great deluge of disappointment when the lid to my Bubba Keg went missing last year. I searched and searched to no avail. Rendered lidless and ineffective, my defective Bubba Keg turned road trips into a sloppy, sloshy, sticky mess. I finally gave up and packed away the blemished Bubba Keg. <br />
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While my husband held out hope for the return of my missing Bubba Keg lid, I knew better. The unseen black hole of our house had certainly swallowed up another victim. I felt strongly that the Bubba Keg lid had joined the company of the mountains of misfit socks, my husband’s wedding ring, his Social Security Card, along with pairs of my glasses, rogue Scrabble pieces and all my favorite pens.<br />
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And speaking of missing socks, it appears Science is still working on that problem:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="215" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0vCYpG9ddIc?rel=0" width="425"></iframe><br />
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For the past year, Gene and I have searched unsuccessfully for a replacement Bubba Keg travel mug. On occasion, we have mistakenly thought other look-a-like mugs would work just as good. We were wrong. <br />
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I had totally given up hope, resorting instead to (lowering my voice to just a whisper, so all my “green” neighbors won’t hear) the large Styrofoam cups at the local convenience store. (Ssshhh! I heard your gasp!) <br />
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Then, yesterday while in Target, I made the most unexpected discovery on the automotive aisle – Bubba Kegs! Jalepeño!! I bought one in chrome and in plum – His and Hers Bubba Kegs! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56i0AjvcJdpKgTeyElqMNKflcXDGoAW1QsLH0_thhQXns1wluiyk9sJSgVtAcEHg4S1I_93OBjuFwf67gU5O4Omig_QbkybqtAnf8lou-F_C3vYQU9SAiVe2gLmH64MbGcuKa0U1Sdyc/s1600/Bubba5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56i0AjvcJdpKgTeyElqMNKflcXDGoAW1QsLH0_thhQXns1wluiyk9sJSgVtAcEHg4S1I_93OBjuFwf67gU5O4Omig_QbkybqtAnf8lou-F_C3vYQU9SAiVe2gLmH64MbGcuKa0U1Sdyc/s320/Bubba5.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
Ah yes, Life feels complete again. Can you say, “Road Trip?!” <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Bubba's Back, Y'all!</strong></span>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-84766902701841235232012-01-15T12:18:00.000-06:002012-01-15T12:18:25.143-06:00Hill Country Hideaway<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZEjJ0PhrXW2h5_lwjOkXGYKaAW8VscL9QLguR3h5wjQDyEV2lzL1OtqEE_9Jm75PPIVe5d2kE0TJ-H7eunGhYMOwHWVrq-fNNCjCgMGf4Gtii12hKyoMLC6g-K5e1DrzIW-5VjeEMIQ/s1600/Old+Friends_William+Martin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZEjJ0PhrXW2h5_lwjOkXGYKaAW8VscL9QLguR3h5wjQDyEV2lzL1OtqEE_9Jm75PPIVe5d2kE0TJ-H7eunGhYMOwHWVrq-fNNCjCgMGf4Gtii12hKyoMLC6g-K5e1DrzIW-5VjeEMIQ/s320/Old+Friends_William+Martin.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.galeria19.com/HTMLs/WilliamMartinFbg.html">"Old Friends" - William Martin</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">About an hour and a half west of Austin is one of our favorite weekend getaways – <a href="http://youtu.be/doGePdjhvUs">Fredericksburg, Texas</a>.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year for Christmas, we rented the <a href="http://www.absolutecharm.com/AdamsTrvsMain.html">Adams Travis House</a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Built in the late 1800s and originally located on the San Antonio River Walk, the structure was taken apart stone by stone and relocated to Fredericksburg in 1985 when in danger of being demolished. </span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVxU4BmqhYG2m8TKL4LsFjtPN4eLrCXxSFOc3L2Fc7Ptv8OEG-9dDWef3AoFUpKgNnOaGO6Zy47AI4D9uKoLbbnrlqFco5_-gs6ziplxxv_KyMyPuvvQ0Fe0n8IciM5tvcB8gTz6K3F0/s1600/Adams+Travis+House_front.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVxU4BmqhYG2m8TKL4LsFjtPN4eLrCXxSFOc3L2Fc7Ptv8OEG-9dDWef3AoFUpKgNnOaGO6Zy47AI4D9uKoLbbnrlqFco5_-gs6ziplxxv_KyMyPuvvQ0Fe0n8IciM5tvcB8gTz6K3F0/s320/Adams+Travis+House_front.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This lovely stone cottage was very charming indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With 16” stone walls throughout, the rustic home made me feel like I had taken a step back in time. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAvjgsm38jgpO_Ya1k7Ai_WgVCGW8pIj4a_vGBY64eswZl1eg6GpPeTOd7jg87hxVeBvbwOAqbFoBivp_S4X7c9F-WVVR1y5upRSfiz8a9A3Tqcs-FSky0_GLT5-am19U4WgFCVWw_hU/s1600/Adams+Travis+House+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAvjgsm38jgpO_Ya1k7Ai_WgVCGW8pIj4a_vGBY64eswZl1eg6GpPeTOd7jg87hxVeBvbwOAqbFoBivp_S4X7c9F-WVVR1y5upRSfiz8a9A3Tqcs-FSky0_GLT5-am19U4WgFCVWw_hU/s320/Adams+Travis+House+1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">View into the living room</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZ1ZFUmDzWPM-7gry2lQ-4UXqBw9krLdu_92JGg1ylxEJpSYECRUA_xo9SiQT5XJN-LFRFAdRW8dC5J9WHAfCeW3T6Y77NDxtGN__BZRX56dvOtslx2LxPtPVc-jFGxPT6S_b2Fsitps/s1600/Adams+Travis+House_living+room1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZ1ZFUmDzWPM-7gry2lQ-4UXqBw9krLdu_92JGg1ylxEJpSYECRUA_xo9SiQT5XJN-LFRFAdRW8dC5J9WHAfCeW3T6Y77NDxtGN__BZRX56dvOtslx2LxPtPVc-jFGxPT6S_b2Fsitps/s320/Adams+Travis+House_living+room1.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">View toward back of living room</span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yet, we had all the modern amenities. Arriving on Christmas Eve, the cottage was decorated inside and out with multi-colored Christmas lights, creating a warm, festive environment to celebrate the holiday.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5z99Qpm0aSAjSJQK5h5mZwm-hhOp0j10Vppq9g8sj-T_HZjvjdr1p25ueo7QBbS0ND7ysXRZll4GWFTayr_ZAHTW4Q06I0RlpMvk1S36rwvKfCXExJOZWszOm8QCve6OQnoqZiRJ9QiY/s1600/Adams+Travis+House_living+room3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5z99Qpm0aSAjSJQK5h5mZwm-hhOp0j10Vppq9g8sj-T_HZjvjdr1p25ueo7QBbS0ND7ysXRZll4GWFTayr_ZAHTW4Q06I0RlpMvk1S36rwvKfCXExJOZWszOm8QCve6OQnoqZiRJ9QiY/s320/Adams+Travis+House_living+room3.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To our surprise there was a fully stocked kitchen. Had we known, we would've brought groceries with us to cook a Christmas meal. </span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigA4Hw9-5rsmzU6alAodUjFiXh3-9iZgUbfDgXwn_fzPNA4ar8CIKnDvuaZvwBPYPc1lV_ojJES-JXd0hZwBfaKKFNSGqHDR4lh0oKS1Sxpp3TL5xnWMm-kfwNXxRl-w-oovxQ_T81cag/s1600/Adams+Travis+House+_kitchen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigA4Hw9-5rsmzU6alAodUjFiXh3-9iZgUbfDgXwn_fzPNA4ar8CIKnDvuaZvwBPYPc1lV_ojJES-JXd0hZwBfaKKFNSGqHDR4lh0oKS1Sxpp3TL5xnWMm-kfwNXxRl-w-oovxQ_T81cag/s320/Adams+Travis+House+_kitchen.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After unpacking, we made our first planned stop at the <a href="http://www.fredericksburgherbfarm.com/">Fredericksburg Herb Farm</a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As you might imagine, The Fredericksburg Herb Farm grows its own herbs. But, they have so much more.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwGs2eNB0KlfeWso34rQa130vfVVCDBpZziY8goI02KLSPzHVisMdcWRpI798zA4UBh6SMHRNat8EG5TQMRCsh_Xm6UoFE9f34yml85dKdnGaQVcX3RKkMpKYEmu1ntJMbX9ucHeOPWc/s1600/Herb+Farm+restaurant.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwGs2eNB0KlfeWso34rQa130vfVVCDBpZziY8goI02KLSPzHVisMdcWRpI798zA4UBh6SMHRNat8EG5TQMRCsh_Xm6UoFE9f34yml85dKdnGaQVcX3RKkMpKYEmu1ntJMbX9ucHeOPWc/s320/Herb+Farm+restaurant.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The compound includes a restaurant, day spa, cabins, gift shop, garden and farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9JFQYpa6u6D64mloPs2-Qu93y9TaW1EwhVpNEUyeEWu9GF6q6uA1w5vdvbOuDMhXU9gg3ZIziuoO7zC-pMXA1yPYNJfppaI02ZjEkplLtQcqSXmVJwLaNlJC1mNYnl_F4Sogf_QywIo/s1600/Herb+Farm+gift+shop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9JFQYpa6u6D64mloPs2-Qu93y9TaW1EwhVpNEUyeEWu9GF6q6uA1w5vdvbOuDMhXU9gg3ZIziuoO7zC-pMXA1yPYNJfppaI02ZjEkplLtQcqSXmVJwLaNlJC1mNYnl_F4Sogf_QywIo/s320/Herb+Farm+gift+shop.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The gift shop had a wonderful array of homemade herbal body lotions, bath gels and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The scent as we entered inside the shop was simply divine! Christmas ornaments, garden art and essential oils were also featured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWLHFEHZaTfZ1-gtt3Mo4lZJ9FE9lQCnU1dFE1TH8THlhe9P1L3IelPxzk71zEGAitIZUmfSzo1YD1sK8bOI0yRdLZDQvbB8XYdeKymueqOTpMiCxm6maVznu9lzWbIlgXpcije7OtW0/s1600/Nobility+Santa+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWLHFEHZaTfZ1-gtt3Mo4lZJ9FE9lQCnU1dFE1TH8THlhe9P1L3IelPxzk71zEGAitIZUmfSzo1YD1sK8bOI0yRdLZDQvbB8XYdeKymueqOTpMiCxm6maVznu9lzWbIlgXpcije7OtW0/s320/Nobility+Santa+1.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found a Santa by Nobility to add to my Christmas collection, which had a secret compartment.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9XsdnVczHvYsmEUlrv-MrzfnlX-iaFTjj6fxif7oesRuHD4dftkFXToxCaQh_6AVI9VUmFSmjczm2RSXfFU74f-1bzP2tnTw4AncBuiGZX332eE3Scekjo9wG2V3P2pd_zAVb0-AutoQ/s1600/Nobility+Santa+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9XsdnVczHvYsmEUlrv-MrzfnlX-iaFTjj6fxif7oesRuHD4dftkFXToxCaQh_6AVI9VUmFSmjczm2RSXfFU74f-1bzP2tnTw4AncBuiGZX332eE3Scekjo9wG2V3P2pd_zAVb0-AutoQ/s320/Nobility+Santa+2.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We toured the garden and decided a return trip in the Spring would be a must to see everything blooming.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaH4gLaOnr9ISopl5s3B3dsUjhpY0mUh9eNSfEvjs1STc5kR8blB0nZrnNFw99hpTmlNgpLgZtWUOcJjTI1p-OVsCb-Ib3w5VcBJFydRtBatXW6ybshzAJuDA57_w1btBQyFho1K52Owc/s1600/Herb+Farm+garden_Gene2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaH4gLaOnr9ISopl5s3B3dsUjhpY0mUh9eNSfEvjs1STc5kR8blB0nZrnNFw99hpTmlNgpLgZtWUOcJjTI1p-OVsCb-Ib3w5VcBJFydRtBatXW6ybshzAJuDA57_w1btBQyFho1K52Owc/s320/Herb+Farm+garden_Gene2.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found the perfect tree for the Texas drought, one that needs no watering, of the iron variety.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxU9GDSqSownNAEHz5hFrZsi7ZMznceP9loEUHcG9HG3LNJEPHEKvlVmnImtV59vkjZt-KQNqoXVjOPOnZ1zmiEQP5bJQQ43wkVxUpCU_Dlx7CgNkO4_fxmBQcjWyhRUvJriYS1oGtFw/s1600/Herb+Farm+tree+sculpture1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxU9GDSqSownNAEHz5hFrZsi7ZMznceP9loEUHcG9HG3LNJEPHEKvlVmnImtV59vkjZt-KQNqoXVjOPOnZ1zmiEQP5bJQQ43wkVxUpCU_Dlx7CgNkO4_fxmBQcjWyhRUvJriYS1oGtFw/s320/Herb+Farm+tree+sculpture1.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We opted for an early dinner at the Herb Farm's restaurant called the <a href="http://www.fredericksburgherbfarm.com/restaurant.htm">Farm Haus Bistro</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZeujhzcpaU6xBYKLKKP_cXGLhDkcv3Btd-xnLPcoGzhFTh79JVSbsAvlFtLH1AsAWZ0n86S3g7Xn7FGnbp-nUKU9wHfb3rtbJGNplxot5cyCcg7yI4CDPoDj4sGGpaA-mFdGwetEMBs/s1600/Herb+Farm+restaurant_Grayson2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZeujhzcpaU6xBYKLKKP_cXGLhDkcv3Btd-xnLPcoGzhFTh79JVSbsAvlFtLH1AsAWZ0n86S3g7Xn7FGnbp-nUKU9wHfb3rtbJGNplxot5cyCcg7yI4CDPoDj4sGGpaA-mFdGwetEMBs/s320/Herb+Farm+restaurant_Grayson2.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We knew we were in for some tasty treats when we sampled the homemade focaccia bread and herb butter. The delicious bread was extra crisp on the outside and chewy on the inside. Gene is still talking about that bread!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3s_qJRqsZHohSAYDhVb5wRphe3H7s5VrSPdmshDXynP-k6y6-uUo5-Fxrfp1szGgOdcLayJ1Gb-8ySPyDCG1A0zDKJ2qacF8uDdIc_PLXVNDc9SDbytWnWH3b3tfimHTJnYyEiwn6MgM/s1600/Herb+Farm+restaurant+bread.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3s_qJRqsZHohSAYDhVb5wRphe3H7s5VrSPdmshDXynP-k6y6-uUo5-Fxrfp1szGgOdcLayJ1Gb-8ySPyDCG1A0zDKJ2qacF8uDdIc_PLXVNDc9SDbytWnWH3b3tfimHTJnYyEiwn6MgM/s320/Herb+Farm+restaurant+bread.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We chowed down on our entrees so fast, that there was no time for picture taking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gene had the bacon-wrapped meatloaf with garlic mashed potatoes and a fresh spinach and mushroom medley, which was very tasty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I selected the cheeseburger, topped with fresh greens, and French fries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> As hamburger connoisseurs, </span>Gene and I both agreed that the cheeseburger's high quality beef had an excellent flavor and was out-of-sight good!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJzaR4v2BfrKGOKD9xFBr14-LIJUhMtxU88X2r2UxSczq-m1Im6WUud32cJ1LnkDBA68Cv9uE-Kt3dGlDnuraeJNeRZ_6khtTNXConAvmXrW_bOnJElZ37jLDxGuD4iRyTPcA62ZF3dQ/s1600/Herb+Farm+cheeseburger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJzaR4v2BfrKGOKD9xFBr14-LIJUhMtxU88X2r2UxSczq-m1Im6WUud32cJ1LnkDBA68Cv9uE-Kt3dGlDnuraeJNeRZ_6khtTNXConAvmXrW_bOnJElZ37jLDxGuD4iRyTPcA62ZF3dQ/s1600/Herb+Farm+cheeseburger.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After our meal, we drove into town to tour the art galleries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our first stop was Whistle Pik Gallery, and although it was closed for the holidays, Gene managed to introduce himself to the one and only President Ronald Reagan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He really is larger than life!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDY1NoWiNM3r38xZosdV8Bv6dD-_bPX5H8iI4MUKWn_db4odglmuj_U0o_yU5Qd1nK46A5s49AhwKV88rVfJTN3a2MiwpXVX2m2Kyk9a-OzCeV6BRh5oEkvfliYB2k_babJw0JkMhVp0/s1600/Whistle+Pik+Gallery_Ronald+Regan.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDY1NoWiNM3r38xZosdV8Bv6dD-_bPX5H8iI4MUKWn_db4odglmuj_U0o_yU5Qd1nK46A5s49AhwKV88rVfJTN3a2MiwpXVX2m2Kyk9a-OzCeV6BRh5oEkvfliYB2k_babJw0JkMhVp0/s320/Whistle+Pik+Gallery_Ronald+Regan.JPG" width="239" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Fredericksburg Good Art Company featured work by a Texas artist, <a href="http://jrgelfert.fineartstudioonline.com/about">Judy Gelfert</a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, whose hill country impressionist landscapes I liked very much.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_21636979"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyFYm9VWM2mYx3DFHN5IPvaAa9EoNavS1npTF8zHD0CGYBT50chvmz5uVAp6e4LW5InMA3JjESuEYIimmQoOLpy_hNIlrbnxtr9iezlEehe_wkNtYfwheQslRljn7DL9b-ImGwm-i0qc/s1600/creekside_Judy+Gelfert.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://jrgelfert.fineartstudioonline.com/works/636092/creekside">"Creekside" - Judy Gelfert</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">t Galeria 19, a new art gallery on Main Street, Gene’s attention was captured by the work of <a href="http://www.artauctionsanmiguel.com/index.php?lengua=eng&pagina=main&subseccion=1281537728&musica_status=ON&seller_id=1281537728">William Martin</a> from San Miguel de Allende, who painted “Old Friends” (at the top of this blog).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gene also really liked William Martin’s “Still Life”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmjwVZW6Bqj-aPVXENkXugsWpSQjej85RS1VffzZFWkeiiMhnxIgjTY_UlahIatTPaOFGh3ukPlHR3Lj-mHiGV178rgifb2CflB7JDUdUMfeqcjTOg-ndAFQe0dpy9lZY6MeSlII4TSQ/s320/Still+Life_William+Martin_jpg.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.galeria19.com/HTMLs/StillLife.html">"Still Life" - William Martin</a></td></tr>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The piece I was most captivated by at Galeria 19 was “San Miguel Series #093” by <a href="http://www.galeria19.com/HTMLs/RheaGaryBio.html">Rhea Gary</a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was immediately drawn to the entire series, but this work stood out as my favorite.</span></o:p><br />
<br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0IhTumRfUgstvPQruFWPexCAgOCNXuzayrO2A7PG8AkVjYQorJpV_oEj5j7NmuL4scCZvNAwf_Exg-fC1bcfOXkzla5gkfnT3hKeMI8dhPI6r7ZNruA_h-HkjjpIICLakEwaPt5jvcVg/s320/San+Miguel+Series_Rhea+Gary.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.galeria19.com/HTMLs/SanMiguelSerie093.html">"San Miguel Series #093" - Rhea Gary</a></td></tr>
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<o:p><o:p><span style="font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Art is so subjective, and we had a great time expressing our tastes and preferences, as well as drinking in the warm hospitality of the gallery owners and employees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With our creative appetite sated, we headed back to our home away from home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p><o:p><span style="font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the fire blazed in the fireplace, Gene read his book and I quilted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Together we enjoyed the peaceful stillness and joy of Christmas in the Hill Country.</span></span></o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1X1EGiNaCEIZSnmF-W8jy-QKXF6sfnqynYv4A1To4-NYiV4G9oH94StraqQq0NLbdJzU20L9hP-aHm34XThqyM3K4F2Efe9m6yJxkxzIiMIRF6DhX7QlcYVPvZCtJ4OGDZErKI3Arppk/s1600/Adams+Travis+House+_fireplace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1X1EGiNaCEIZSnmF-W8jy-QKXF6sfnqynYv4A1To4-NYiV4G9oH94StraqQq0NLbdJzU20L9hP-aHm34XThqyM3K4F2Efe9m6yJxkxzIiMIRF6DhX7QlcYVPvZCtJ4OGDZErKI3Arppk/s320/Adams+Travis+House+_fireplace.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Luke 2:10-14</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, saying,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Peace on Earth, Y'all!</strong></span></div><div uri="/scriptures/nt/luke/2.14"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div></div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-50396813440494847692011-12-10T23:09:00.000-06:002011-12-10T23:09:31.908-06:00Gone 'Pausal<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfC70qyNLBLj4JkxELsf5nb73jG_9wo8lPD7lJltoDc4yaRXSXPlQ0487xKDZ9DX9AcUTT6L8IpeIDDw9-MbwCU2YlCpRTQbe5-cSyNvoJphgaU-PZ58FYCrvJCCBJw0MFHvsE6XlyqU/s1600/shocked-suzanne-marie-leclair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfC70qyNLBLj4JkxELsf5nb73jG_9wo8lPD7lJltoDc4yaRXSXPlQ0487xKDZ9DX9AcUTT6L8IpeIDDw9-MbwCU2YlCpRTQbe5-cSyNvoJphgaU-PZ58FYCrvJCCBJw0MFHvsE6XlyqU/s320/shocked-suzanne-marie-leclair.jpg" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=shocked+art+painting&hl=en&gbv=2&biw=1536&bih=702&tbm=isch&tbnid=Sus_0WVxmtWLnM:&imgrefurl=http://fineartamerica.com/featured/shocked-suzanne-marie-leclair.html&docid=NkFyqhZh4SCyqM&imgurl=http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium/shocked-suzanne-marie-leclair.jpg&w=554&h=700&ei=dCbkTvavEpLW2wX07KHCBA&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=435&vpy=137&dur=290&hovh=252&hovw=200&tx=122&ty=97&sig=105767752524851571827&page=1&tbnh=172&tbnw=136&start=0&ndsp=22&ved=1t:429,r:2,s:0">"Shocked" by Suzanne Marie Leclair</a></td></tr>
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Momma said there would be days like this...<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WQlImg2bm28" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
...and so did my doctor.<br />
<br />
I call it “going 'pausal”. <br />
<br />
Last year while reviewing with me some of the <a href="http://www.project-aware.org/Experience/symptoms.shtml">symptoms of menopause</a>, my doctor asked if I had experienced any sudden bouts of irritability. No, I really didn’t think so (insert husband smiling and rolling eyes here). But, recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that I indeed may suffer from this symptom, and so may all those within my sphere of influence.<br />
<br />
It was an uneventful evening, like any other, sitting in front of the TV, zoning out after work, when a commercial came on that captured my attention. It wasn’t apparent what product was being advertised. Must be a new movie, I thought. The screen displayed images of strong women from eras long gone. <br />
<br />
“It’s the cradle of life.” Is that supposed to be the mother of Moses, I wondered?<br />
<br />
“It’s the center of Civilization.” Cleopatra. I was intrigued. The epic-sounding music crescendoed.<br />
<br />
“Men have fought for it…” Two Japanese men leapt into the air, fending off one another with big sticks, a Japanese beauty waiting in the wings. <br />
<br />
“…even died for it.” Two jousting medieval knights clash. <br />
<br />
As the satisfied noblewoman smiles at her favored champion, we hear, “One might say it’s the most powerful thing on earth.” <br />
<br />
The music then cues the audience that we have reached the climactic moment when the goal of this visual enticement will be unveiled. <br />
<br />
The next scene shows a woman picking up a bottle of Summers Eve vaginal wash off the grocery shelf. <br />
<br />
And, then we hear, “All hail the V.”<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="314" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4_zJwLZ49zM" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
That was the moment I went 'pausal.<br />
<br />
What?!! Are you kidding me?!! “The V?!!” <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFN4MgjFExuhYdJ-iWtiY4do-HN9rEL0BkkGkef5rTQzS-2GS_rsfoJpABsT83s9QC6Ncj2j0RHmymgHGZq6t28dWpOvlY5SZ-_jps3zOLKD6Dz5tI5yFD_yHMTvz7HEH325GKKjagXao/s1600/Picasso_Head+of+a+Woman+with+a+Hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFN4MgjFExuhYdJ-iWtiY4do-HN9rEL0BkkGkef5rTQzS-2GS_rsfoJpABsT83s9QC6Ncj2j0RHmymgHGZq6t28dWpOvlY5SZ-_jps3zOLKD6Dz5tI5yFD_yHMTvz7HEH325GKKjagXao/s320/Picasso_Head+of+a+Woman+with+a+Hat.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Head of a Woman with a Hat" by Pablo Picasso</td></tr>
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I snapped. I began yelling at the TV, spewing forth the full measure of my thoughts about the makers of this utterly unnecessary feminine hygiene product. I was so incensed; I grabbed my laptop and began to pound upon the keys churning out a scathing email to the makers of this ridiculous wash. <br />
<br />
Women’s bodies are divinely made, with a perfect pH of their own and in no need of a scented vaginal wash! I realized this propaganda was targeted at young women, who might be self-conscious of their own body and natural scent because of such a product and commercial, and that infuriated me more.<br />
<br />
Had Summer’s Eve ever even considered making a PENIS WASH?!! No, of course not!<br />
<br />
A few minutes later, not feeling fully vindicated, I decided the topic was worthy of my Facebook page, and feverishly began to jab the tiny screen of my iPhone with one of my menopausal fingers, sharing my thoughts about this atrocity with my 300+ Facebook friends. I hit the SEND button.<br />
<br />
As the screen returned from the little comment box to the page, I suddenly realized I was not on <i>my</i> Facebook page at all. I was on my church’s Young Single Adult Facebook Page. “CRAP!!” I yelled, as I frantically found and pressed the REMOVE button. Of course, a blunder such as this did go out by email to all subscribers of that page before I could correct my mistake. (Insert big sigh.)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjx0a7V-4BrLI-XeazEEuvQ4I6zsfR1J6ZvpNv_WTlzkT_9ZfoI12dkU9tPf3hm9vPBv78aCxBIz40C2N4nRaQqTJI7Xrw9yvO_EIAbhyphenhyphennKvOdiQ8QxbAniOT06fM8ZodFs17M1givq1I/s1600/Blush+by+Fei+Liu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjx0a7V-4BrLI-XeazEEuvQ4I6zsfR1J6ZvpNv_WTlzkT_9ZfoI12dkU9tPf3hm9vPBv78aCxBIz40C2N4nRaQqTJI7Xrw9yvO_EIAbhyphenhyphennKvOdiQ8QxbAniOT06fM8ZodFs17M1givq1I/s320/Blush+by+Fei+Liu.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://feipaintings.com/pp/pp12.html">"Blush" by Fei Liu</a></td></tr>
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If only I had a robot like Will Robinson’s that would warn me of pending danger and stupid things I would do in life. Oh yes, if only I were lost in space. I guess “spacey” will just have to do for now.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH3OebtxEbC_mGdMPX6z_5Wq8c4MGjVc3ljfCnVqw8wYivdFfH1RwmnzPoxfkoLNFpGcRxTenrxPYbcBYDYMTPOEfzI-7qgA2NrFC4OVlJ_v9-IbRPlImtWBNpcMT63q3yd9Fmo73Sx1Q/s1600/Robot+%2526+Will+Robinson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH3OebtxEbC_mGdMPX6z_5Wq8c4MGjVc3ljfCnVqw8wYivdFfH1RwmnzPoxfkoLNFpGcRxTenrxPYbcBYDYMTPOEfzI-7qgA2NrFC4OVlJ_v9-IbRPlImtWBNpcMT63q3yd9Fmo73Sx1Q/s320/Robot+%2526+Will+Robinson.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><br />
"Every speaker has a mouth; An arrangement rather neat. Sometimes it's filled with wisdom. Sometimes it's filled with feet." ~Robert Orben<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">All Hell to Summer's Eve, Y'all!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-34274266065196558532011-11-12T15:12:00.001-06:002011-11-12T15:26:27.167-06:00Purple People Palate Pleaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFFpfI3RBz313fCqx5IW7Mi-IcdJEQ-8BPFnbnaaOS3bGbxJ5XL4EPLqhD3K2HaaCrRHHvWS5euXjn2RwSdu-lHXT1S7XyfnCEejsmeZ37lqqM-EudGsjumVkayNGV7uTnjt-ctqYbmY/s1600/Purple+Bean+Sign_3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFFpfI3RBz313fCqx5IW7Mi-IcdJEQ-8BPFnbnaaOS3bGbxJ5XL4EPLqhD3K2HaaCrRHHvWS5euXjn2RwSdu-lHXT1S7XyfnCEejsmeZ37lqqM-EudGsjumVkayNGV7uTnjt-ctqYbmY/s1600/Purple+Bean+Sign_3.JPG" /></a></div>In Thailand, purple is worn by a widow mourning her husband's death. In Tibet, amethyst is considered to be sacred to Buddha and rosaries are often fashioned from it. In Japan the color purple signifies wealth and position. Purple denotes virtue and faith in Egypt. In Tennessee and Virginia, the purple bean is a freshwater, bottom-feeding mussel found in fast-moving streams.<br />
<br />
But, in Austin, Texas,<span style="color: #555555;"> <a href="http://thepurplebeancafe.com/">The Purple Bean Café</a>, </span>at 1200 E. 11<sup>th</sup> (the corner of 11<sup>th</sup> & Lydia), is the place to please your palate.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87jhFPGVWjxw8IkYPPpmj6K7CQYN1h7KEaqRBBdixvm29hBkD_I8EnvDxkdgHQIOXmMdwiShvc5dMOMzPrnlQy64coApwG3gSbB_ZfZhhwRajser8QQHnU0-oCluNiw49qKl1eZdoFvk/s1600/Purple+Bean+Directional+Sign_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87jhFPGVWjxw8IkYPPpmj6K7CQYN1h7KEaqRBBdixvm29hBkD_I8EnvDxkdgHQIOXmMdwiShvc5dMOMzPrnlQy64coApwG3gSbB_ZfZhhwRajser8QQHnU0-oCluNiw49qKl1eZdoFvk/s320/Purple+Bean+Directional+Sign_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Yesterday, I had a hankerin’ for an adventurous lunch sandwich. Consulting the bookmarks I’d set on my Yelp iPhone app for local eateries, I decided on The Purple Bean Café. Although primarily known for its coffee drinks, many of the reviewers mentioned the yummy breakfast and lunch sandwiches that I decided it was time for me to partake. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTcIehGc9LKBQXOpGXLy7g4a3Z861YR6eX8IaihO3lG52oWD-9Igr_rxU4_p2v2rS4Stg6nWGNo0lKKC8_o8FSO4MdMhWSpD0WDSXO6ojP1I8XlZVnr9jcM-b3G-iHQEJN1_zl_siFkrs/s1600/Purple+Bean+Trailer_2_111111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTcIehGc9LKBQXOpGXLy7g4a3Z861YR6eX8IaihO3lG52oWD-9Igr_rxU4_p2v2rS4Stg6nWGNo0lKKC8_o8FSO4MdMhWSpD0WDSXO6ojP1I8XlZVnr9jcM-b3G-iHQEJN1_zl_siFkrs/s320/Purple+Bean+Trailer_2_111111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Stellar service and delicious sandwiches were the Specials of the Day at the Purple Bean Café! I was greeted at the window by Kali, who sported a great big smile and was patient as I asked my questions and snapped my blog photos. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMla4r-iox52F3dBoIkQYtvTiqjmSLkjgOvlPKtm74fckYuELuWgzygtotkglw8WeY92-4WkYTo0IGxGCTrCf17_sjaC1Km2cEUr5KNxUPAw9WtCEuXexZHHP2ZhfF-VvkWUmm-epfSm0/s1600/Kali_111111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMla4r-iox52F3dBoIkQYtvTiqjmSLkjgOvlPKtm74fckYuELuWgzygtotkglw8WeY92-4WkYTo0IGxGCTrCf17_sjaC1Km2cEUr5KNxUPAw9WtCEuXexZHHP2ZhfF-VvkWUmm-epfSm0/s320/Kali_111111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Behind her, the bustling trailer cooks were feverish and friendly as Lavalle (a.k.a. Momma), with her purple-tinted hair and fun-spirited attitude, gladly stopped mid-sandwich for a pose.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvPI3WP7jVUTQ4UXyyZzqrUjzKlmrcY8ipHAc9kUkUFfhRh_dhVS4OiVpA2UHsBfYNv96LJxkD3vcAldgFWZ823trzCooVgfE_eJNvjX3VcjelslHxYQQIXa9jjsjrr1dCE9xaaL38abM/s1600/Lavelle+%2528Momma%2529_111111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvPI3WP7jVUTQ4UXyyZzqrUjzKlmrcY8ipHAc9kUkUFfhRh_dhVS4OiVpA2UHsBfYNv96LJxkD3vcAldgFWZ823trzCooVgfE_eJNvjX3VcjelslHxYQQIXa9jjsjrr1dCE9xaaL38abM/s320/Lavelle+%2528Momma%2529_111111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I regretfully admit that Gene and I ate our sammiches so fast, I didn’t even have time to snap a picture of them. As a first time patron of the Purple Bean, I ordered the Muffaletta and the Texan. The menu described the Muffaletta as “a meaty, New Orleans style sammich with Genoa Salami, Turkey Pastrami, our own Smokey olive/sundried tomato spread, melted provolone cheeez, sliced tomato, onion, fresh basil, served on a toasted Ciabatta roll.” Mmm….it was delicious! The olive/sundried tomato spread was a wonderful alternative to mustard or mayo, tying the flavors all together with a slight hint of sweetness.<br />
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The Texan, though, was my favorite, and was billed on the menu as “Modeled after a Chicago Style hot dog, this big boy uses local pork-venison sausage topped with melted Provolone cheese, Bavarian Sauerkraut, Spicy Mustard, Sweet Relish, Sliced tomato, onions, and fresh basil. A very sloppy sammich that brings a symphony of flavors to your mouth.” Need I say more? Of course I do! <br />
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The sausage was extremely nummy and juicy. But, the sauerkraut is what made this sandwich so special. It was very mild and sweet, which I did not expect, and it did not detract from the other flavors or textures. The onions were also sweet, not hot, and the sweet relish was a perfect complement to the meat. The Texan is most definitely a Purple People Pleaser in my book!<br />
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Each sandwich comes with a choice of chips. I also ordered the fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert. For a little over $13.00 for two sandwiches, two bags of chips and two cookies, my pocketbook was properly pleased! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKWKSmUxw9A0HshLIQoPSBnl8SpGR6DVzrwL7MGL2pOzcjGvhaXaZv923vDXWfVnXjUktgw-5HI5ZmM18ZDOBFPIYSgiBfs2nf3LdUO_qeYX1hvGBdyozhCMlGk0bF2fQB2tOQzjh3s8I/s1600/Purple+Bean+Courtyard_111111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKWKSmUxw9A0HshLIQoPSBnl8SpGR6DVzrwL7MGL2pOzcjGvhaXaZv923vDXWfVnXjUktgw-5HI5ZmM18ZDOBFPIYSgiBfs2nf3LdUO_qeYX1hvGBdyozhCMlGk0bF2fQB2tOQzjh3s8I/s320/Purple+Bean+Courtyard_111111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Top all that frolicking friendliness and fantastic food with fabulous flora and sidewalk chalk, and you have a recipe for success! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZfNFb1aBtA8mbwCdihL36-32l58t2UG9LE3GSFyX9Jh27BDiQvotX2ZDNrlaBu3R82LpsjSVaT8R2GZU9j-xjRi9xbaag8f8-wRGR2UtNntm4QoGczZgCTngXNAS4fy-ITRhsoDXn4Y/s1600/Grayson+Was+Here_3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZfNFb1aBtA8mbwCdihL36-32l58t2UG9LE3GSFyX9Jh27BDiQvotX2ZDNrlaBu3R82LpsjSVaT8R2GZU9j-xjRi9xbaag8f8-wRGR2UtNntm4QoGczZgCTngXNAS4fy-ITRhsoDXn4Y/s320/Grayson+Was+Here_3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This is a child-friendly and dog-friendly atmosphere that is not to be missed. <div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-UqZXT8eXmHdWIpk_LCBTzFC5CXRKIaMqVksNhqezeRPsjajbhsB4leSur0veiX0X3IZbSYcN5BqmCEcYdT1bdc7KkR2TL5hLoei0PQBTYX4m6abQfvTCE76w2Te_-oPNVESxa9y4Is/s1600/Dogs+Are+Welcome.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-UqZXT8eXmHdWIpk_LCBTzFC5CXRKIaMqVksNhqezeRPsjajbhsB4leSur0veiX0X3IZbSYcN5BqmCEcYdT1bdc7KkR2TL5hLoei0PQBTYX4m6abQfvTCE76w2Te_-oPNVESxa9y4Is/s320/Dogs+Are+Welcome.JPG" width="182" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">However, if you really don’t have time to linger, fret not, my friends! Phone in your Purple Bean Café order first by calling 512-820-9707. You can also find out what others are saying about The Purple Bean Café on their Facebook page.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XSdKS_SQGNKV43cG-ej4FkyTvqFJ-fzm7HdCQno7Twp4dK8IGHqdD5Khr8gPwQ5EpKPRQy6KU7VHwWrROlrkb76mzL76lHPCLG0pvWvfCcehwpDuNfKKSmVLFn2cwYJIkf8HzCiOWHs/s1600/Purple+Bean+customers+111111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XSdKS_SQGNKV43cG-ej4FkyTvqFJ-fzm7HdCQno7Twp4dK8IGHqdD5Khr8gPwQ5EpKPRQy6KU7VHwWrROlrkb76mzL76lHPCLG0pvWvfCcehwpDuNfKKSmVLFn2cwYJIkf8HzCiOWHs/s320/Purple+Bean+customers+111111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.” --Alice Walker </span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Eat Sweet at The Purple Bean Café, Y’all!</span></b><br />
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</div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-54908913430325968382011-10-27T17:03:00.000-05:002011-10-27T17:03:21.633-05:00Return to Wonderment<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08mbfHEGWUwhTbzEBi9eQXAmJdYBRBrW-EAw6N7hwTn8LUy364a9NN8VgzoQE3L81l2tKtjPz-d4Ld1H-h-NDrEnXqmvVvdDdWowvIdvYPvSY0O_I3C3KdH6HksZnNVBG-AaccXp9Gmk/s1600/Cafe+Terrace+at+Night_van+Gogh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08mbfHEGWUwhTbzEBi9eQXAmJdYBRBrW-EAw6N7hwTn8LUy364a9NN8VgzoQE3L81l2tKtjPz-d4Ld1H-h-NDrEnXqmvVvdDdWowvIdvYPvSY0O_I3C3KdH6HksZnNVBG-AaccXp9Gmk/s320/Cafe+Terrace+at+Night_van+Gogh.jpg" width="266px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cafe Terrace at Night - Vincent van Gogh</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
To celebrate my return home from a week-long business trip, my husband took me out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, the <a href="http://www.southcongresscafe.com/">South Congress Café</a>. Located at 1600 South Congress Avenue in Austin, this eclectic restaurant sits smack dab in the middle of the funky fun SoCo neighborhood. <br />
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We were seated at a window booth, and I was struck by the stickiness of the table. When I mentioned it to the waitress, she explained that the tables were in the process of being refinished, and ours had not yet been done. But, the arrival of our salads made me forget all about that.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TlAB3N3cai8OVIBkLLJ2puy3dk9XDFY-AEfawL1xvkG4nXA63Ia9Sa1RINdxIlCe7h-EO2mnyJXHEBOY02ce8ddLxmRk32oxkcpT-obE0l45yU9oKu7fLCNlIl2ULkvVdUfE75eWKDU/s1600/Caprese+Salad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TlAB3N3cai8OVIBkLLJ2puy3dk9XDFY-AEfawL1xvkG4nXA63Ia9Sa1RINdxIlCe7h-EO2mnyJXHEBOY02ce8ddLxmRk32oxkcpT-obE0l45yU9oKu7fLCNlIl2ULkvVdUfE75eWKDU/s320/Caprese+Salad.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I ordered the Caprese Salad, a simple combination of fresh heirloom tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella cheese, homemade pesto and pine nuts, drizzled in balsamic vinaigrette.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Delicioso!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ilGUrNsynXjieTCTKoB-i-q2FuCCiurhaZI7-IS3JOyz9etV2abAvwgjwlWYus4lnnnAoJzBCEHLNWwCkIQq7vYMLri-GKkmDJrT2KNNw5nWuou6sWcd3eYg9oXeOwABnUAb_D62uDw/s1600/Bleu+Cheese+Salad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ilGUrNsynXjieTCTKoB-i-q2FuCCiurhaZI7-IS3JOyz9etV2abAvwgjwlWYus4lnnnAoJzBCEHLNWwCkIQq7vYMLri-GKkmDJrT2KNNw5nWuou6sWcd3eYg9oXeOwABnUAb_D62uDw/s320/Bleu+Cheese+Salad.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Gene’s salad, which I’ve eaten before and featured here on my blog, is still my favorite – the Very Bleu Salad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being a salad snob, it’s rare to find the perfect leafy combination, but South Congress Café has a definite winner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Romaine, chunks of gorgonzola cheese, rosemary candied pecans (oh my!), hard-boiled quail eggs and their very own balsamic vinaigrette – need I say more?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGdsIa6Al-1IFnTfwVPB03feEQsm4PF6j-Bb-HaC9dWGRXkjPSXW1rW3XoJA6XqohKPLzt_paUhnh_YKvuZTLnTa68Ge7bjIsLgICFAR86OYSHAIam8z3ti42v2OUFP4pcGKGmwCyx5g/s1600/Cajun+Pasta.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGdsIa6Al-1IFnTfwVPB03feEQsm4PF6j-Bb-HaC9dWGRXkjPSXW1rW3XoJA6XqohKPLzt_paUhnh_YKvuZTLnTa68Ge7bjIsLgICFAR86OYSHAIam8z3ti42v2OUFP4pcGKGmwCyx5g/s320/Cajun+Pasta.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">As for our entrees, we both tried dishes we hadn’t had before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gene selected the Cajun Seafood Scampi – jumbo shrimp, ahi tuna, sea scallop, and jalapeno sausage on a bed of angel hair pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I am a big fan of Cajun food and seafood, but I found the spices in this dish to be a bit too heavy and hot for such a light pasta. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZjM-VxmlSV1P4OiRQUkRTwA_VkDBDKgmB7MXw1wMMOSdvQdPoTOjfPXFdOIRQkg_mjSuSatcw-c1y8raj64X9mTxNL0bn1I3QhBPgyIsJGO0IvbUR1QPBxpGP8VrPGdYOERONZ5yz-xw/s1600/Sea+Bass+and+herbed+gnocchi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZjM-VxmlSV1P4OiRQUkRTwA_VkDBDKgmB7MXw1wMMOSdvQdPoTOjfPXFdOIRQkg_mjSuSatcw-c1y8raj64X9mTxNL0bn1I3QhBPgyIsJGO0IvbUR1QPBxpGP8VrPGdYOERONZ5yz-xw/s320/Sea+Bass+and+herbed+gnocchi.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I, on the other hand, reveled in my Sea Bass Gnocchi. I think this is the best piece of fish I’ve ever eaten! (That’s saying a lot, since I’ve eaten many fabulous fish dishes!) The dish consisted of a pan seared sea bass filet, homemade herb gnocchi (an Italian dumpling), roasted fennel, oyster mushrooms and watercress. The fennel was such an interesting licorice-like flavor that perfectly complimented the fish. The shift manager, who stopped by our table, commented that the Sea Bass Gnocchi is his favorite dish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hats off to the chefs, once again, at South Congress Café! </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPVXV8X775ALOWOsOxw_0O1aSLuFrb-Kx7XTWa5wqrcTy5qATBHIGMhRoXcZxYJJD_zlKBfXMW6w-eEgxikKe1-ptFXiayJKWiXH2cvLUJ0eTZrp5nrqJR9DzaF41J4ynSn1yNTQUg5s/s1600/Chefs_Laura+Barbosa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPVXV8X775ALOWOsOxw_0O1aSLuFrb-Kx7XTWa5wqrcTy5qATBHIGMhRoXcZxYJJD_zlKBfXMW6w-eEgxikKe1-ptFXiayJKWiXH2cvLUJ0eTZrp5nrqJR9DzaF41J4ynSn1yNTQUg5s/s320/Chefs_Laura+Barbosa.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://laurabarbosa.wordpress.com/2008/11/07/chef-art-for-homes-and-restaurants/">"5 Chefs" - Laura Barbosa</a></td></tr>
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"All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind." --Kahlil Gibran<br />
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"A jazz musician can improvise based on his knowledge of music. He understands how things go together. For a chef, once you have that basis, that's when cuisine is truly exciting." --Charlie Trotter<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Ciao Down, Y'all!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-23332096373889999432011-10-22T01:35:00.005-05:002011-10-22T01:45:27.712-05:00The Unfitting Fat in Flight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUFAUPJ_EqCm0wx-nHdJhiXcj494XkbWEGlWkplLg9rrd_cfhSn5b3iRZhpx4e1UmEFK7enyx0Q_mKGtQkyU494Tgd94G35SN7a8yRU8WQDQ0tSSKtM2y1maiX5JqYwfYydbDpLWrzMU/s1600/airplane_seats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUFAUPJ_EqCm0wx-nHdJhiXcj494XkbWEGlWkplLg9rrd_cfhSn5b3iRZhpx4e1UmEFK7enyx0Q_mKGtQkyU494Tgd94G35SN7a8yRU8WQDQ0tSSKtM2y1maiX5JqYwfYydbDpLWrzMU/s320/airplane_seats.jpg" width="292px" /></a></div>I returned to work in September as a contract business analyst for the same company, working with all same people, after a two-month hiatus when my original contract ended. During this second tour of duty, I have made several trips out-of-town, but probably the most notable was my first trip to St. Louis last month.<br />
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I was given very little notice to make travel arrangements, and both legs of my flight were completely packed. However, the segment from Chicago to St. Louis was a bit more packed than I had counted on. <br />
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Wagging my cumbersome computer bag and purse through the skinny aisle of the plane, I passed row after row until I came upon my destination near the very back of the plane. Air travel is so stressful, and I had walked at a fast clip from one end of the Chicago O’Hare Airport to another in order to catch my connection (which is always the case at O’Hare). <br />
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Let me just stop right here to say, “I really hate the Chicago O’Hare Airport!” Okay, got that out of my system. Now, where was I? Oh yes…<br />
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So, there I was, frazzled, looking at my boarding pass to be sure of the seat assignment. If I could just get there, sit down and relax. Almost there…32, 33, 34A… the window seat…right next to…(insert sigh)…the very obese man in 34B. The big guy was engrossed in both his iPad, which was sitting atop his enormously large belly, and his iPhone, which he was holding in his right hand as he feverishly tapped the screen of his iPad.<br />
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I got the attention of my new seat mate, and looked elsewhere for a seat as he rose and moved out of the way. I slid into my long awaited respite. As the gentleman reclaimed his seat, he also claimed half of mine. I silently cursed myself for not beginning my diet sooner and losing another 20 pounds. With all my mental and muscular might, I tried to will all the flesh on the right side of my body to draw in as close as possible to my bones. It didn’t seem to make much difference. <br />
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I was being terribly infringed upon, but this was a full flight. What was I supposed to do? I weighed the pros and cons of asserting my right to a full seat, having paid a full fare. But, goodwill won out over comfort, and I decided to endure the hour-long flight to St. Louis without contention. <br />
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Feeling somewhat intimate with the unwanted body encroaching on my seat, I opted to make the best of things by starting up a conversation. After all, if we were going to be physical, I should at least know this man’s name. <br />
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Mr. Big finally ended his phone call and reluctantly turned off his iPhone when the flight attendant came by a second time, again asking that all electronic devices be put away. I casually asked how he liked his iPad, and Mr. B launched into a discussion about this latest, greatest device, rotating it on its perch of massive flesh so I could see the screen better. As he continued to talk about himself, never asking me any questions, I realized how self-centered this man was, how oblivious he was to my discomfort and feelings.<br />
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Unless you’ve actually had a close encounter of this kind, it’s really difficult to convey the many thoughts and feelings I had racing through my brain. I wanted to appear interested, kind and considerate. I wanted to be tolerant and empathetic. But inside my head, the conversation was seething with disgust and feelings of injustice. <br />
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Why was I to be put in such an incredibly uncomfortable situation simply because the man next to me chose not to purchase two seats instead of one? “If the flight hadn’t been full,” my alter-ego answered, “it wouldn’t have mattered.” But, shouldn’t it matter?!<br />
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Why did the airline allow this man on the plane with only one ticket when he was clearly not able to fit into one seat? “Silly woman! Charging an obese man double the price to travel would clearly be discriminatory, of course!” The voice continued, “Can you just see the lawsuits, the negative publicity? Equal rights for weight-challenged people!” Yes, I could begin to see how pressing this issue would cost the airline a lot of money in the long run. It’s almost as if I could hear the airline executives saying, “Let’s just ignore the whole obese passenger situation and hope no one makes a fuss.” <br />
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About that time, Mr. Big began to snore. Oh joy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxffSmaZQcFcozRxNZ4KJ_caz-Jqjya1k3I9Hb6yS4DBhh7R6N4uJ-st9_gYv10Zpcj6QwU5c3kUtxMR2MEHmOtBh-iJyMMnD_1hU5GjQtIjnjRYxwnPnzdSn_cXC-lC1O2chhz83Nv7w/s1600/Fat+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxffSmaZQcFcozRxNZ4KJ_caz-Jqjya1k3I9Hb6yS4DBhh7R6N4uJ-st9_gYv10Zpcj6QwU5c3kUtxMR2MEHmOtBh-iJyMMnD_1hU5GjQtIjnjRYxwnPnzdSn_cXC-lC1O2chhz83Nv7w/s320/Fat+1.JPG" width="240px" /></a></div>Notice the nice soundproof earphones? Mr. Big obviously knew that in order for him to get any sleep he would have to shut out his own loud guttural snoring. Wish I’d had a pair. And, just in case you’re not feeling my pain yet, here’s another shot to further make my point.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMaKGfqsRsMoxm0EbvJxW515OsZcs4YxTnKswLN9FqnwqM89fXCeQmnwDP-NePySdz1LWZdYI-wjOFhBhrHudqgge8l03rD4y8fGnY6XVmwG9rV6ovSelMTu9Ua7eopPh2TlbGev8u5FM/s1600/Fat+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMaKGfqsRsMoxm0EbvJxW515OsZcs4YxTnKswLN9FqnwqM89fXCeQmnwDP-NePySdz1LWZdYI-wjOFhBhrHudqgge8l03rD4y8fGnY6XVmwG9rV6ovSelMTu9Ua7eopPh2TlbGev8u5FM/s320/Fat+2.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div>The only real solution, in my opinion, is to have all passengers take The Seat Test. As with our carry-on luggage having to fit into the overhead compartment, so should all passengers have to fit into one seat if they only buy one ticket. You take up more than one seat, you buy more than one ticket. Period. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5421HfhFdZzKSFiKZVEn9-S6MqyrIf11dTq0aMtd_CXjhO0la0Qr_5wAmToeAdwwfS8YXMbEnIKPq7IOVCyi-rGoSiyqXNWufwnEA6iD9pz9Tb4IDU5YZBtr22bHOc6nyssIj6motq54/s1600/airplane+seats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5421HfhFdZzKSFiKZVEn9-S6MqyrIf11dTq0aMtd_CXjhO0la0Qr_5wAmToeAdwwfS8YXMbEnIKPq7IOVCyi-rGoSiyqXNWufwnEA6iD9pz9Tb4IDU5YZBtr22bHOc6nyssIj6motq54/s320/airplane+seats.jpg" width="259px" /></a></div>As for my most uncomfortable travel experience, I am still deciding whether to demand the airline reimburse me for half the cost of my seat. I figure I could probably get a jury to award me emotional damages as well. I do feel I was violated and did not get my money’s worth of a seat!<br />
<br />
As I relive that very long hour of my life, I can hear another voice inside my head saying…<br />
<br />
“Good grief, Grayson! Enough already! You should’ve spoken up when you had the chance! Get over yourself! Somebody hand that woman some cheese to go with that whine!”<br />
<br />
Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. <br />
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As a fitting follow-up to a fat blog, stay tuned for another fabulous food review coming soon to the Texas Twang.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Trails to You and All Your Voices, Y’all!</span></b>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-52919990430258632392011-08-16T18:05:00.011-05:002011-08-16T18:28:28.081-05:00Hot Diggity Dog!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7hPk8CGBMqZRmLvEMFTD_0V27hI925stFF9tiI-PNAG03o_Pl-7daPParZrmDb0gIr6fW6fLAOkEjs-FnLehz9CZmRldkp2L2kDwrrdnUUe3FGyL8yUPyOiqnyOG8KPz-XzLB6q83BE/s1600/Hot+Diggity+Dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7hPk8CGBMqZRmLvEMFTD_0V27hI925stFF9tiI-PNAG03o_Pl-7daPParZrmDb0gIr6fW6fLAOkEjs-FnLehz9CZmRldkp2L2kDwrrdnUUe3FGyL8yUPyOiqnyOG8KPz-XzLB6q83BE/s320/Hot+Diggity+Dog.jpg" width="222px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://gallerydriver.com/?method=Art.ArtDetail&ArtistID=71D2B863-115B-5562-AA0DF40D76971EE8&GalleryID=82c33c59-3048-28eb-92db386c8c733405&ArtID=85EFE1D1-19DB-5802-E07969414FC4D5BC"><em>Hot Diggity Dog</em> by Nouar</a> </td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
Having just topped the 100-degree temperature mark for the 56th day in a row here in Austin, Gene and I pondered what we should eat for lunch. I mean, what do you eat in the middle of the day when it’s scorching hot outside? The answer hit us over the head like an ice cold V-8…a hot dog!!<br />
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Gene really enjoys watching the show, “Day Tripper”, hosted by Chet Garner, and is always looking for great ideas for our own weekend day trips. Not too long ago, <a href="http://thedaytripper.com/episodes/episode-210-south-austin-tx">Episode 210 “South Austin, TX”</a> aired on PBS. As part of that episode, Chet featured food from Austin’s trailer park eateries south of Ladybird Lake. One of those eateries caught Gene’s attention – Man Bites Dog.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwnFg2jsr26yMIQbYFB1izY4bniaoJYOPPrgQzXIu74zP3tsgIZzxvH6ttIa6HO_38gCGGdrxrxNk9mak4LHI7Ung-ofDkftW8q-g7Kp2sNihyphenhyphenaGyoqWP5zaEPQOIEdpoC8LWJOkByqIE/s1600/man+bites+dog+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwnFg2jsr26yMIQbYFB1izY4bniaoJYOPPrgQzXIu74zP3tsgIZzxvH6ttIa6HO_38gCGGdrxrxNk9mak4LHI7Ung-ofDkftW8q-g7Kp2sNihyphenhyphenaGyoqWP5zaEPQOIEdpoC8LWJOkByqIE/s320/man+bites+dog+sign.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">So, last Saturday, with hot dog hunger in our bellies, we high-tailed it over to Austin Trailer Park Eatery to find the Man Bites Dog trailer as featured on Day Tripper. To our dismay, we discovered that Man Bites Dog was no longer there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Disappointment abounded. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVtDcvyxXl7C2iRuEGYTGCwCdJyCUcAhztwZAnYkaAZUFVC4hahMY7INvUkLs3usHICGp4pyTAO4eA-rSjBtd9Hm25Bl4669jHzejO8NB-NxpzpjekLGc37Py7aXu-8fmBBxupQYOrxg/s1600/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Burnet+Road+081611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVtDcvyxXl7C2iRuEGYTGCwCdJyCUcAhztwZAnYkaAZUFVC4hahMY7INvUkLs3usHICGp4pyTAO4eA-rSjBtd9Hm25Bl4669jHzejO8NB-NxpzpjekLGc37Py7aXu-8fmBBxupQYOrxg/s320/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Burnet+Road+081611.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yet, all was not lost as we found out that <a href="http://manbitesdogaustin.com/">Man Bites Dog</a> had moved to a brick-and-mortar building with air conditioning at 5222 Burnet Road. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With no end in sight for the sweltering <state w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Texas</place></state> summer heat, I’d say the owner of Man Bites Dog is one mighty smart guy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While running errands near Burnet Road today, we ferried our famished palates over to Man Bites Dog for a midday meal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRufHf1H7BJzXrX5f4xk2x0Ni0Yz6OqLE8SmEQKUWUuDysnTSPQl2ro2935l3DvOozqLQ6epM9pssp43bkrrVu4MI_gJaIw5zKgqX6fciPmNgme8u0XpffINcz8ykm1T-SiaJCvcK34E/s1600/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Jeremiah+%2526+Gene+081611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRufHf1H7BJzXrX5f4xk2x0Ni0Yz6OqLE8SmEQKUWUuDysnTSPQl2ro2935l3DvOozqLQ6epM9pssp43bkrrVu4MI_gJaIw5zKgqX6fciPmNgme8u0XpffINcz8ykm1T-SiaJCvcK34E/s320/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Jeremiah+%2526+Gene+081611.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeremiah Allen, Man Bites Dog owner, & Gene</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We lucked out as the owner, Jeremiah Allen, was behind the counter to take our order. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jeremiah assured us that Man Bites Dog will open a second location somewhere near the trailer park where he used to be located.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows it’s a hike for his customers, who live down south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, with this great new air-conditioned location, it’s worth the drive for a delicious dog!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jeremiah explained that the franks and sausage are all bought locally, and that the idea for opening Man Bites Dog came from backyard barbeques with his friends, as he tried to out-do himself with new hotdog combinations. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSwzJdQb1vM0Adr3LrFfwYbx9hBtHzT4H5_mTADmJTRMuI6JyjI9jjPSvVc54tEyuEzCnqFwz4Cm95x_mWvqcu3tNb77S_wZPF-olYxcvK6zO1U85SA_S1DPWVn6WM8fwLpK1VTB3HXg/s1600/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Hair+of+the+Dog+081611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSwzJdQb1vM0Adr3LrFfwYbx9hBtHzT4H5_mTADmJTRMuI6JyjI9jjPSvVc54tEyuEzCnqFwz4Cm95x_mWvqcu3tNb77S_wZPF-olYxcvK6zO1U85SA_S1DPWVn6WM8fwLpK1VTB3HXg/s320/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Hair+of+the+Dog+081611.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hair of the Dog</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
With choices like the Buffalo Hottie, Abe Froman, Danger Dog, Greek Dog, the Cuban, the Reuben and the Howler, I found myself in a dietary dilemma! However, Gene knew right away that he wanted the Hair of the Dog ($6.59), which is a deep-fried, bacon-wrapped, large, Vienna beef frank topped with chili, cheddar cheese, fried egg and TABASCO® sauce. I tried several bites of Gene’s dog, and it was definitely a Weiner Winner with a kick!! Yum!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMiLEecv85z44iHDU15e9pboMgchL59AIezgK8h5mLB0BH2HFS_Ax2wNsqGn5hsmSpkRl91wC94MSpiWc_8JXRbM3jTPiJl47govMBuQlwONV62v3PHxaEkhdp-pVBpI9oQB3b2Gl0LQ/s1600/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Beer+Brat+081611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuMiLEecv85z44iHDU15e9pboMgchL59AIezgK8h5mLB0BH2HFS_Ax2wNsqGn5hsmSpkRl91wC94MSpiWc_8JXRbM3jTPiJl47govMBuQlwONV62v3PHxaEkhdp-pVBpI9oQB3b2Gl0LQ/s320/Man+Bites+Dog+-+Beer+Brat+081611.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beer Brat</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
I finally decided on the Beer Brat ($4.79), which consists of a Live Oak Beer Brat, topped with sauerkraut and spicy brown mustard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you love bratwurst, you will love this dog!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I mention the buns?!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh…my…goodness!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The buns make these dogs outrageously delicious!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soft, huge, freshly baked, warm buns, which have a hint of sweetness, are one of the key ingredients to Man Bites Dog’s success!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEFojwfXpNQ8j09MGLt2MXTxY1i9MtuaUiSJN12QCqdNn4akbnGX2rvoCCC2cesFI0Xyekq5iZFtlDw1EO5h7751X4HCQvv87Y8L31YWODcdOtcvyo2lUQcKmy-4JnAzPhHZTWYfJxyw/s1600/Man+Bites+Dog+by+David+Bell+Halliwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEFojwfXpNQ8j09MGLt2MXTxY1i9MtuaUiSJN12QCqdNn4akbnGX2rvoCCC2cesFI0Xyekq5iZFtlDw1EO5h7751X4HCQvv87Y8L31YWODcdOtcvyo2lUQcKmy-4JnAzPhHZTWYfJxyw/s320/Man+Bites+Dog+by+David+Bell+Halliwell.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sevendialsartists.co.uk/2010/Artists%20Live%20Here/artists_live_here_2.html"><em>Man Bites Dog</em> by David Bell Halliwell</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">And, if one dog doesn’t fill you up, there’s also appetizers, such as Dojo Dogs – beef franks, green chiles and cream cheese, wrapped in an egg roll wrapper, Pulled Pork Mac N’ Cheese, Chicken Wings, Fried Pickles, Chili Cheese Fries, regular fries and more. Oh, and Kosher or vegetarian franks may be substituted on any hot dog! How’s that for service?!</span></div><br />
Our conclusion? Man Bites Dog is an absolute MUST for hot dog and sausage lovers! (I’ve already picked out which dog I’m going to try on our next visit.) So, beat the heat with a hot dog from Man Bites Dog!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGHKEvLwEN9FEw4dlhCtb-ESfetQztc2dgtnqn3NQdo1wBFBwesudkUTUFRZHKsewcRmimO_1BN99T2zc-j2AXZCbz8-j7TVRMeXJb0BGyMfVIAjaOTm1Sb_C_ymuapRoxfho4qZTbIY/s1600/Dog+of+Man+-+Rene+MagrEat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGHKEvLwEN9FEw4dlhCtb-ESfetQztc2dgtnqn3NQdo1wBFBwesudkUTUFRZHKsewcRmimO_1BN99T2zc-j2AXZCbz8-j7TVRMeXJb0BGyMfVIAjaOTm1Sb_C_ymuapRoxfho4qZTbIY/s320/Dog+of+Man+-+Rene+MagrEat.jpg" width="213px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dog of Man by MagrEat</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
"The noblest of all dogs is the hot-dog; it feeds the hand that bites it." -- Lawrence J. Peter<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">These Dogs Howl, Y’all!!</span></strong><br />
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Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-76999900624374268702011-07-29T21:12:00.000-05:002011-07-29T21:12:48.740-05:00Cool Beans!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3tHZvxVH5_Rnc1UZR_3NNSg0_ZxyhjYeimRB2Rfw-tdboJF6lvIg8yvKDce4N0AjJmIOoRU1avwFWVIJl4DWEGwrFJ2jIpFThoGDXtuchjxyY11PxAWg3H2kkgfux4INoel04TD6snA/s1600/Visita+de+las+Hermanas+-+Amado+Pena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3tHZvxVH5_Rnc1UZR_3NNSg0_ZxyhjYeimRB2Rfw-tdboJF6lvIg8yvKDce4N0AjJmIOoRU1avwFWVIJl4DWEGwrFJ2jIpFThoGDXtuchjxyY11PxAWg3H2kkgfux4INoel04TD6snA/s320/Visita+de+las+Hermanas+-+Amado+Pena.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Visitas de las Hermanas</em> - <a href="http://www.penagallery.com/">Amado <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Peña</span></span></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Today, Gene and I saw part of a fascinating episode of the show, <em>Modern Marvels</em>, entitled “Beans”, featured on the History Channel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The topic is always one of interest, since Gene and I like eating beans so much.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXVAHPlRfY29hHrEhE3slFwXt2ZgE-t6b3TuVYOnm2Tptg4uQqeqpsdDSbPsn7JnATiFSRdH6FbZ_9myGutgy9fvlcJHHpOgYBwgN9mlRjY1pnHvYXWDVnqYTjO5b7Yw660DCJq1rY3M/s1600/chickpea4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXVAHPlRfY29hHrEhE3slFwXt2ZgE-t6b3TuVYOnm2Tptg4uQqeqpsdDSbPsn7JnATiFSRdH6FbZ_9myGutgy9fvlcJHHpOgYBwgN9mlRjY1pnHvYXWDVnqYTjO5b7Yw660DCJq1rY3M/s320/chickpea4.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
The most popular bean worldwide is the garbanzo bean, also known as the chickpea. Cooked, mashed garbanzo beans are the primary ingredient of hummus, a wonderful, creamy dip originating in the Middle East. Rich in vitamin C, iron and vitamin B6, hummus is an excellent source of fiber and protein, and is traditionally served with pita bread. You can find hummus in your local grocery store, and for a healthy snack, try it with baked pita chips, celery and carrots. Yum!<br />
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Below are links to a couple of delicious-sounding recipes using chickpeas that I’m going to try soon:<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .25in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.kansas.com/2010/08/03/1430178/the-worlds-most-popular-bean-chickpeas.html">Curried Brown Rice Chickpea Salad</a></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .25in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><a href="http://blog.fatfreevegan.com/2007/11/north-african-chickpea-and-kale-soup.html">North African Chickpea and Kale Soup</a></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .25in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.closetcooking.com/2009/04/roasted-butternut-squash-and-chickpea.html">Roasted Butternut Squash and Chickpea Wheatberry Salad</a></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .25in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The second most popular bean in the world is the Pinto Bean, and most of us have tasted this wonderful bean in Mexican cuisine as refried beans. Interestingly, refried beans aren’t fried at all! Check out this interesting <em>Food Tech</em> video on the making of refried beans:</div><div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .25in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;"><object height="240" width="380"><param name="movie" value="http://www.history.com/flash/VideoPlayer.swf?vid=72824003501"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.history.com/flash/VideoPlayer.swf?vid=72824003501" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="380" height="240"></embed></object></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .25in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">One of my most favorite pinto bean recipes comes from my friend, Drew, in Gatesville, Texas:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong>Miss Drew’s Beans</strong></div><div style="text-align: left;"><em>Ingredients</em></div><div style="text-align: left;">3 lbs. pinto beans</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 lb. bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces (I use maple-flavored bacon)</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 onions, chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 cans Rotel Diced Tomatoes & Green Chiles</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 or 2 bunches cilantro, chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">Salt to taste</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><em>Directions</em></div><div style="text-align: left;">1. Wash and rinse the amount of beans you want to cook. </div><div style="text-align: left;">2. Using 1 quart of water for each cup of beans, cook up a big pot of pinto beans according to the package. </div><div style="text-align: left;">3. Do not add seasoning while cooking the beans. </div><div style="text-align: left;">4. If you pre-soaked the beans, cooking time will be 1 to 1 ½ hours. If you did not pre-soak the beans, cooking time will be 2 to 2 ½ hours. Stir occasionally, making sure beans don’t stick to the bottom of the pot, and add additional water if necessary.</div><div style="text-align: left;">5. Fry bacon and onion until cooked (bacon will not be crispy). Do not burn onions.</div><div style="text-align: left;">6. Add bacon and onion mixture (including bacon grease) to beans.</div><div style="text-align: left;">7. Add 3 cans Rotel Diced Tomatoes & Green Chiles.</div><div style="text-align: left;">8. Add chopped cilantro.</div><div style="text-align: left;">9. Salt to taste.</div><div style="text-align: left;">10. Cook 30 more minutes and serve hot. Enjoy!</div><div align="center" style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_c8tGgiMJUWaZLCkHKtr84qYREnLbLUIfuRKy0ztoM0kOPkMFGVN0ylbtY5OxvhJOw3h0yuH62OeBM8_JBgEnZnP1yYRJNy855q3gaE_DzNdA7LrqaaxNkTzCicgkWktQi5vfv-hbcxI/s1600/Amado+Pena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_c8tGgiMJUWaZLCkHKtr84qYREnLbLUIfuRKy0ztoM0kOPkMFGVN0ylbtY5OxvhJOw3h0yuH62OeBM8_JBgEnZnP1yYRJNy855q3gaE_DzNdA7LrqaaxNkTzCicgkWktQi5vfv-hbcxI/s320/Amado+Pena.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Amado Peña</span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.penagallery.com/">Amado Peña</a>, renowned Southwest artist, created a painting, entitled <em>Tres Hermanas</em>, which depicts the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Sisters_(agriculture)">Three Sisters</a> – maize, beans and squash. These were the staples of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Pueblo_Peoples">Ancient Pueblo People</a>, as well as some of the later tribes, such as the Zuni, Hopi and Navaho. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9c5PX0DBpi1UGAeFHvUF1OAmQTrTCANqbB44HmI1n3LCjxJpZecF_NECcU52KJsuXxseACi2KWcdY9jMkqvWidV1wdzaOknYL9EjC-9f1rYUchMjJAdV_c048PFkhxGRDZ_WuZUsRIsU/s1600/Tres+Hermanas+-+Amado+Pena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9c5PX0DBpi1UGAeFHvUF1OAmQTrTCANqbB44HmI1n3LCjxJpZecF_NECcU52KJsuXxseACi2KWcdY9jMkqvWidV1wdzaOknYL9EjC-9f1rYUchMjJAdV_c048PFkhxGRDZ_WuZUsRIsU/s320/Tres+Hermanas+-+Amado+Pena.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Tres Hermanas</em> - <a href="http://www.penagallery.com/">Amado <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Peña</span></span></a></td></tr>
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The Native Americans used companion planting. First, they buried rotten fish, which acted as a fertilizer, in a mound with maize seeds. Once the stalks reached a certain height, they planted beans, which wrapped around the maize stalk. The beans provided nitrogen to the soil, and the stalk served as a pole up which the beans would grow. Squash plants encircled the base of the maize and beans to retain moisture in the ground, to provide ground cover, preventing sunlight from encouraging weed growth, and as a deterrent to pests due to the prickly hairs of the vine. <br />
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One cannot write about beans without mentioning the oh-so-dreaded side effect, flatulence. So, how can we prevent flatulence from beans? Try this <a href="http://getbetterwellness.blogspot.com/2011/06/cooking-flatulence-free-beans.html">tip</a> while cooking your beans. Or, try <a href="http://www.beanogas.com/">Beano®</a>, an enzyme-based, dietary supplement, used to reduce gas in the intestinal tract, thereby reducing flatulence. Beano® was developed by Alan Kligerman of AkPharma in 1990. He created this formula while researching lactates in an effort to provide a solution for people, who are lactose-intolerant. The man was a genius!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrWj1msOugATbd468dkYkTbvcEfjoRyR24btcn_U69Mzps3XJjla5E2BJelzX-EWY6iE0S8V13V4ffR083isrhyphenhyphenyidiiV71GqVv86iK7_oS3IKR6yGSDNRdjSFA4HDVMeFuTXMCVbwIU/s1600/Ben_Franklin+-+Michael+J+Deas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrWj1msOugATbd468dkYkTbvcEfjoRyR24btcn_U69Mzps3XJjla5E2BJelzX-EWY6iE0S8V13V4ffR083isrhyphenhyphenyidiiV71GqVv86iK7_oS3IKR6yGSDNRdjSFA4HDVMeFuTXMCVbwIU/s320/Ben_Franklin+-+Michael+J+Deas.jpg" width="246px" /></a></div><br />
And, speaking of geniuses, Benjamin Franklin outlined the easiest of all solutions in the eloquent essay he wrote around 1781 entitled, “A Letter To A Royal Academy”:<br />
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“It is universally well known, That in digesting our common Food, there is created or produced in the Bowels of human Creatures, a great Quantity of Wind. That the permitting this Air to escape and mix with the Atmosphere, is usually offensive to the Company, from the fetid Smell that accompanies it. That all well-bred People therefore, to avoid giving such Offence, forcibly restrain the Efforts of Nature to discharge that Wind.”<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Eat Beans & Hold Your Wind, Y’all!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-28772150131810784932011-07-25T21:15:00.005-05:002011-07-26T10:45:43.400-05:00Don't Let 'Em Get Your Goat!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FgpCO-K6TQ308DwPPxkKpYOWJlM4uefLKhdhLln_SnyUhkeosbnfs7W2ter08rroTDw1-UMlzyBHix1pyZd7B3nPMzMpJWG_wYXCiEGZr6hhVK3SDlF_dSXsqFkXtPphz6unQ5G4_4g/s1600/goat+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FgpCO-K6TQ308DwPPxkKpYOWJlM4uefLKhdhLln_SnyUhkeosbnfs7W2ter08rroTDw1-UMlzyBHix1pyZd7B3nPMzMpJWG_wYXCiEGZr6hhVK3SDlF_dSXsqFkXtPphz6unQ5G4_4g/s1600/goat+1.jpg" t$="true" /></a></div>Last week, I paid a long overdue visit to my friend, Paula Tarver, who raises goats and chickens in her backyard. I’ve wanted to see the animals for some time now. Coincidentally, it was milking time for the nanny goat, and she was udderly ready! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdV1qpN-4hPqbRktZOTd6ZJUpqXmDHuXknZ_cJXGgqR9biQPEXhJI5cJPfTy9FFZm6NEFu_DmCyPCeN6NgH59J8LCLDINFN1SJ9xpkCo1jSvWD9qWc8cM_nWmNrumQloLTO12BMQhrCA/s1600/Milking+Eve.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdV1qpN-4hPqbRktZOTd6ZJUpqXmDHuXknZ_cJXGgqR9biQPEXhJI5cJPfTy9FFZm6NEFu_DmCyPCeN6NgH59J8LCLDINFN1SJ9xpkCo1jSvWD9qWc8cM_nWmNrumQloLTO12BMQhrCA/s320/Milking+Eve.JPG" t$="true" width="240px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paula Tarver milking Eve</td></tr>
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The goats were amazingly tame and friendly, enjoying a good scratch on the head and back (just like dogs). This up-close exposure to these very interesting animals caused me to ponder more upon goats.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJKybP0AtYJ7W8rV1YLcx0vnqsbbDUe8CcRUsKEM5bceGCWz3f1w0KMA5tzbpknLZhhlnZx0WufJZ2Foyuk9_OQ4I7TrF_ncVxHmEOJsMdUOeqXXp09YVbBE9zkKFbDF3AeIaixxdONI/s1600/Paula+Tarver+%2526+Eve.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJKybP0AtYJ7W8rV1YLcx0vnqsbbDUe8CcRUsKEM5bceGCWz3f1w0KMA5tzbpknLZhhlnZx0WufJZ2Foyuk9_OQ4I7TrF_ncVxHmEOJsMdUOeqXXp09YVbBE9zkKFbDF3AeIaixxdONI/s320/Paula+Tarver+%2526+Eve.JPG" t$="true" width="293px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Tarver Milking Setup</td></tr>
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Goats will eat just about anything in their path and I know a number of families in the country that raise goats to manage the brush levels on their ranches. When I was young, we sang songs during road trips, and one of our favorites was “Bill Grogan’s Goat”. To jar your memory about this infamous goat, click on the video below:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Z-HgbmusMzw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Ever heard the phrase, “get your goat”? It’s an idiom that originated in the early 1900s in American literature, which means to make annoyed or angry. According to <a href="http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/get-your-goat.html">The Phrase Finder</a>, an alternate explanation of the phrase's origin stated that goats were placed with racehorses in order to keep them calm. When an evildoer wanted the racehorse to run badly, they would “get your goat”. However, there’s no evidence to support this latter theory.<br />
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Allergic to cow’s milk? Try goat's milk! Many individuals who are allergic to cow’s milk may be able to tolerate goat's milk and goat cheese. (However, people with lactose intolerance may still be unable to drink goat milk.) Although research studies have not been able to prove exactly why goat milk may be more easily digested by people allergic to cow’s milk, some studies indicate that cow’s milk contains certain alpha-casein proteins, lacking in goat's milk that can cause allergies. <br />
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Goat's milk has also been found to contain anti-inflammatory compounds that may benefit individuals suffering from asthma, rheumatoid arthritis, chronic ear infections and eczema. Goat's milk is also an excellent source of calcium, riboflavin (Vitamin B2), potassium and protein! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-PcB2EMvdvsGChUEsvcOyPAbvrtc3Y4adc_h-UObqPWnqewbKhyphenhyphen7W5IeOYcBiaBIcYKH2HFtMhFSW0DqUv96NKT2zOCFAxU3cR7DzVI3ZAMkWLoWyL3aHpDtiPw9YfyrtY4rHN1W5zw/s1600/GoatCheeseSalad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-PcB2EMvdvsGChUEsvcOyPAbvrtc3Y4adc_h-UObqPWnqewbKhyphenhyphen7W5IeOYcBiaBIcYKH2HFtMhFSW0DqUv96NKT2zOCFAxU3cR7DzVI3ZAMkWLoWyL3aHpDtiPw9YfyrtY4rHN1W5zw/s320/GoatCheeseSalad.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/melissanicole">Melissa Schneider</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>One of my most favorite cheeses is goat cheese. I love to crumble goat cheese in my salads. The tangy, interesting flavor of goat cheese is not as overpowering and sharp as blue cheese can be, and has just as many uses. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9XWtFLz0fd3wP1s8ANFSVfxrX-XxKb92dro7BJnt3kWcU5_qSVQ9RczDEz8JuuvGxtsTDxSrDgkzF14N4L-HzblPAMgxU-N-mVFrBoRZ04FfeN8CjcXGiEpeH-qWiK8aSGYdORaGszIk/s1600/GoatCheesePizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9XWtFLz0fd3wP1s8ANFSVfxrX-XxKb92dro7BJnt3kWcU5_qSVQ9RczDEz8JuuvGxtsTDxSrDgkzF14N4L-HzblPAMgxU-N-mVFrBoRZ04FfeN8CjcXGiEpeH-qWiK8aSGYdORaGszIk/s320/GoatCheesePizza.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/melissanicole">Melissa Schneider</a></td></tr>
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The first time I ever tried goat cheese was on a gourmet pizza! Knowing all the benefits, we should all eat more goat cheese. Try sprinkling it on your soup or bake it on top of a sliced tomato. Yum!<br />
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For those meat eaters, there’s always goat meat, also known as cabrito or chevron. The <a href="http://www.tennesseemeatgoats.com/">Onion Creek Ranch</a>, near Buda, TX, specializes in raising meat goats, the Tennessee Meat Goat™ in fact. Although I haven’t personally indulged, I am always “game” for new meats and foods. Click <a href="http://www.austinfarmtotable.com/2008/02/goat-its-whats-for-dinner.html">here</a> to read about a great-sounding Cabrito Guisado recipe! <br />
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“Don’t approach a goat from the front, a horse from the back, or a fool from any side.” –Yiddish Proverb<br />
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“He who lets the goat be laid on his shoulders is soon after forced to carry the cow” –Italian Proverb<br />
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“If you put a silk dress on a goat he is a goat still.” --Irish Proverb<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">No Goats, No Glory, Y’all!</span></b>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-1498434390571830552011-07-16T20:18:00.006-05:002011-07-16T20:27:54.955-05:00Simmering Summer Cold Remedies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbBDYo5SQdgHpPwy8mmNdIMXin-5EWhXYjAhSnkEAgZeKWgIXshz89snG22k3lmGUlPpPxcb91bgrBtkK_yXfamTsSXu-DfEH6spMugal1SA06hYgFpLEC1ZrrHk3aTuMjni2EUTeaiI/s1600/Sick-Woman-and-Doctor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbBDYo5SQdgHpPwy8mmNdIMXin-5EWhXYjAhSnkEAgZeKWgIXshz89snG22k3lmGUlPpPxcb91bgrBtkK_yXfamTsSXu-DfEH6spMugal1SA06hYgFpLEC1ZrrHk3aTuMjni2EUTeaiI/s320/Sick-Woman-and-Doctor.jpg" width="260px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On Friday just after leaving the <a href="http://austin.theiiba.org/">Austin TX Chapter IIBA</a> (International Institute of Business Analysis) monthly meeting, (which was very informative and interesting), I stopped off at <a href="http://www.marshallsonline.com/">Marshalls</a> for a bargain-hunting shopping fix. I needed another set of workout togs and a new pair of tennis shoes. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNMvAQ5O8BJ26Abii8fUVJrdZcw3Mt3LSl3MaUT3A4ld4eYDgVi9cYk8fCXOU7wa17ahMWZ5W7t74QYRU37zY-dWsJofWONinjs4UL_mODUiCGrzoszFvPL2xsqzbB7VeTA5dh692VeA/s1600/Saucony+Athletic+Shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNMvAQ5O8BJ26Abii8fUVJrdZcw3Mt3LSl3MaUT3A4ld4eYDgVi9cYk8fCXOU7wa17ahMWZ5W7t74QYRU37zY-dWsJofWONinjs4UL_mODUiCGrzoszFvPL2xsqzbB7VeTA5dh692VeA/s200/Saucony+Athletic+Shoes.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div>Just as I spied a spectacular pair of Saucony athletic shoes, which I bought for $20 less than the last place I saw them, I began to sneeze...and sneeze...and sneeze. I was gettin' blessed by all kinds of people. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYDXI0ImOtF6Zea7WFabC8WxDIJxUB8gyJZB1X3GlpQ5IwI4mptrButEPWLDdmiNsCLUpjuGOR2q2B0KlNVW8IRSuZE9bR8hln2sgAwbEHp_98FiTVifBB6QK0YeI4yMdb1cWQ2ip49A/s1600/woman+sneezing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222px" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYDXI0ImOtF6Zea7WFabC8WxDIJxUB8gyJZB1X3GlpQ5IwI4mptrButEPWLDdmiNsCLUpjuGOR2q2B0KlNVW8IRSuZE9bR8hln2sgAwbEHp_98FiTVifBB6QK0YeI4yMdb1cWQ2ip49A/s320/woman+sneezing.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>"Hachooooo!"<br />
"Bless you!"<br />
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Well, it's time to cash in all those blessings, because I have definitely caught something crummy! My head feels like somebody stuffed it full of cotton. My chest is cinched tight. I can't lay down without the sensation of drowning in my own sinus pools. And, today, this crud has moved down to my throat and is threatening to invade my lungs. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9HtucSI4ETOoAvCL3xpFrkBYpK_hIQ-Kw40okSfhMZHMJZvFNaR5pa7PuujTGPeXVDC8EuaC-lTsOmcFv3NROpoooGnVQqKcGZPuyB9yvIKlrGHriGw1qmQDSOLN9gTzuCdjlsOwP344/s1600/pills.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9HtucSI4ETOoAvCL3xpFrkBYpK_hIQ-Kw40okSfhMZHMJZvFNaR5pa7PuujTGPeXVDC8EuaC-lTsOmcFv3NROpoooGnVQqKcGZPuyB9yvIKlrGHriGw1qmQDSOLN9gTzuCdjlsOwP344/s1600/pills.bmp" /></a></div>So, I've pulled out all the stops. This morning began with a dose of nose spray, Listerine, Alka-Seltzer Cold & Flu Daytime, Loratadine (for allergies), Mucinex (the miracle mucus pill), a workout at <a href="http://www.planetfitness.com/">Planet Fitness</a> followed by a protein and "greens" shake, <a href="http://krilloil.mercola.com/krill-oil.html">krill oil</a>, and last, but not least - <a href="http://www.neilmed.com/usa/sinusrinse.php">NeilMed Sinus Rinse</a>. You may recognize the name NeilMed® as the maker of the infamous <a href="http://www.neilmed.com/usa/adword_np.php">Neti Pot</a>. (I, however, could never allow myself to use anything called a "neti pot". That just sounds wrong to me.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFV1p51i4bXOjCZl8VNlsQGw86aRN4bjy23XC-1Rk3zngQts8RhNzvEU90Ryz1ChA7QZgl0PwROywJE6bZDrSk9TV_zhhNZAF8WW_DlBQ77UegYz28hsWKABbUeL1b9A52_kn3NLglUkg/s1600/head+cold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFV1p51i4bXOjCZl8VNlsQGw86aRN4bjy23XC-1Rk3zngQts8RhNzvEU90Ryz1ChA7QZgl0PwROywJE6bZDrSk9TV_zhhNZAF8WW_DlBQ77UegYz28hsWKABbUeL1b9A52_kn3NLglUkg/s1600/head+cold.jpg" /></a></div>With all the medication I have doused down my throat today, it's a wonder I'm not comatose. And, at the end of Day 2, I'm still sick. The best I felt today was at the funeral we attended (R.I.P. Tony & Sussie Herrera), and even then I was having hot flashes throughout the entire service, which was beautiful and uplifting. <br />
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The odd thing is that I'm happy as a clam! (Are clams really happy? Click <a href="http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/as-happy-as-a-clam.html">here</a> to find out.) <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6QSsBx79yPT8v-3nSUfWZ3dvl30GF4QjYgeefvYVQ-cVPqZbwtc95ccrlZv8RmW89hKoScLYL9Lso9IsHYb7hxaiI_ITKSgXMj92FAHnoa2DAoS5GzBvNb91WpPUbyGduA9a4sTnx_0/s1600/happy-clam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6QSsBx79yPT8v-3nSUfWZ3dvl30GF4QjYgeefvYVQ-cVPqZbwtc95ccrlZv8RmW89hKoScLYL9Lso9IsHYb7hxaiI_ITKSgXMj92FAHnoa2DAoS5GzBvNb91WpPUbyGduA9a4sTnx_0/s1600/happy-clam.jpg" /></a></div>Sniffling, snuffling, snorting, sick and smiling. Weird, huh? Yeah, I know. I could win the Weird Woman Award and wear the ribbon with pride stuck to my forehead. <br />
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I welcome any of your granny's or your own homegrown remedies for a summer sinus cold. However, with 100+ temperatures here in Austin, chicken noodle soup is definitely out of the question. <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Pass the Kleenex, Y'all!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-59134004127553991942011-06-26T23:59:00.002-05:002011-07-02T10:57:00.183-05:00Pamper Yourself!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuMn67-5lrtImjONjl5YrriT6kzsWZAjvE-Ubi9AeVh9dLoJvDVRznid9xYfXQBCSBzWugJgjIps4KBRMsanSLKyc39wXBkuZLSlBN1_JYvsCMFteg7l0-D_oa1KDG46cfBVbBegplhJw/s1600/Manicure+Art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuMn67-5lrtImjONjl5YrriT6kzsWZAjvE-Ubi9AeVh9dLoJvDVRznid9xYfXQBCSBzWugJgjIps4KBRMsanSLKyc39wXBkuZLSlBN1_JYvsCMFteg7l0-D_oa1KDG46cfBVbBegplhJw/s320/Manicure+Art.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div>Okay gals, let’s talk about nails. Getting a manicure or pedicure professionally is a luxury in which I have rarely chosen to indulge. However, this past year, I made a choice to pamper myself regularly, having my nails done by a salon. <br />
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Through years of nail biting and cuticle picking, I managed to damage my nail beds, which caused my nails to grow out wavy. With all the hammering on my computer keyboard during the day for work and all the hand quilting at night, I couldn’t manage to keep my nails long. They were constantly breaking and chipping.<br />
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For the first time ever, I decided to try solar nails. No, solar nails are not powered by the sun. They are the next best thing to my own nails, though – better, in fact. And, I found the most wonderful salon to get them done!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZopsKL21IbQJT8AD44bkoavWXVHCMBba1seqBdWiwHwPI9cuAboqMvqHyclx7O4pGmUYABgEmD_jqLMGkeNiYQv9jsqKADx2ABEJAk_2erXE6PWHryAjlAhOtBzF5wp2tqvwba32UyE/s1600/Viv+Nails+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZopsKL21IbQJT8AD44bkoavWXVHCMBba1seqBdWiwHwPI9cuAboqMvqHyclx7O4pGmUYABgEmD_jqLMGkeNiYQv9jsqKADx2ABEJAk_2erXE6PWHryAjlAhOtBzF5wp2tqvwba32UyE/s320/Viv+Nails+3.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><b>Viv Nails & Salon</b>, located at 3115 S. 1st Street, is the third place I tried for solar nails, and it’s the last place I’ll ever need to go. Chau (pronounced “Chow”), the owner, named the salon after her young daughter, Viv. On their business card is the slogan, “Experience the Excellence”. Viv’s certainly lives up to that motto! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfj1Xm3uTUw1zGfoqrt-LoaEWnd5-w5UUl53DewVNmY4iYmCTcXQNJqhlkM2GQSWWvSUKIn91-w1BsBPjrumT6fNVtNpu_oVW8S0iQyQJsOoc07zoXNcPUcNYCPCcDkxUFFgM5lG1lkTM/s1600/Chau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfj1Xm3uTUw1zGfoqrt-LoaEWnd5-w5UUl53DewVNmY4iYmCTcXQNJqhlkM2GQSWWvSUKIn91-w1BsBPjrumT6fNVtNpu_oVW8S0iQyQJsOoc07zoXNcPUcNYCPCcDkxUFFgM5lG1lkTM/s320/Chau.jpg" width="165px" /></a></div>Chau is a lovely, gracious woman, with a radiant smile, beautiful eyes and the longest natural eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a person. Chau is always dressed beautifully, wearing lovely dresses and fashionable high heels. She is a perfectionist when it comes to nails – a quality I truly appreciate! Unlike other salons, my solar nails from Viv's were the same length, wonderfully thin and they’ve never broken off – not even after 4 weeks of washing dishes, typing, quilting and scratching the dog. When Chau gets done with my nails, they look so natural! Even my mother couldn’t tell they weren’t mine. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19gTBk_-ws2s207xheb2FCjK8L5fme3gJBqh-saw-mnZHM7zyspdCvGZZ3h7nuhxnNffZvDI6mw4TMhj5pGgvdRXBoF_5avNqIo9S_wRqGVm6erQ9R6jRtNz9f1kdfhs0eHVSFeQ_7xE/s1600/Solar+Nails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19gTBk_-ws2s207xheb2FCjK8L5fme3gJBqh-saw-mnZHM7zyspdCvGZZ3h7nuhxnNffZvDI6mw4TMhj5pGgvdRXBoF_5avNqIo9S_wRqGVm6erQ9R6jRtNz9f1kdfhs0eHVSFeQ_7xE/s320/Solar+Nails.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>On one very indulgent visit I decided to also get a pedicure. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsdfgJ0s7_nxohniSpHYcsF773Ek16W3SAMAx9uO49D2iUS6nKaeskvnb-o_eFzBEDefQAd_n_uHp-msbQcovqJZV0kKNCoo8KTfPfnZBTnqYwo6d0OAZna988AccOYrLFOuB1n8VYqI/s1600/Pedicure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsdfgJ0s7_nxohniSpHYcsF773Ek16W3SAMAx9uO49D2iUS6nKaeskvnb-o_eFzBEDefQAd_n_uHp-msbQcovqJZV0kKNCoo8KTfPfnZBTnqYwo6d0OAZna988AccOYrLFOuB1n8VYqI/s320/Pedicure.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>Oh, how I would love to get a pedicure done on a regular basis! Chau’s sister-in-law, Thanh (pronounced “Haun”), with her sweet spirit and friendly smile, gave me a delightfully relaxing pedicure. She was gentle with my feet, provided an addictive foot and calf massage, and expertly shaped and painted my toenails. All of this luxury while sitting in a most fabulous massage chair. <br />
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The lovely ladies at Viv’s Nails & Salon do a wonderful job of serving and pleasing their customers. I am always offered a bottle of water. And, during my last visit, Chau noticed that I was excessively hot, although the salon was perfectly comfortable for her other patrons. She excused herself for a moment, and returned with a small fan, which she plugged in and pointed at my face. It was such a thoughtful gesture to a middle-aged woman having a hot flash! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfzMYZmjNSA6CRv_RRnYJRNZzYZpPpvZ82PlNQZqzdcO0JNP3ZeFjfdDQL42tauJOWl9Jyf_aK6-UxKqgBfRUoda3mV3bpXXps_5TgLEDtjSebOumBbBD7m4bQlNLMdZxCqkGywnfbu0/s1600/Viv+Nails+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYfzMYZmjNSA6CRv_RRnYJRNZzYZpPpvZ82PlNQZqzdcO0JNP3ZeFjfdDQL42tauJOWl9Jyf_aK6-UxKqgBfRUoda3mV3bpXXps_5TgLEDtjSebOumBbBD7m4bQlNLMdZxCqkGywnfbu0/s320/Viv+Nails+1.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div>I am so grateful to have found these lovely ladies and their smartly decorated salon where I take an hour every 2-3 weeks to leave the world behind and indulge in a little “me time”. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Rejuvenate at Viv’s, Y’all!</strong></span>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-39928787302713024752011-06-07T23:45:00.000-05:002011-06-07T23:45:04.351-05:00Wish Upon A Star<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9cF5GH4C1OPgNgluN8QNi-lvgfRCKeVwSdliVGT_FVSqx8lcw_f2PChXkKJL4JYyQZByGrLle7o4Oe3ndm9FLxxK_uPFuuFioaUkhfbV1K5qzXdzKqeFb6RhjPMPHzAi3jTLVeyyTtDo/s1600/Wish_Upon_A_Star_by_Caoimhe_Aisling_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9cF5GH4C1OPgNgluN8QNi-lvgfRCKeVwSdliVGT_FVSqx8lcw_f2PChXkKJL4JYyQZByGrLle7o4Oe3ndm9FLxxK_uPFuuFioaUkhfbV1K5qzXdzKqeFb6RhjPMPHzAi3jTLVeyyTtDo/s320/Wish_Upon_A_Star_by_Caoimhe_Aisling_large.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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When I was a little girl, I bought into all the fairy tales about that gallant, chivalrous knight on the glorious white steed, who would whisk me away from reality into a sparkling world of wonder.<br />
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</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpeckXPvjpxzrZK9wIA7UmFOTj3ODtBkMzg1AbWoBlhlP0mWqI0U4KzwJxLIbEcmg8n5-9FY8COD4S2tTF7pU1-_hHdzdZy2mFvNBJfcEytWJNIW9mVWh6a7KyGa9rinZem4aDE6Zz-g/s1600/prince-on-white-horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpeckXPvjpxzrZK9wIA7UmFOTj3ODtBkMzg1AbWoBlhlP0mWqI0U4KzwJxLIbEcmg8n5-9FY8COD4S2tTF7pU1-_hHdzdZy2mFvNBJfcEytWJNIW9mVWh6a7KyGa9rinZem4aDE6Zz-g/s320/prince-on-white-horse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> I dreamt that the glass slipper would fit.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30ht9orzX9J973rvVFFyK59I53M81qvQitAsXzc88lb7fQ0VED1b3uwTkqeapaM-T5XXy_AFZpgg8KAGDgLGKwfFXgX01tzmFxuvDB9o14zCnCfQz70qd8p9WXhSzoOLIPDTFRsr2I6o/s1600/cinderella+glass+slipper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30ht9orzX9J973rvVFFyK59I53M81qvQitAsXzc88lb7fQ0VED1b3uwTkqeapaM-T5XXy_AFZpgg8KAGDgLGKwfFXgX01tzmFxuvDB9o14zCnCfQz70qd8p9WXhSzoOLIPDTFRsr2I6o/s1600/cinderella+glass+slipper.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I desperately desired the prince’s kiss to awaken me from my daily slumber.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfiAzvisGDaSSbNBFzH_p_8SPh7exqbNbD8CVdMJhzQ4LH-BYjO-KALDa340pIzIeFmAfOQitxGqQFnRM4arbylydek8MAXzPdcyqq0eFmO7yPn4hTG-aUDdhy_oFWw8fNp8NBtqvl4kI/s1600/Snow+White+kissed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfiAzvisGDaSSbNBFzH_p_8SPh7exqbNbD8CVdMJhzQ4LH-BYjO-KALDa340pIzIeFmAfOQitxGqQFnRM4arbylydek8MAXzPdcyqq0eFmO7yPn4hTG-aUDdhy_oFWw8fNp8NBtqvl4kI/s320/Snow+White+kissed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I just knew all my dreams would come true, because Jiminy Cricket assured me they would.<br />
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But, while awaiting the arrival of my one true love, I whistled while I worked, wished upon star after star, and kissed more toads than I care to remember. All I found were bad apples, cracked mirrors, warts and evil mothers-in-law.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMiYpcon5jbFgmf6RFDPByJFER7yRixzL1AU9APg0bhuucSNBZ65xqucEfRi86klBRnAnRg50qddwHKh5-WOUOPs8Q6PGjHML1_WW1juqTIVKYOUzwMle_ciZNa-eXoRgTTvb_bpk3MTI/s1600/evil+MIL+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMiYpcon5jbFgmf6RFDPByJFER7yRixzL1AU9APg0bhuucSNBZ65xqucEfRi86klBRnAnRg50qddwHKh5-WOUOPs8Q6PGjHML1_WW1juqTIVKYOUzwMle_ciZNa-eXoRgTTvb_bpk3MTI/s320/evil+MIL+2.jpeg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
My heartache and despair brought me to my knees where I did my best to figuratively scrub my floors clean.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnan6dkhGSnns4ZxSJPnihprHhEtEHQqFNWfwTnBe33c1jhaKQmYDAYmzkKyAKOfixqME2dJaXR8nA3A6qNCdOorhTaTi3Dx7p_zyezCwZhfK621rI0KPQcpahU83rgJjxdmy2YWiWuLI/s1600/cinderella.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnan6dkhGSnns4ZxSJPnihprHhEtEHQqFNWfwTnBe33c1jhaKQmYDAYmzkKyAKOfixqME2dJaXR8nA3A6qNCdOorhTaTi3Dx7p_zyezCwZhfK621rI0KPQcpahU83rgJjxdmy2YWiWuLI/s320/cinderella.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
With the help of the Mistress Headshrinker of Oz (a.k.a. Pam Bailey), I removed my rose-colored glasses, clicked my ruby red cowboy boots together three times and began to see a bright, beautiful world of reality surrounding me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HrUlSTjhzFiSiWoutW3pFZI9Wuj6QOVC3D94KvWe2A2WuCiyqTXQuOhRTumCyI2ij11XQUAvELQIyGDUCf7miN1lNJfbn1VTUI2_wZZCUx22okXMwAn5CN9c_1waI-ZBXcMrVejNho0/s1600/red-cowboy-boots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HrUlSTjhzFiSiWoutW3pFZI9Wuj6QOVC3D94KvWe2A2WuCiyqTXQuOhRTumCyI2ij11XQUAvELQIyGDUCf7miN1lNJfbn1VTUI2_wZZCUx22okXMwAn5CN9c_1waI-ZBXcMrVejNho0/s1600/red-cowboy-boots.jpg" /></a></div><br />
And, then three years ago it happened...<br />
<br />
My knight, albeit with dented armor from the many dragons he’d fought and slayed, magically appeared in his white Jeep Cherokee, ready to defend my honor and protect my delicate ego. But, wait! I knew this fine knave! Wasn't this my dear, kind friend from long ago?! Indeed, it was Sir Eugene, son of Nel!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpV_4U7EYYpyxganLLrlNyH4pykpGyXvsyo1n2-8OP8JuasSt1vghs4RulI_7nkcPdMz8noL6YTK5Jpk2AwfP7ojsUtFpDzx6jWKuLmP6b-Hnyt_AJ9-i6m5PlOaV2tO3IlwXvgYwAtg/s1600/Memorial+Day+Trip+San+Antonio+2010+115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpV_4U7EYYpyxganLLrlNyH4pykpGyXvsyo1n2-8OP8JuasSt1vghs4RulI_7nkcPdMz8noL6YTK5Jpk2AwfP7ojsUtFpDzx6jWKuLmP6b-Hnyt_AJ9-i6m5PlOaV2tO3IlwXvgYwAtg/s320/Memorial+Day+Trip+San+Antonio+2010+115.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The more I stared, the brighter his armor gleamed. A year later, Sir Eugene, son of Nel, waltzed me down the aisle of Eternity and across the threshold of our Castle in the Clouds. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8Jb5ybXWgL21vT7jpckL59G7LOCIm2Iy1uo3j8OBT5Gh0IDOkW3vs1t6EnvrzfgwhuVLgV3MVTgdiw9LMrDBDS6SS9Nus70rcZnCHuHoWJl2JISAPG9KyNf0ek_bRta3JBVQF8K0m08/s1600/prince+whisks+away+Snow+White.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8Jb5ybXWgL21vT7jpckL59G7LOCIm2Iy1uo3j8OBT5Gh0IDOkW3vs1t6EnvrzfgwhuVLgV3MVTgdiw9LMrDBDS6SS9Nus70rcZnCHuHoWJl2JISAPG9KyNf0ek_bRta3JBVQF8K0m08/s320/prince+whisks+away+Snow+White.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Happy 2nd Anniversary on June 6th, Honey!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Dreams really do come true, Y’all!</strong></span></div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-48997332383421752422011-05-24T19:14:00.001-05:002011-05-24T19:28:17.890-05:00The Dreaded Day<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhR39s4PtjcJCLAdzdytlZzPg8WJpeCycyephm21koi8Nxgo6mekaYn_lL94nX2zFNYeDtJ1H6XZ133k1Oefd3bfVLHrBbJ9fG-vsswvC2X0-WOldmK8E7ss4T1NBcgUpiE4_cWqF7IU/s1600/bulldog-with-headache.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhR39s4PtjcJCLAdzdytlZzPg8WJpeCycyephm21koi8Nxgo6mekaYn_lL94nX2zFNYeDtJ1H6XZ133k1Oefd3bfVLHrBbJ9fG-vsswvC2X0-WOldmK8E7ss4T1NBcgUpiE4_cWqF7IU/s320/bulldog-with-headache.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div>It’s almost like I knew this day was coming. Strangely, I was feeling depressed yesterday. No reason in particular, just down in the dumps. But, given my stage of life, that mysterious and not-so-lovely phase of menopause, I didn’t think much of the mood swing. Most of the time, I feel great. When I don’t, it’s not my fault, it’s menopause. (I wonder how long I can milk this excuse.)<br />
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I went to bed early last night and committed myself to rise early and go to the gym for some much-needed endorphins and pound shedding. I felt great after my workout! Upon my return home, as I was contemplating either an extremely early start at work or cleaning my house, my dilemma was interrupted by a text message. Oops! I’d forgotten that I was supposed to meet my girlfriend at Starbucks for a hot chocolate. She was moving our meeting place much closer to my house, so off to <a href="http://www.dominicanjoe.com/">Dominican Joe’s</a> I went. <br />
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I had a great cup of hot chocolate while listening to my dear friend bring me up to date on the latest chapter of her interesting personal saga. She even mentioned how she was jealous that I had such a great job – working out of my home as a business analyst, performing a job I truly enjoy with people I really like at a great company. “Yes,” I thought, “I feel so blessed.”<br />
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During my one-on-one meeting with my manager this morning (the 7th manager I’ve worked under, by the way, since my contracting stint began two years ago), I felt prompted to ask about my future with the company. I knew my contract was up in June, and although previous managers had tried to bring me on board as an employee, they’d met with a No-Remote-Employee Policy that could not seem to be negotiated. I honestly felt that if I simply did my best at my job, and developed strong relationships with the project stakeholders, I would prove my value to the company and an exception would be made. I know I’m good at what I do. <br />
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Well, that strategy didn’t pan out. My manager disclosed in answer to my question that in June the company would not be renewing my contract due to budgetary constraints. Glad I asked. The only other time this happened to me was when I got laid off by my present company’s main competitor. I was doing a great job then, too! Maybe I’m in the wrong industry.<br />
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I’m indulging in a half-day pity party, but beyond that, it’s back to my cheery self. After all, with a life as blessed as mine, I have no reason to mope.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEb8BJCO6Ff1LO4J9y4upyDVfjmjQnJZmirvDP1mmuXifWMatu9mNmpQFqbWm8hoqs1Ey-wwW8Au28cVS4sWAQHhdN_8ZNd7JJJ240n_0bvHYA8i09mi-mFOcp3o1DAfAfk-wHbDzsUE/s1600/pity+party+balloons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEb8BJCO6Ff1LO4J9y4upyDVfjmjQnJZmirvDP1mmuXifWMatu9mNmpQFqbWm8hoqs1Ey-wwW8Au28cVS4sWAQHhdN_8ZNd7JJJ240n_0bvHYA8i09mi-mFOcp3o1DAfAfk-wHbDzsUE/s320/pity+party+balloons.jpg" t8="true" width="208" /></a></div><br />
I noticed a voice message on my cell phone after my meeting with my manager. It was a recruiter. She was just checking to see if I was still happy with my present position, or if I might be in the market for a new gig. <br />
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See, even with just a mustard seed of faith, all kinds of doors can open. And, my faith is so much greater than a mustard seed. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9FiYrhgXuBZQFl95mbzINJpgQaxTcrydPa8-afRoQDErWNUXbipZwmHXA102QwDA6cQARn6xkGpW2LaofpU4HCAMMpPk8UExoE4vX9bEP7A1-FG9FMh5MWZ4dpdlvy1UZQOQizztTLo/s1600/open-door-field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9FiYrhgXuBZQFl95mbzINJpgQaxTcrydPa8-afRoQDErWNUXbipZwmHXA102QwDA6cQARn6xkGpW2LaofpU4HCAMMpPk8UExoE4vX9bEP7A1-FG9FMh5MWZ4dpdlvy1UZQOQizztTLo/s320/open-door-field.jpg" t8="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I’m human (and menopausal, don’t forget), so I’m going to blow up the balloons for my party as I sit on the pity pot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t be here long, though, so stay tuned for “the good stuff”.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">“Employment, sir, and hardships prevent melancholy”—Samuel Johnson</div><br />
“The blessing of an active mind, when it is in a good condition, is, that it not only employ itself, but is almost sure to be the means of giving wholesome employment to others.” –Unknown<br />
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“…for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.” –Matthew 17:20 <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Time to Move a Mountain, Y’all!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-64788358321988596092011-05-04T12:47:00.001-05:002011-05-04T13:01:33.983-05:00And Justice For All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-znA3m7fkvJo/TcGNuBVkmWI/AAAAAAAAGmU/0GNbSXE2E0U/s1600/eagle+kills+snake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218px" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-znA3m7fkvJo/TcGNuBVkmWI/AAAAAAAAGmU/0GNbSXE2E0U/s320/eagle+kills+snake.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
A picture of a dead man…why would I want to see a picture of a dead man?! <br />
<br />
When I heard the news that Osama Bin Laden was dead, I felt relief not joy, for there is no joy in killing – no matter who it is. <br />
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<a href="http://www.glennbeck.com/2011/05/03/will-they-release-the-picture/">Glenn Beck</a>, on his website yesterday, discussed the release of the Bin Laden photo by President Obama. He makes some very good points. Would we have wanted to have a photo released of President John F. Kennedy after his assassination?<br />
We have become a nation of voyeurs. I’m constantly amazed by the drivers on the freeway, who slow down near a car accident in hopes of viewing the carnage of a wreck. I’m dumbfounded by shows like Jerry Springer and Dr. Phil that promote the stupidity and infidelities of others in the name of the almighty TV ratings. And, don’t even get me started on reality TV.<br />
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My prayer to Heavenly Father the night I heard Bin Laden was dead was one of gratitude for calling this evil man Home. Here was a child of God, as we all are, who used his God-given agency and his talents and gifts for evildoings, choosing darkness over light. I prayed for the family members of his victims, all over the world, who undoubtedly still grieve because of the actions of that man.<br />
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There are consequences for all actions. The blood of Bin Laden’s victims still cries for justice. It is not enough that this man no longer walks the earth. He left, in his wake, the grief and pain of all those who lost their loved ones in the attacks on 9-11. He left children fatherless and motherless. He left behind broken hearts. He left behind destruction and fear. He left behind other weak-minded individuals, poisoned and persuaded by his evil beliefs. <br />
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I take comfort in knowing that justice will unavoidably be served. The Lord Jesus Christ will not call Osama Bin Laden one of His sheep. And, on Judgment Day, Bin Laden will have to stand before God to account for his sins, and his evil actions will stain his soul for all to see. Justice will be served, and he will have to pay the price for all he did while on the earth. <br />
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I don’t need to see a picture of Bin Laden dead. It is enough for me to know that his death is just the beginning of the sentence he will serve.<br />
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For those of us still here on the earth, let us comfort one another, be good citizens of the United States of America, beware of evildoers and stand up for liberty and justice for all!<br />
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“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” –Edmond Burke.<br />
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"An evil man seeketh only rebellion: therefore a cruel messenger shall be sent against him." –Proverbs 17:11<br />
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“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” –<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pledge_of_Allegiance">Pledge of Allegiance</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1-1bQARsN2pZ6_HJFGiercifw2l8TJtd4bPELsA3dmKwrEs281uprdVXIlLEMG1c8xbf3kguf92UgTioMsTNY4iPy7_vrm38q_ZzldlPmevmq7tRzwxHbngYlSSnpHJjS2VP8dS7Oy8/s1600/Justice+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1-1bQARsN2pZ6_HJFGiercifw2l8TJtd4bPELsA3dmKwrEs281uprdVXIlLEMG1c8xbf3kguf92UgTioMsTNY4iPy7_vrm38q_ZzldlPmevmq7tRzwxHbngYlSSnpHJjS2VP8dS7Oy8/s320/Justice+2.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: large;">Choose The Right, Y’all!</span></b>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-72596541294740501742011-04-27T00:01:00.003-05:002011-07-25T22:10:10.130-05:00Texas Trailer Twangin' <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwgKHKwpv0vSL_GqtbSs9LqgKkBbaEE9TgriGKn4QKKaP3vCO-kyNx_-zakwlBHRJt7X35Nvn5yB2hx5yTOtcr51sh_DdXgBYSOW2OPc52_j9frmZzED63SeR4Nna36njQ_yApG4I9E0/s1600/banjos-sue-duda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwgKHKwpv0vSL_GqtbSs9LqgKkBbaEE9TgriGKn4QKKaP3vCO-kyNx_-zakwlBHRJt7X35Nvn5yB2hx5yTOtcr51sh_DdXgBYSOW2OPc52_j9frmZzED63SeR4Nna36njQ_yApG4I9E0/s320/banjos-sue-duda.jpg" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banjos - Painting by <a href="http://fineartamerica.com/featured/banjos-sue-duda.html">Sue Duda</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I’ve received lots of positive feedback from my readers, mostly emails from my out-of-town friends and family, drooling about the topic, <a href="http://texastwang.blogspot.com/2011/03/tantalizing-trailer-treats.html">Tantalizing Trailer Treats</a>. Even my mother is ready to drive down to Austin just to spend a day sampling the trailer fare. My response? “C’mon down!!<br />
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Someday we’ll try out new trailer eateries, I promise. But, for now, we’re gung-ho on <a href="http://www.uglybanjos.com/">Ugly Banjos</a> and <a href="http://www.facebook.com/BitsAndDruthers">Bits & Druthers</a>! The other evening, after determining that neither one of us was in the mood to cook dinner, Gene and I returned to the East Side Drive-In for more gourmet-to-go. <br />
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Gene needed another fish & chips fix (sans the chips) from Bits & Druthers (he can't get enough of that wonderful, deep-fried haddock), and I wanted to try the “real” Jimmy Cracked Chicken at Ugly Banjos. As you may recall, our first fabulous food fling at these two eateries was during the SXSW Music Festival. The trailer eateries had pared down and, in some cases, modified their menus in expectation of large crowds. <br />
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My first observation on our return trip was the East Side Drive-In is much more festive in the evening. Everything is lit up with fancy neon signs, and it’s easier to see inside the trailers as the culinary artists, or hash slingers, whichever applies, are busy at work. Plus, it is much cooler at night.<br />
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Surprisingly to me, Matthew Schaefer, co-owner of Ugly Banjos, remembered us as he delivered my order of Jimmy Cracked Chicken to our table. How nice, and what great service! But, I digress. What’s important here is THE FOOD! Oh….my….goodness! If I thought the Jimmy Crack Chicken sandwich I had before was wonderful, this full-blown version of the Jimmy Crack Chicken meal was over-the-top scrumptious! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0TTDmjDbVMwCbSj6QnkEPpUoxGAwF5Eb1ayL3HnYNUsCvfWwrbrA-s6Pznj6wv4Tmx3ij2-t1bzZsnQmWJH7rv0BvPV_tIsF4YiffPbkGYJF6tXqI3qwRoOPdCzGiaWPr-jI7KXL17o/s1600/Jimmy+Crack+Chicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0TTDmjDbVMwCbSj6QnkEPpUoxGAwF5Eb1ayL3HnYNUsCvfWwrbrA-s6Pznj6wv4Tmx3ij2-t1bzZsnQmWJH7rv0BvPV_tIsF4YiffPbkGYJF6tXqI3qwRoOPdCzGiaWPr-jI7KXL17o/s320/Jimmy+Crack+Chicken.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div> <br />
The cornmeal-crusted chicken breast, served with honey truffle butter, was sliced atop a bed of indescribably delicious hatch green chile macaroni-and-cheese and fresh, spicy collard greens. I ate half the mac and cheese before I made it back to the car. <br />
Let me stress that I never order chicken when I go out to eat. I usually prefer to order items that I wouldn’t normally cook for myself. But, this…Jimmy Crack Chicken…oh my…it plays music on my tongue. The flavors and texture are simply wonderful. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yihos0Oosjl41pdbJPwgRhU2DZLr3X3Z9LsTPO4dqsQectOF_4sdcDDHS7xik8hEgU2YLFGKQCSm5QR9w2pdpjGIv1G3YYn5M3NbFrI8nYN8F_g7r8Nm-a9kshEKBLU8rKMlyaYlchc/s1600/banjo-sailor-chad-elliott.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yihos0Oosjl41pdbJPwgRhU2DZLr3X3Z9LsTPO4dqsQectOF_4sdcDDHS7xik8hEgU2YLFGKQCSm5QR9w2pdpjGIv1G3YYn5M3NbFrI8nYN8F_g7r8Nm-a9kshEKBLU8rKMlyaYlchc/s320/banjo-sailor-chad-elliott.jpg" width="213px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banjo Sailor - Painting by <a href="http://fineartamerica.com/featured/banjo-sailor-chad-elliott.html">Chad Elliott</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I really will try a different trailer eatery soon, y’all. I promise. But, first I just gotta try Ugly Banjos’ “Mom! The Meatloaf” Sammich and their Chicken Fried Steak. I’ll let you know what I think. <br />
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“One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating.” -- Luciano Pavarotti <br />
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“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” -- Virginia Woolf<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Strummin’ Yum, Y’all!</span></b></div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-12441632523614727012011-04-07T18:39:00.005-05:002011-04-07T22:32:21.952-05:00Beating Around The Bush<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYY-SridnZdiT_6BTwKmaDQgMDreExdD6qRNVV6doNpW6Pudi_BIzmsZwUX89MeIXgeUedpBCZnTLcq_zFWdnywJE7xT2lkL3x4TQceQYw0C5_0hIvp-BGIHIzxG-Tc3ltg19JMH5Zzw/s1600/Bird+In+The+Bush%252C+5x5+72+dpi+3_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYY-SridnZdiT_6BTwKmaDQgMDreExdD6qRNVV6doNpW6Pudi_BIzmsZwUX89MeIXgeUedpBCZnTLcq_zFWdnywJE7xT2lkL3x4TQceQYw0C5_0hIvp-BGIHIzxG-Tc3ltg19JMH5Zzw/s320/Bird+In+The+Bush%252C+5x5+72+dpi+3_1.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">One morning in the not-so-distant past, I was awakened at 5:30 a.m. by the most invasive bird’s song.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some little bird, who had nested overnight in our front shrub, decided to announce the arrival of a new day, although it wasn’t even daytime yet.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I lay in bed, trying to ignore the trills and chirps of the boisterous birdie, but I began to sense a sinister plot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> We have a love-hate relationship with the birds. We have a bird feeder out front, so we can view the lovely cardinals and doves. Gene puts food out in the backyard during the winter for the birds, so they won't starve. I thrill at the sound of a red-bellied woodpecker working on a tree trunk. But, the grackles poop all over our cars and deck. And, now it was The Austin City Bird Singing Festival at 5:30 a.m. in my front yard. Isn't there an ordinance against that?!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83IthTcbPLJ5vFnOFWBZ8zCEHIWucvseTR_p9VHR5ec_yfg696QGmXFY37fgZNnz5Vp4DoH-Fx7FpjPjQEvLtquoZ7Ybg_QSgnQ29sRUQMyM_-rmWtDU0uLbSlI-bEKHnosLcdPC1y90/s1600/birdflu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83IthTcbPLJ5vFnOFWBZ8zCEHIWucvseTR_p9VHR5ec_yfg696QGmXFY37fgZNnz5Vp4DoH-Fx7FpjPjQEvLtquoZ7Ybg_QSgnQ29sRUQMyM_-rmWtDU0uLbSlI-bEKHnosLcdPC1y90/s320/birdflu.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">My need to sleep would not be silenced by the sound. After about 5 minutes, I jolted myself out of bed, pillow in hand, and marched out the front door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the dark in my pajamas, I began to beat the shrub with my pillow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bird stopped singing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no thought for the condition of the bird’s health, only that the sound would cease.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2P2taAqWghIPKlG-Tvfo_I5o63ZI1cavTpcQ8sGlrWXEesVgbv0_Gpwi5fjYOxfp4G8SPkFFlRerPHu9xUTvZ-hctb_W-mxG114MlhawRTq2mXnZpvInPOFwqeBcdh9BfINChsuD29M8/s1600/girl+screaming+with+birds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2P2taAqWghIPKlG-Tvfo_I5o63ZI1cavTpcQ8sGlrWXEesVgbv0_Gpwi5fjYOxfp4G8SPkFFlRerPHu9xUTvZ-hctb_W-mxG114MlhawRTq2mXnZpvInPOFwqeBcdh9BfINChsuD29M8/s1600/girl+screaming+with+birds.jpg" /></a></div>I returned to bed and snoozed until the sun had risen and it was truly time to get up. My husband thought it was funny that I was so grumpy and insistent to have my early morning hours of slumber. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3v1DyYzGknPMvIkm5AK8TrfODGdcYtcthYVKULlcfqtqmYncWSve9BumISOMEGwKcBWjPA8-p9cGqFgqOL-atjP-6NvpiIqg-LurdDjEAfmNKGXgobCyPaQfeI5huW0fskOrR4kykxU/s1600/SleepingBirdRed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3v1DyYzGknPMvIkm5AK8TrfODGdcYtcthYVKULlcfqtqmYncWSve9BumISOMEGwKcBWjPA8-p9cGqFgqOL-atjP-6NvpiIqg-LurdDjEAfmNKGXgobCyPaQfeI5huW0fskOrR4kykxU/s1600/SleepingBirdRed.JPG" /></a></div>Before dawn the next day, my little early morning intruder blasted more alarming birdsong out his little beak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time, my husband heard it and got up to see what all the ruckus was about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first thing Gene did was to turn off the yellow porch light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdoojCR3VHgo1babf1MK2DtdnvyGWtRaYBOoHo_VN4AdIwBF1y1pcRMPsT9Pj0wHJwr-9whS2KpLul2OAtupXm3QvHt7LxF9zfx36FFzSkmzL0vB-3hsZGjydBmEkS9LcddUSLe9YJzk/s1600/bird+in+bush+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdoojCR3VHgo1babf1MK2DtdnvyGWtRaYBOoHo_VN4AdIwBF1y1pcRMPsT9Pj0wHJwr-9whS2KpLul2OAtupXm3QvHt7LxF9zfx36FFzSkmzL0vB-3hsZGjydBmEkS9LcddUSLe9YJzk/s1600/bird+in+bush+painting.jpg" /></a></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The singing immediately stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuckling, Gene returned to bed and told me the bird must’ve thought our porch light was the sun. Turn out the light, the party’s over!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59Vb6hrFFwal5BmpGaUUBtfSGYv3C8jkNHmLixyWTEYe0kaT9LqXrPied1Gv9zAeMTTRiEw8QrYZajuVTTCeTF28rVMMsnseOGfLESOZdmYEZjh54bG0yfoFg_ffnrQ1J9tScl8gydzs/s1600/Art-200DeepNight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59Vb6hrFFwal5BmpGaUUBtfSGYv3C8jkNHmLixyWTEYe0kaT9LqXrPied1Gv9zAeMTTRiEw8QrYZajuVTTCeTF28rVMMsnseOGfLESOZdmYEZjh54bG0yfoFg_ffnrQ1J9tScl8gydzs/s320/Art-200DeepNight.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">By the way, beating the bird in the bush is not the same thing as beating around the bush. One is much more direct than the other. The likely origin of the phrase, <em>beat around the bush</em>, is derived from early hunting techniques in which unarmed men would walk around the forest beating tree branches and making noise, so as to flush out the prey from the bush. This allowed the hunters to avoid directly approaching the game. The technique was most often used in boar and bird hunting. For boar hunting, this was done primarily as a safety measure due to the razor sharp tusks and the likelihood of a boar charging a hunter. In bird hunting this was to scare the birds from their cover so that hunters could shoot them easily.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” –Miguel Cervantes<br />
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"A bird in hand is a certainty, but a bird in the bush may sing.” –Bret Harte<br />
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“A singing bird in the bush before dawn may never sing again.” –Grayson Nelson<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvqF7jg-hhiVRdPXZpWRwDFnkfiJZFmvOfrGKzq9c_QoBsXNtqGCI4PcOwtWFFnuyZNW7G2q-nJbNGEgPgs3XyosIxjetj-aIfkJkhlW78D-MlTGGOEOfimz1pW43toJF8Eo4jdfqSKI/s1600/cat-with-dead-bird-tex-norman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvqF7jg-hhiVRdPXZpWRwDFnkfiJZFmvOfrGKzq9c_QoBsXNtqGCI4PcOwtWFFnuyZNW7G2q-nJbNGEgPgs3XyosIxjetj-aIfkJkhlW78D-MlTGGOEOfimz1pW43toJF8Eo4jdfqSKI/s320/cat-with-dead-bird-tex-norman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span font-size:="" large;?="" style="color: white; font-size: large;"><strong>At My House, the Early Bird Gets the Boot, Y’all! </strong></span></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Artist Credits</span> (in order of appearance):</span></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bird in the Bush - Barbara York</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bird Flu - Unknown</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Girl Screaming with Birds - Unknown</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sleeping Bird Red - Kimberly Palencia</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bird in Bush - Margaret Fane</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bird in Deep Night - Kelly Riccetti</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Cat with Dead Bird - Tex Norman</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-22035552201029507132011-03-21T20:12:00.000-05:002011-03-21T20:12:38.892-05:00Blankets of Bluebonnets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU24JZctjCDYIR6lhhA2g4zICTBnpSS4WaI3MJxVUA-BhWo14qXeQHjGmwq7hN3i62jIM1AD6ufzbZZuyvl42kP-TqrH4buURD8-8ZAobV71XgkmABP0tsczpf1VhbUVF-QLGO3tGzm9E/s1600/Appraisal_photos_28361_800x449_op_640x359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU24JZctjCDYIR6lhhA2g4zICTBnpSS4WaI3MJxVUA-BhWo14qXeQHjGmwq7hN3i62jIM1AD6ufzbZZuyvl42kP-TqrH4buURD8-8ZAobV71XgkmABP0tsczpf1VhbUVF-QLGO3tGzm9E/s320/Appraisal_photos_28361_800x449_op_640x359.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! It’s that time of year again, all you lucky Texans! Bluebonnet time is here! Fill up your gas tank, throw the kids in the backseat, grab your camera and head to the Hill Country for blankets of bluebonnets. <br />
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On second thought, with gasoline up around $3.40 per gallon, maybe it would be better to drive the family down to <a href="http://www.wildflower.org/">Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center</a> in South Austin. That’s what Gene and I did this past Saturday as we attended the Artists and Artisans Festival at the Wildflower Center. The featured artist, <a href="http://www.bluebonnetskenmoore.com/index.html">Ken Moore</a>, was on site to answer questions about his beautiful bluebonnet paintings. Although Mr. Moore never formally studied painting, his artwork is wonderful, and it captures those feelings of spectacular awe many of us have felt while admiring the fields full of blue Texas blooms. Ken Moore’s bluebonnet paintings will be on display at the Wildflower Center through May 30th. (Top: Ken Moore’s Edge of the Hill Country #662 oil painting. Below: Ken Moore’s “Spring At Last” #694 oil painting.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmqCKWPrXYDtKZbwzqMuv57v3ciIymjLrtZpbRqnoBJM-I3xehrpXEC5Ftn4vDUv_01OzFPyNO4QQlSG8nQyP65ZOtVIS6GJ8IQPo8wYX0rSke9H753a_O1EUeo-CkcKmWXnCgNHRwro/s1600/ken+moore+house+%2526+bluebonnets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmqCKWPrXYDtKZbwzqMuv57v3ciIymjLrtZpbRqnoBJM-I3xehrpXEC5Ftn4vDUv_01OzFPyNO4QQlSG8nQyP65ZOtVIS6GJ8IQPo8wYX0rSke9H753a_O1EUeo-CkcKmWXnCgNHRwro/s320/ken+moore+house+%2526+bluebonnets.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Also exhibiting at Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center is <a href="http://www.creektree.com/shouping/">Shou Ping</a>, paper sculpture artist. Ms. Ping takes paper that has been painted with watercolors and cuts them into pieces, creating amazingly beautiful 3-D sculptures, set behind glass, much like a painting. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhDF7E-OZLTmOU2Lbco6NwbfDvD-tYOvo4RVASGAwyZNFkH3vtGuI_G3Jc0Gn1P1EdqnCi2YWo8FbJJl9iz_i3aMZlJK3f4pw6q75DQlPrb-Y1SarRVnDS53TA_5QTDdD2rc4psmw0I8/s1600/Shou+Ping+paper+sculptures_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhDF7E-OZLTmOU2Lbco6NwbfDvD-tYOvo4RVASGAwyZNFkH3vtGuI_G3Jc0Gn1P1EdqnCi2YWo8FbJJl9iz_i3aMZlJK3f4pw6q75DQlPrb-Y1SarRVnDS53TA_5QTDdD2rc4psmw0I8/s320/Shou+Ping+paper+sculptures_4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The day was perfect to walk through the grounds at the Wildflower Center, where we took time for pictures by the bluebonnet field, an annual ritual in Texas. I mean, you just can’t have Spring without a bluebonnet picture!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_vKNUGXJQwyyyTfYz27d4OhNVqzmcirSX4URH-q0vvGnaiUXf3K0lSF-8YQOjtjtegsCB1qvGD4Xpl_cLhaLU-7Z-0HoeC7yJ0FN8uH9La9p1r2bMdnilLt1hsWAgLH-mWwGqyvEGcs/s1600/Grayson+bluebonnets+031911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_vKNUGXJQwyyyTfYz27d4OhNVqzmcirSX4URH-q0vvGnaiUXf3K0lSF-8YQOjtjtegsCB1qvGD4Xpl_cLhaLU-7Z-0HoeC7yJ0FN8uH9La9p1r2bMdnilLt1hsWAgLH-mWwGqyvEGcs/s320/Grayson+bluebonnets+031911.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Walking down the various paths, my nose picked up on a pungently sweet scent that I had to hunt down. It turned out to be a Texas mountain laurel bush, which I now have on my list of landscaping plants for our yard. The plaque stated the blue blooms of the Texas mountain laurel attract long-tongued butterflies. Well, that sold me! Let those short-tongued butterflies find some other place to go! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzZmrcRvRLsNYXg8Vo6xZ632wlQdNcd2ux7WL2WrikBKhlXa0Yt_yqOroojjPExQWz88mmF594pcLEztfjoCn6Pzc-XqJxBrBDuDwd564jT7eCyDH6BWVZybr_ed5DTSpFBuIohQh9L0/s1600/mountain+laurel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzZmrcRvRLsNYXg8Vo6xZ632wlQdNcd2ux7WL2WrikBKhlXa0Yt_yqOroojjPExQWz88mmF594pcLEztfjoCn6Pzc-XqJxBrBDuDwd564jT7eCyDH6BWVZybr_ed5DTSpFBuIohQh9L0/s320/mountain+laurel.jpg" width="314" /></a></div>The open-air square at the Center had a number of tents set up with artisans’ wares. My favorite was the iron art, specifically the shaman yard art, based on ancient <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petroglyph">petroglyphs</a>. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkGJdXs21rpC1FiBhTtEQ-Yv-1CyJ4MT14GQW0VTmqU52cDgezrm3UuyLL3Tt6hnkjhfWLhuwh6NfyLNZ5qOU2ye2P6BHNLPDmMQ17wSLCZz3PuSFioWVuArPJlIHddxZrVOoGdHY0TQ/s1600/shaman+iron+art_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkGJdXs21rpC1FiBhTtEQ-Yv-1CyJ4MT14GQW0VTmqU52cDgezrm3UuyLL3Tt6hnkjhfWLhuwh6NfyLNZ5qOU2ye2P6BHNLPDmMQ17wSLCZz3PuSFioWVuArPJlIHddxZrVOoGdHY0TQ/s320/shaman+iron+art_1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>I think the shaman figure below may have been based on one of the Teletubbies. See what you think.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-u2ckVIkHAmlCwtrSx4_hGq6oBZYETCL3VIpEjIZMSWoHSYXBJSWzCr4wGMxNoYVO53ionLcAR1eibTrDE-vaWeQZOBRstrPHvr7REkUvdVu8e5BGtFC_qEAmMRlA9ufJiWqVNN36Ws/s1600/shaman+iron+art_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-u2ckVIkHAmlCwtrSx4_hGq6oBZYETCL3VIpEjIZMSWoHSYXBJSWzCr4wGMxNoYVO53ionLcAR1eibTrDE-vaWeQZOBRstrPHvr7REkUvdVu8e5BGtFC_qEAmMRlA9ufJiWqVNN36Ws/s320/shaman+iron+art_2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Anybody else doin' a double-take?!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vxFmFUHl-VNFJ3eRc1boN2xUlobPH1y9W2bTafu3OCWIL2KTl0kPMRs6GYUk2nmUYJJFQkU4rHSQYaMoulLw09KuydfwUV-yRijlysEljMhQHV9cExezn00fucuI4muIrjcoVz_tX0Y/s1600/teletubbies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vxFmFUHl-VNFJ3eRc1boN2xUlobPH1y9W2bTafu3OCWIL2KTl0kPMRs6GYUk2nmUYJJFQkU4rHSQYaMoulLw09KuydfwUV-yRijlysEljMhQHV9cExezn00fucuI4muIrjcoVz_tX0Y/s320/teletubbies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The crowning moment during our outing was a visit to the indoor artisan gallery. Since 1987, Gene has been trying to find a men’s turquoise and gold ring. While on our various trips, we usually check whether local jewelers carry any turquoise and gold ring combinations. It’s quite rare. Even those we have found haven’t been exactly what Gene was searching for. That is until now. We happened upon Fred and Barbara Stockbauer, Goldsmiths (www.fredstockbauer.com), who had a beautiful selection of men’s turquoise and gold rings, along with all their other exquisite jewelry. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUA70RYTfD3m3Gsz8ny-_0HoiKlhLwMtNrjhVGUCcycynFxrw-p8BQxsNXvD69pxHTtgneKryu7QTJkWnGkWPqzuI5wZDZvnsq7ykHVh3ih6-bCIKyxDTHgQFZDnlzqjWMxDv4p7tpoU/s1600/Barbara+%2526+Fred+Stockbauer+Jewelers_2_031911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUA70RYTfD3m3Gsz8ny-_0HoiKlhLwMtNrjhVGUCcycynFxrw-p8BQxsNXvD69pxHTtgneKryu7QTJkWnGkWPqzuI5wZDZvnsq7ykHVh3ih6-bCIKyxDTHgQFZDnlzqjWMxDv4p7tpoU/s320/Barbara+%2526+Fred+Stockbauer+Jewelers_2_031911.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>When Gene tried this one on, we knew it was the ring he’d been looking for. The stone came from the <a href="http://www.indianvillage.com/arizonaturquoisemines.htm">Morenci Mine</a>, located in Southeastern Arizona, and is a collectable turquoise since the mine is now depleted.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILxruQVNL73IzNysVuRlIdgNZ9A4cdbQGQmup2X8-h_qAN0WVTV2jfNMy-vJSooaD3whToB9zIOj2HHbFpoWJkx2GSoZ09xrfpr5HXAQrijcdSPtACfKz3jyJT9huk7f0MUUy0r5Ugls/s1600/Turquoise+%2526+Gold+ring+031911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILxruQVNL73IzNysVuRlIdgNZ9A4cdbQGQmup2X8-h_qAN0WVTV2jfNMy-vJSooaD3whToB9zIOj2HHbFpoWJkx2GSoZ09xrfpr5HXAQrijcdSPtACfKz3jyJT9huk7f0MUUy0r5Ugls/s320/Turquoise+%2526+Gold+ring+031911.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>In every way, it was a wonderfully blue day – blue skies, blue laurel, bluebonnets and turquoise! <br />
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“If you’ve never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, maybe your soul has never been in bloom.” –Audra Foveo<br />
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"Where flowers bloom so does hope." --Ladybird Johnson<br />
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“None can have a healthy love for flowers unless he loves the wild ones."--Forbes Watson <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Everything’s Better with Bluebonnets On It, Y’all! </span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-42336652977798737172011-03-18T11:22:00.001-05:002011-04-28T09:50:04.881-05:00Tantalizing Trailer Treats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGoj1YK9H_x3_XKU3IFiQBaPSSYgo7eukK_s-i4Sko4OeAQOGZ8pg8si2FoAZqqApfzShP-iZy5JCERi8JYHUDPEtIEuKIauzxqsLTlJ_2Z-y_lfrNZaTyLHslqKtOy13pO_UpZhfif4/s1600/Paige+Bridges_KITE.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252px" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGoj1YK9H_x3_XKU3IFiQBaPSSYgo7eukK_s-i4Sko4OeAQOGZ8pg8si2FoAZqqApfzShP-iZy5JCERi8JYHUDPEtIEuKIauzxqsLTlJ_2Z-y_lfrNZaTyLHslqKtOy13pO_UpZhfif4/s320/Paige+Bridges_KITE.gif" width="320px" /></a></div>It was a glorious, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and we were in search of a fabulous hotdog. The traffic in Austin was beginning to build as Austinites and visitors to the Texas Music Capitol began embarking on the first weekend of the South by Southwest Music Festival, commonly referred to as “SXSW”. Gene was approaching his boiling point as we searched in vain for a fancy hotdog joint downtown. I suggested we get back to the East Side, the chilled-out area of Austin where we live. As soon as we passed under IH-35, I sensed that Gene’s stress began to dissipate. <br />
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We ditched the idea of hotdogs, and set out to find an East Austin funky food stop. The first place tried, the <a href="http://eastsideshowroom.com/">East Side Show Room</a>, wasn’t open for lunch, so we kept driving down 6th Street. I nearly wet my pants as Gene hollered, “HOTDOGS!”, pointing to the left side of the street. There, peeking above a fence was a red, British double-decker bus with “cheese steaks”, “burgers” and “dogs” painted on the side. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7jhVWAYzxvxouSapASG04iYYbMmeqbxP7foQfbyrc6yXh75GzI2eHQg_A4UEGejt90VUJtwmmDdFC7uZojpYXY9S-ZzRmC_EHc6YQir30RLL9O9Tua1fjW4pSVvTa3zhjxS3jodmDr8/s1600/East+Side+Trailer+Park+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7jhVWAYzxvxouSapASG04iYYbMmeqbxP7foQfbyrc6yXh75GzI2eHQg_A4UEGejt90VUJtwmmDdFC7uZojpYXY9S-ZzRmC_EHc6YQir30RLL9O9Tua1fjW4pSVvTa3zhjxS3jodmDr8/s320/East+Side+Trailer+Park+2.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>We parked around the corner, and as we entered the <a href="http://eastsidedrivein.com/">East Side Drive-In</a>, located at 6th Street and San Marcos, our eyes scanned the small semi-circle of trailers with trendy names like The Local Yolk, Ugly Banjos, Bits & Druthers, Pig Vicious and more. <br />
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We saw a small sign at the entrance directing us to fish & chips, one of Gene’s favorite dishes, at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/BitsAndDruthers">Bits & Druthers</a>, so we quickly headed in the direction of the British flag. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKpPzqW-nyhwHN58EoILer-6JPWUpcj8HMDuMjhef4Zi2hnoG1EEjZBuyLXfHzIe4018IkU42CCAlJl2-oJSKB7mDvQwipmh5AN_SOjjv7TOp9ddmAXYiiZZJ1Fej2hyEZUO9k93Q7xE/s1600/Bits+%2526+Druthers+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKpPzqW-nyhwHN58EoILer-6JPWUpcj8HMDuMjhef4Zi2hnoG1EEjZBuyLXfHzIe4018IkU42CCAlJl2-oJSKB7mDvQwipmh5AN_SOjjv7TOp9ddmAXYiiZZJ1Fej2hyEZUO9k93Q7xE/s320/Bits+%2526+Druthers+2.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div>Gene stepped up to the small window of the red, white and blue trailer and ordered his fish & chips. As we waited for the fish to cook, we chatted with Josh and Shannon (fancy fish fryers extraordinaire). <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SnNsL12ScaiPwU-ObZ4pj2YES82H8YrEcNuZ2vrLftRQIUkQqjACGaT7Xuwb4o-464OMYB9GynKZncFQkRjQV16hWrAetZkq-vG7umZihQ8UXVbv0FBo5JlNCP03k_8cIDzsDjkwtdw/s1600/Bits+%2526+Druthers+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SnNsL12ScaiPwU-ObZ4pj2YES82H8YrEcNuZ2vrLftRQIUkQqjACGaT7Xuwb4o-464OMYB9GynKZncFQkRjQV16hWrAetZkq-vG7umZihQ8UXVbv0FBo5JlNCP03k_8cIDzsDjkwtdw/s320/Bits+%2526+Druthers+3.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div>Friendly and full of entertaining information, these two chipper (pun intended) people explained how the owner started Bits & Druthers after learning to cook the UK staple of fish & chips while living in the land of the Queen Mother. We also learned that Bits & Druthers does not skimp on quality. The fish is fresh haddock from <a href="http://www.qualityseafoodmarket.com/">Quality Seafood</a>, one of our favorite seafood stops, which I’ve previously blogged about, and the tartar sauce is homemade. <br />
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We didn’t even make it to the next trailer before I had to return to Bits & Druthers to let Josh and Shannon know that theirs was the best fish & chips we’d eaten in Austin. The fish was incredibly fresh, and the batter was…perfection! Crisp, delicious and not at all soggy or greasy. We can’t wait to go back for more! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCa8sJlGoCyQY2oEKdj0eKbLZIFueRza0ZLdnImfHwOcAG_bBQoxiCD5wEM6Rlln8AahLd0TUGOIezgf0vpGSlspQvIXh-1LX8cBdIFZeFTpTqLrvwR-OcffhuSVqZ2mVqZFn67ICOAac/s1600/Bits+%2526+Druthers+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCa8sJlGoCyQY2oEKdj0eKbLZIFueRza0ZLdnImfHwOcAG_bBQoxiCD5wEM6Rlln8AahLd0TUGOIezgf0vpGSlspQvIXh-1LX8cBdIFZeFTpTqLrvwR-OcffhuSVqZ2mVqZFn67ICOAac/s320/Bits+%2526+Druthers+4.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div>Our next stop was <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Ugly-Banjos/179938668698577">Ugly Banjos</a>, known for its homestyle cookin’. And, who could resist a name like that? It was a must-try for me!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCI0h4AGMOFIey2fWZzce1bcce5rVClggHQQqbf4N0r9WClx8S3NqvD57wdLsW8X4KmWnr4axBCk3PAl-1ggnM9_Ll4auUJbbpmhi3S4HV_IkDdTA4tVH6xfdSk1DmRRdsUvLajL4Y08/s1600/Ugly+Banjos+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCI0h4AGMOFIey2fWZzce1bcce5rVClggHQQqbf4N0r9WClx8S3NqvD57wdLsW8X4KmWnr4axBCk3PAl-1ggnM9_Ll4auUJbbpmhi3S4HV_IkDdTA4tVH6xfdSk1DmRRdsUvLajL4Y08/s320/Ugly+Banjos+2.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>The red trailer and colorful handwritten chalkboard menu, lined with bottle tops, boasted of several tempting treats. (Check out the Fried Oreos!)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7WzpkrMGtJmTKjxW7PYcV02g32GJMZDhuim6u_6JfCzNrUOiKIZgPBxsvKQSLX16EqVSOx5dE-lts8gHl02CS1t6bdz-vbx819xaVdTBokoJCZ1BXPE8mlTfZVA2ajgAPR0gLxBwsVuM/s1600/Ugly+Banjos+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7WzpkrMGtJmTKjxW7PYcV02g32GJMZDhuim6u_6JfCzNrUOiKIZgPBxsvKQSLX16EqVSOx5dE-lts8gHl02CS1t6bdz-vbx819xaVdTBokoJCZ1BXPE8mlTfZVA2ajgAPR0gLxBwsVuM/s320/Ugly+Banjos+1.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div>Making a decision was difficult, but I eventually settled on the Jimmy Crack Chicken. With the anticipation of large SXSW crowds, Ugly Banjos decided to tone down their menu, which many trailer eateries were doing, but encouraged me to come back after the festival for the “cracked up” version of this soon-to-be-famous “sammich”. Even without the collard greens and hatch green chile macaroni and cheese (see the <a href="http://uglybanjos.com/">online menu</a>), this sandwich was stand-alone genius! The buttermilk fried chicken breast contained a perfectly seasoned cornmeal crust, providing an interesting texture and awesome flavor. Served on a ciabatta bun with honey truffle butter for a tinge of sweetness, a big slice of tomato, cheese, lettuce and jalapeños, served with kettle-style potato chips, the Jimmy Crack Chicken Sammich was a lip-smackin’ delicious treat! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NjXWhyEh5S5FTvOQGf-o_KXOwgx1uxKovhjmpkfH1o-lhrqbHJpqGmxrJMXk570p5Wa1GdGGqBVoyn_d_u6O7B76Rd4ge3ODrI98QE1t72tC17lq3-PkXQ9Gk0HWvD0zEfU5dCl7cSk/s1600/Ugly+Banjos+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NjXWhyEh5S5FTvOQGf-o_KXOwgx1uxKovhjmpkfH1o-lhrqbHJpqGmxrJMXk570p5Wa1GdGGqBVoyn_d_u6O7B76Rd4ge3ODrI98QE1t72tC17lq3-PkXQ9Gk0HWvD0zEfU5dCl7cSk/s320/Ugly+Banjos+6.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>The co-owners, Matthew Schaefer, (right), and his sidekick, Michael Hegar (left), were enthusiastic about their food and location, as well as the décor for the trailer. Gene loved the fact that Ugly Banjos serves Dublin Dr. Pepper! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsE3gl-A7D6-DzoEZTagO_LzB7BAlaoZE0813mobXGgP0hGV4mbmQ8LJ9XSQUuZO18hQcrOFtCSyBR6Neqe0zQYaja3tPjYfsgDa8f49sO5xVmrAUwXqSqH7g_El0nwNMYT6Oc5YchV3k/s1600/Ugly+Banjo+Boys+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsE3gl-A7D6-DzoEZTagO_LzB7BAlaoZE0813mobXGgP0hGV4mbmQ8LJ9XSQUuZO18hQcrOFtCSyBR6Neqe0zQYaja3tPjYfsgDa8f49sO5xVmrAUwXqSqH7g_El0nwNMYT6Oc5YchV3k/s320/Ugly+Banjo+Boys+4.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>And, speaking of décor, I was immediately drawn to the cigar-smoking, mustached, yellow mascot standing outside on the counter. This commissioned piece of festive metal was made by local artist, Mike Poulson, located at <a href="http://www.slackerville.org/">Slackerville</a>, 2209 South 1st Street, whose entertaining iron work Gene and I have seen.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjNznfrF7_UBHruzBHYQsl92c6aae8z_1OyiPB1uBu1PqTwxMUMT_Qjt68RhaDHnTJG80P9ZqFYMhnyilxTpCSFhICybIOcVa4KLgZb0NYiK5WH2pfffaXybgRo9XcUQlWraQ58VCFFY/s1600/Ugly+Banjos+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjNznfrF7_UBHruzBHYQsl92c6aae8z_1OyiPB1uBu1PqTwxMUMT_Qjt68RhaDHnTJG80P9ZqFYMhnyilxTpCSFhICybIOcVa4KLgZb0NYiK5WH2pfffaXybgRo9XcUQlWraQ58VCFFY/s320/Ugly+Banjos+3.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div>Rest assured, Gene and I will be back to try every single item on the menu at Ugly Banjos!!<br />
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Yesterday, on St. Patrick’s Day, I returned to the East Side Drive-In to celebrate Tami’s birthday, a dear friend of mine. Naturally, I wanted to take her to Ugly Banjos or Bits & Druthers, but we arrived too early in the day and were too hungry to wait until noon. So, we tried our luck at <a href="http://www.thelocalyolkaustin.com/">The Local Yolk</a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKicU4yslqARLzhXw7iS5walpgKoN_9iu26L4CnGu5JkBaBVKveX6ACMC26RPvcFybnSymrKPDmpe_r0mA1JPku0ZhmOOEjPJMzTwt0EsrFaugOYvnOtYEdbn41w9-uJeOchDOeFKxKk/s1600/The+Local+Yolk.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKicU4yslqARLzhXw7iS5walpgKoN_9iu26L4CnGu5JkBaBVKveX6ACMC26RPvcFybnSymrKPDmpe_r0mA1JPku0ZhmOOEjPJMzTwt0EsrFaugOYvnOtYEdbn41w9-uJeOchDOeFKxKk/s320/The+Local+Yolk.bmp" width="320px" /></a></div>Like Ugly Banjos, the Local Yolk had trimmed down its menu, offering only a few sandwiches, but <a href="http://www.thelocalyolkaustin.com/menu/">The Florence</a> was a yummy early lunch for two gals that hadn’t eaten breakfast. The Florence consisted of a fried egg sandwich with pesto, mozzarella and tomato. Good flavor and fresh. <br />
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For some reason, just being in this cozy group of trailer eateries made me think of Roger Miller’s “King of the Road”. (Actually, Gene does have a trailer for sale.)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OmOe27SJ3Yc" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe><br />
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Tami and I ate and talked and watched all the entertaining young people. The best outfits by far, though, were two young guys enjoying SXSW in their green garb for St. Patty’s Day. The young man on the left was originally from Russia, now living in Austin, and was giving a plug for music on Thursday nights in the bar at <a href="http://www.hotelvegasaustin.com/">Hotel Vegas</a> on 6th & Comal. The fella on the right was in town for SXSW visiting from Austria. Dig those brown suede leather britches! Yodel-ay-hee-hooooo!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqm3w53i1BPQJXQ5xBSzsBWf0rITPre8CThJlFl_g68_so58RD8sfMhdLyTXnYcl6vn3VRsJo6fI9r5T09TZW2Q56G2UoZfq1WsReCvF_Gbc0pexPv2yXFmzMlNKUcnMZq6H2E26SQfyQ/s1600/St.+Patty%2527s+at+East+Side+TP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqm3w53i1BPQJXQ5xBSzsBWf0rITPre8CThJlFl_g68_so58RD8sfMhdLyTXnYcl6vn3VRsJo6fI9r5T09TZW2Q56G2UoZfq1WsReCvF_Gbc0pexPv2yXFmzMlNKUcnMZq6H2E26SQfyQ/s320/St.+Patty%2527s+at+East+Side+TP.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div>There are so many trailer park eateries in Austin to try that I may just have to change the name of my blog to The Texas Trailer Twang. It’s got a certain ring to it, dontcha think?<br />
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“I don't know what I did in this life to deserve all of this. I'm just a girl from a trailer park who had a dream.” –Hilary Swank<br />
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“Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” –Harriet Van Horne<br />
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“Life itself is the proper binge.” –Julia Childs<br />
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(Note: The top picture is by <a href="http://www.vintagetraveltrailerart.com/about_the_artist.htm">Paige Bridges</a>, a Northeast Texas artist. See her vast array of wonderful <a href="http://www.vintagetraveltrailerart.com/VintageTravelTrailerArt.htm">vintage trailer art</a>.)<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Support Your Local Trailer Park Eateries, Y’all!!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-59893999894945382472011-02-24T16:42:00.010-06:002011-03-18T11:34:46.886-05:00Sew Much Fun!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6k9fT41qPO3XiMuMJ_zRWg_QKJyeheCHMQSf5TSNa94inOa9uSYr9aYps7X-sO7M-lmZ0g2UEhI2Q8pYpyQRPRzHmZEgyGT3luTRIghlQjVCizslY_CglgMP3j70E6S3HFUsl6qO7Cl8/s1600/100_4290.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577390370293658194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6k9fT41qPO3XiMuMJ_zRWg_QKJyeheCHMQSf5TSNa94inOa9uSYr9aYps7X-sO7M-lmZ0g2UEhI2Q8pYpyQRPRzHmZEgyGT3luTRIghlQjVCizslY_CglgMP3j70E6S3HFUsl6qO7Cl8/s320/100_4290.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
(Update: As of 3/13/11, the name of the quilting club has been changed to Sisters-in-Stitches.)<br />
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Last month while participating in one of my favorite pastimes, Girl Chit-Chat, Patricia, a friend of mine from church, and I discovered that both of us were quilters. Patricia, being fairly new to quilting, suggested we get together from time to time. Another gal from church overheard us and said she’d be interested in joining us and had a daughter-in-law who also was an avid quilter. That is the moment we created the Austin Ward Quilting Club.<br />
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Last night was the first monthly meeting of the Austin Ward Quilting Club. Patricia and I had gotten the word out through flyers, email and Facebook. I enlisted the help of my dear friend, Tami Horvath, Decorator Extraordinaire, to setup the meeting room with me. And, as the meeting kicked off, five women were in attendance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUK51QAX8LZkvRtdvsop8kRsFfe0tctXGIzF7k3ywSr33fzXbYm6oT_CVuScJOYTk8gPlMaY58xo-bhUKXSi4z4zeG3a0JmEi5zvZj0KgsTZD_wZXBpKzVkHdI56_zqDK4w_hO2DivcYc/s1600/Farm+Women+working+on+quilt.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577390832898433074" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUK51QAX8LZkvRtdvsop8kRsFfe0tctXGIzF7k3ywSr33fzXbYm6oT_CVuScJOYTk8gPlMaY58xo-bhUKXSi4z4zeG3a0JmEi5zvZj0KgsTZD_wZXBpKzVkHdI56_zqDK4w_hO2DivcYc/s320/Farm+Women+working+on+quilt.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 319px;" /></a><br />
I was the speaker for our first meeting on Quilting Basics, and as the night progressed, more women showed up. By the time I was halfway through my lesson, I counted 14 women, which was the number of chairs I had set out. Some of the ones in attendance had not previously expressed interest, which means we may have more members at future meetings!<br />
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For decoration, Tami strung thick gauge wire across one wall of the room and draped three of my quilts over it – The Bear’s Paw Quilt, The Dresden Plate Quilt and my wall hanging. My only regret is that I didn’t bring a camera to take pictures. What was I thinking?! I do have other pictures of the quilts that I can share, though, to give you some idea of what the club members saw at our meeting.<br />
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Below is a picture of the Bear’s Paw Quilt I made for my father. This quilt was machine-pieced and hand-quilted. It was a bit of a bear for me to make, which is appropriate, since the recipient is a bit of a bear at times, too. This took a year for me to finish, simply because I kept setting it aside to work on other things.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdTzZ00xttHIROd51j20PmJnsVNAI1bEyJ0CZZsQ2UnakHDNiPFG0d4bmpWXbgvpWW-J9_SPbf24tLd0pU3g8Vw_gPsN5j4dWD7wX0uxWh8jyq7F7iPlevl96pteShivUTaMA4Xv-NT4/s1600/100_3940.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577391334032277314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdTzZ00xttHIROd51j20PmJnsVNAI1bEyJ0CZZsQ2UnakHDNiPFG0d4bmpWXbgvpWW-J9_SPbf24tLd0pU3g8Vw_gPsN5j4dWD7wX0uxWh8jyq7F7iPlevl96pteShivUTaMA4Xv-NT4/s320/100_3940.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
Here’s a picture of the Dresden Plate Quilt I made for my mother, which was all hand-sewn, appliquéd and hand-quilted. I consider this my “therapy” quilt, which I made during the year I was unemployed, living on the Double M Ranch with my parents. This quilt took 2 months to make.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuShLiKbu1DqCiSgFdA-TH7Jt1go-3iL1vAZKG0DFAMiv7_BJdBbpibcw8zCvzNRR6RR7Ro8PsKtsMjN8PHi-3TbHL8r8Cf7m8uu-aKkc0lYDPTerJw-FoGFfZ_-GpwldUWKQEfbFn8Jc/s1600/Mom%2527s+Quilt_2_Oct2008.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577402194863334354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuShLiKbu1DqCiSgFdA-TH7Jt1go-3iL1vAZKG0DFAMiv7_BJdBbpibcw8zCvzNRR6RR7Ro8PsKtsMjN8PHi-3TbHL8r8Cf7m8uu-aKkc0lYDPTerJw-FoGFfZ_-GpwldUWKQEfbFn8Jc/s320/Mom%2527s+Quilt_2_Oct2008.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
The last quilt displayed on the wall was my appliquéd wall hanging. I hand pieced, appliquéd and hand-quilted this antique-patterned quilt in two months. I made it while working for Visa. I lived in northern Virginia and traveled twice a month on a 5-hour flight to Visa’s headquarters in San Francisco, California. I stored the pieces in baggies and used my fingernail clippers to cut the thread, since I couldn’t take any scissors aboard – needles and clippers were acceptable, though.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBN_Yg_gPyXyFt8LZwQqnU3V3pBdkEXmcuCG8Fy58Vne0ICybYLX9BEDnalgLCauAhujHc-Kqt1Z-xMrSmvGXCXQaPEMzTNnmuHHf-sLTaS-YPF5FELYmfNil2QkXw2l_anIdFJu0vwRU/s1600/Grayson%2527s+Quilt+Hanging_2.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577402974113368146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBN_Yg_gPyXyFt8LZwQqnU3V3pBdkEXmcuCG8Fy58Vne0ICybYLX9BEDnalgLCauAhujHc-Kqt1Z-xMrSmvGXCXQaPEMzTNnmuHHf-sLTaS-YPF5FELYmfNil2QkXw2l_anIdFJu0vwRU/s320/Grayson%2527s+Quilt+Hanging_2.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
On the long, rectangular table in front of me, Tami draped the LeMoyne Star Quilt, which was the second quilt I made. This is one I created for my son, Eric, who at that time was 8 years old and picked out one of the hardest patterns in my quilting book. He also selected the fabric and colors. I learned my lesson that I don’t allow my “quiltees” to pick out patterns for their quilts. Atop the quilt, Tami displayed books, fabric, other sewing notions and quilting tools, which I explained during my lesson.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9F5KwGKAgeOyT-UDu9FGoO7DuRBRxO2rH_s8kxmfwi9exqE4dJQ2Tohnp9KmW8MOwDW93U-JfXKWnXk4TjOW3OaXuDO7jylqHLnTAseoMiezkWYXF7QbsdA0qJUlJrpoPNfwBUpg_Gg/s1600/Eric%2527s+Quilt.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577403805100711218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9F5KwGKAgeOyT-UDu9FGoO7DuRBRxO2rH_s8kxmfwi9exqE4dJQ2Tohnp9KmW8MOwDW93U-JfXKWnXk4TjOW3OaXuDO7jylqHLnTAseoMiezkWYXF7QbsdA0qJUlJrpoPNfwBUpg_Gg/s320/Eric%2527s+Quilt.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 225px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
Susan, Janie and Patricia have experience making quilts, but the remainder of our club members have never made a quilt before, so this will be a wonderful opportunity to share our skills and talents with those who want to learn. Even Tami, who was just there to help me decorate, has caught the quilting bug and has decided to make an art quilt. Awesome!<br />
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<strong>Public Apology:</strong> I’d like to express my sincere thanks to Christine Cain, Young Women’s President, who allowed us to stay in the room where we initially set up the quilts. I had no idea there was a protocol for reserving rooms at the church, but Christine graciously moved her meeting to another room. Christine, I won’t make that mistake again. Thank you so much!!<br />
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“Methinks it is a token of healthy and gentle characteristics, when women of high thoughts and accomplishments love to sew; especially as they are never more at home with their own hearts than while so occupied.” ~Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Marble Faun, 1859<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">Happy Quilting, Y’all! </span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-12092056048937087362011-02-18T23:28:00.014-06:002011-02-19T00:01:22.164-06:00Watching My Wordy Ways<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CO9EviO1w-BDLBH_V3dembxLCD4BFBvzoAgA-sl_8B0Y6C1DqbwqN-haDpJJDPcoxyDl4H8d3SS0FNDhD9fXmqrFtdDovePJHSlUS2-Eea-0MAK7u4z4FgK7-wIy0mD-7N9BRJiG6mw/s1600/pen+in+head.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 222px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575268656192463986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CO9EviO1w-BDLBH_V3dembxLCD4BFBvzoAgA-sl_8B0Y6C1DqbwqN-haDpJJDPcoxyDl4H8d3SS0FNDhD9fXmqrFtdDovePJHSlUS2-Eea-0MAK7u4z4FgK7-wIy0mD-7N9BRJiG6mw/s320/pen+in+head.jpg" /></a><br />As a business analyst by trade, I swim each day in an ocean of minutiae. My world is made up of facts and words, and as such, I have a virtual red pen in my head. My eyes read over a sentence in a business requirement, a paperback novel, a magazine, a newspaper article, a blog, and as I ingest the content, I see the grammatical errors, misspelled words and misuse of words. While it is a blessing, providing me with a desire to produce professional internal and external documentation for work, it is also a curse.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6BbN2GLbiyadg2aCWlAbkbCyDWeGAJf8s_sddMkTuc2P4UxYFU2zRir06hTZXbE248su8pXV84pwlD6C5VlIz5VeRVN117IkwWWQAh37MBw_szI6raKQodrmwUMHS-JJdcO0pScWbp0/s1600/underwater+desk.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 242px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575268659497814738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6BbN2GLbiyadg2aCWlAbkbCyDWeGAJf8s_sddMkTuc2P4UxYFU2zRir06hTZXbE248su8pXV84pwlD6C5VlIz5VeRVN117IkwWWQAh37MBw_szI6raKQodrmwUMHS-JJdcO0pScWbp0/s320/underwater+desk.jpg" /></a><br />As a younger woman, much more self-centered, I was inclined to dish out criticism without considering how it might sound to the receiving party. Over the years, I’ve worked hard on my personal and professional communication skills, my delivery of words and my ability to hear criticism. But, no matter how much I improve, I am still a work-in-progress.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUb6Z-ESVQRisTrO6fV6XX-ASxkt_zcz4bbROzJWQMTMwapg7_wzp_NJpDnYLuKi_fq_SekjioACzIxQjCbnTQJm6TxlPWBgxKAVNvkRMOa6nGyfNohuwHCMHyUadXOsfE7OMKOABmTKY/s1600/work-in-progress.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575271109232362322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUb6Z-ESVQRisTrO6fV6XX-ASxkt_zcz4bbROzJWQMTMwapg7_wzp_NJpDnYLuKi_fq_SekjioACzIxQjCbnTQJm6TxlPWBgxKAVNvkRMOa6nGyfNohuwHCMHyUadXOsfE7OMKOABmTKY/s320/work-in-progress.jpg" /></a><br />Words have power – the power to communicate ideas, to create, to uplift, to cajole, to enlighten, to teach, to entertain, to provoke thought, to inspire action. And, words also have the power to demean, to offend, to insult, to ridicule, to stifle, to abuse, and to incite anger. Whether we desire a world of peace, joy and happiness, an accomplished goal at work or an eternal marriage, we must learn to use restraint of pen and tongue, think before we speak, ponder before sending an email or consult a trusted confidante before acting impulsively.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDotU8nssBDg2QuJ9WQchr7Ulj1ojNBUGh9OaRYo-dkjWDXtBrsWf4sbY6BzOQkJYcDQFDZgNNvHopn9DOAiNfE7qDwyGhw-794WmAw-4QgwdDD-dx4eT-H_yEGQsWm5kEX23a6sb9o0/s1600/words.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575271387643019826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDotU8nssBDg2QuJ9WQchr7Ulj1ojNBUGh9OaRYo-dkjWDXtBrsWf4sbY6BzOQkJYcDQFDZgNNvHopn9DOAiNfE7qDwyGhw-794WmAw-4QgwdDD-dx4eT-H_yEGQsWm5kEX23a6sb9o0/s320/words.jpg" /></a><br />Most of us would prefer to avoid conflict with others on a daily basis. But, as human beings of unique creation, we will undoubtedly bump into others who do not share our vision or ideals on occasion. How we communicate with and react to others is a personal test for us all.<br /><br />Am I offended by what you wrote, said or how you behaved? If so, I should take a look at myself, because I certainly have no power to change you. If your words or actions upset me, I must look at your motive. Is there one? Most times, a person’s behavior and words are not designed to harm me. In fact, they may have nothing to do with me. I may’ve just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.<br /><br />The English version of The Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi offers an outstanding guide by which we may each assess our own shortcomings as we relate to others.<br /><br /><em>Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.<br />Where there is hatred, let me sow love.<br />Where there is injury, pardon.<br />Where there is doubt, faith.<br />Where there is despair, hope.<br />Where there is darkness, light.<br />Where there is sadness, joy.<br />O Divine Master,<br />grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;<br />to be understood, as to understand;<br />to be loved, as to love.<br />For it is in giving that we receive.<br />It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,<br />and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.<br />Amen.</em><br /><br />In my quest to understand how I may best use my words for good, I have identified a pattern, or opportunity, that is recurring in my life, an area in which I need to improve – dealing with micro-managers.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7YM-Eao6vZ50qSSBYtHf4yYEhYdcvtDVuxYfuGvjxLW02OIz_-cIX5D1Hnexicqvba2pjN5WAjKLS2UEUrSAwDyWeDUWMLc6kDrNFD8yVlX_PNIy-KbsrhOh4zz-Z1tg1M7jreb4TD0/s1600/micro-manage.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575271889785030482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7YM-Eao6vZ50qSSBYtHf4yYEhYdcvtDVuxYfuGvjxLW02OIz_-cIX5D1Hnexicqvba2pjN5WAjKLS2UEUrSAwDyWeDUWMLc6kDrNFD8yVlX_PNIy-KbsrhOh4zz-Z1tg1M7jreb4TD0/s320/micro-manage.jpg" /></a><br />If my manager or other leaders are attempting to micro-manage me, it is important to recognize that the behavior of micro-management is not about me. Micro-management is about control, narcissism, fear, emotional insecurity and ego. Wikipedia.com states that symptoms of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Micromanagement#Symptoms">micro-management </a>include:<br /><br />• Unwillingness to delegate<br />• Need for overly detailed reporting<br />• Bullying<br />• Narcissism<br />• Perfectionism<br />• Behavioral dependence upon controlling others<br />• Hyper-criticism<br /><br />Life is beyond our control, so the micro-manager, which may be a boss or other type of leader in our lives, feels the need to control all things that may reflect back on her or him. Ironically, micro-managers do not gain devotion and respect from those over whom the leader has stewardship. Rather, they create resentment, lower productivity, disrespect and distrust among their group.<br /><br />How can I adjust to the feeling of new screws being torqued where perfectly tight screws already exist? I can say a prayer for that person (similar to The Prayer of St. Assisi), pick my battles, and manage my own expectations. I can practice the “art” of communication by choosing my words wisely, practicing love and tolerance of others.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAexxI0hbux1Ovc9nOXlS1oY0PzOkUImX5o1LgtSW8b_CgFYlBmU9Zoe3ueGzuRn0-SesxT9Q05pqbXpcb3wcuTs9p_wDGccyDbfmLVfBq9kzzS5-XshO_2FP8C9dv31lN6eGVafzDyaI/s1600/words-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 247px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575272842674507778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAexxI0hbux1Ovc9nOXlS1oY0PzOkUImX5o1LgtSW8b_CgFYlBmU9Zoe3ueGzuRn0-SesxT9Q05pqbXpcb3wcuTs9p_wDGccyDbfmLVfBq9kzzS5-XshO_2FP8C9dv31lN6eGVafzDyaI/s320/words-1.jpg" /></a><br />And, what if you are someone who displays the tendencies listed above? Take the “I” out of micro-management, and please just stay out of my way.<br /><br />"Go on, get out. Last words are for fools who haven't said enough."--Karl Marx<br /><br />“Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.” --Psalms 19:14<br /><br />“When words are scarce, they are hardly spent in vain.” –William Shakespeare<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="400" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MZjAantupsA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Word Up, Y’all!</span></strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1155637121939679236.post-3137794266524813562011-02-16T12:39:00.017-06:002011-02-16T13:38:06.795-06:00Harebrained Holiday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsq_e2pmUyrOT71i8cmWmkLKVmwIhY2tDR6N10ytyfmbuKccyeBtv5fVPcIt1QLs_QFLzDAqxFH-KyaqFDxW6OF9ZrwXbH17p1k2meN7t1p5nC-D5PQL3BpT3mM0Bu3X6nO5iPcieGbao/s1600/harebrained.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574359637134197122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsq_e2pmUyrOT71i8cmWmkLKVmwIhY2tDR6N10ytyfmbuKccyeBtv5fVPcIt1QLs_QFLzDAqxFH-KyaqFDxW6OF9ZrwXbH17p1k2meN7t1p5nC-D5PQL3BpT3mM0Bu3X6nO5iPcieGbao/s320/harebrained.jpg" /></a><br />Last Saturday, as my husband and I entered the grocery store, I was overwhelmed by the attack of red and pink – red and pink balloons, red heart boxes full of chocolates, pink cupcakes, red heart-shaped cookies and cakes, red and pink roses, wrapped in red and pink tissue paper with red and pink ribbons. I just about puked! As we walked past, I told Gene that under no circumstances was he to buy me anything for Valentine’s Day – no flowers, no chocolates, no cakes or cookies, not even a card. I know Gene loves me. He shows me every day. I don’t need anything red or pink on Valentine’s Day for him to prove it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrXTkMK3Lip2Y0mp3D5B9lWU_IjckeI1h22tfVBRzSincSqfPh9WZ3CdSE8QnbkEaqBZdI7pqiiNA34dff9wlKLN7rN9aUTXSvtz0D4SK31WxCUdOZZwUxiDcwroWI-nYSwBzQh34p6eU/s1600/valentines-chocolate.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574361262486625618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrXTkMK3Lip2Y0mp3D5B9lWU_IjckeI1h22tfVBRzSincSqfPh9WZ3CdSE8QnbkEaqBZdI7pqiiNA34dff9wlKLN7rN9aUTXSvtz0D4SK31WxCUdOZZwUxiDcwroWI-nYSwBzQh34p6eU/s320/valentines-chocolate.jpg" /></a><br />This year, for some reason, I am appalled by the commercialism of Valentine’s Day. Perhaps it’s because our country is still in economic turmoil. Maybe it’s because most anything I spend my dollars on costs so much more. (Do you remember when we all thought $2.00/gallon for gasoline was highway robbery?)<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.rama-nrf.org/">Retail Advertising and Marketing Association </a>estimated that U.S. consumers spent approximately $15.7 billion on Valentine’s Day. Are you kidding me?!<br /><br />The annual Valentine’s Day Consumer Intentions and Actions survey revealed what consumers intended to spend all that money on:<br /><dl><br />52.1% - Cards<br />47.5% - Candy<br />34.6% - Evening Out<br />34.3% - Flowers<br />17.3% - Jewelry<br />14.4% - Clothing<br />12.6% - Gift Cards<br />11.2% - Other Gifts<br /></dl><br />Valentine’s Day was originally called Saint Valentine’s Day, named after one of the early martyrs of the Catholic Church, Saint Valentine, and had nothing to do with romantic love. The holiday was established in 496 AD by Pope Gelasius.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OOKhKRS6d6ZK-SUidqyjVJSTIZjLlfOyyEhusu35OhosVbcJhkD1u9kfP5mVLMmhsu7uXn9ld17EtUW0u_X1bcKg41-Vv3rYKuCw-EzgBHUQAebfg4yFGaY7j-A6I80WIILz0whuMSQ/s1600/PopePaulVI.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 284px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574366220679920130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OOKhKRS6d6ZK-SUidqyjVJSTIZjLlfOyyEhusu35OhosVbcJhkD1u9kfP5mVLMmhsu7uXn9ld17EtUW0u_X1bcKg41-Vv3rYKuCw-EzgBHUQAebfg4yFGaY7j-A6I80WIILz0whuMSQ/s320/PopePaulVI.jpg" /></a><br />In 1969, Pope Paul VI had the feasting holiday removed from the Roman calendar of saints, and said, "Though the memorial of Saint Valentine is ancient, it is left to particular calendars, since, apart from his name, nothing is known of Saint Valentine except that he was buried on the Via Flaminia on February 14."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixcgMR0EewmB5hm26ctgO49WwoKZ4USnw4Z5VJ5qYtHRuI9uNV9yewM6bH5YV0pZsAOU3dfj4joC69LdyJhm-J38bCXzDAhsBissjS0ru_QdOEH8RJHpd5XH9wym_yNkfwID3BJbhj-Xc/s1600/Geoffrey_Chaucer_%252817th_century%2529.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 301px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574368745766921346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixcgMR0EewmB5hm26ctgO49WwoKZ4USnw4Z5VJ5qYtHRuI9uNV9yewM6bH5YV0pZsAOU3dfj4joC69LdyJhm-J38bCXzDAhsBissjS0ru_QdOEH8RJHpd5XH9wym_yNkfwID3BJbhj-Xc/s320/Geoffrey_Chaucer_%252817th_century%2529.jpg" /></a><br />We can blame the romantic association with Valentine’s Day on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geoffrey_Chaucer">Geoffrey Chaucer</a>, who in 1392 wrote a poem for King Richard II of England and Anne of Bohemia on the first anniversary of their engagement. It was entitled, Parlement of Foules, and began:<br /><br />"For this was on seynt Volantynys day<br />Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese is make."<br /><br />Translated: “For this was Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate.”<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgdf9fELT3ASbec0EVzyFaa1ZFPUF4Y1fATZRibtwjxlov-xIo7ik8zXKZeEo1z-Txgv7wJCdk0R9Ry-3-du06eSMhuufemsbwNNGgts-tlk-cIkHvks2CJIxD7Z2yulOy3U9pZQmozQ/s1600/llove+birds.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574360042425317266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgdf9fELT3ASbec0EVzyFaa1ZFPUF4Y1fATZRibtwjxlov-xIo7ik8zXKZeEo1z-Txgv7wJCdk0R9Ry-3-du06eSMhuufemsbwNNGgts-tlk-cIkHvks2CJIxD7Z2yulOy3U9pZQmozQ/s320/llove+birds.jpg" /></a><br />I’d just like to stress once again that we don’t need a special holiday to celebrate the romantic love we have for our mate or partner. The most romantic thing we can do is to determine how our mate feels most loved - physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation, quality time or acts of service (Read The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman) – and do something loving for that special person each day.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqgM9uw31nRGYAuteCo3Zn-SdzDa8amAwn6ce2fFtXR-rpfhAM3cD24g7doDCh5wVM_cl0yDWXU0vCsOi3mhhnJ6XpCNryt11Zp_eaC9Et_meKg_O3hky7DtyraJ6NhUS7jq8fpBXzcU/s1600/Five+Love+Languages.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 183px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 276px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574360302072356770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqgM9uw31nRGYAuteCo3Zn-SdzDa8amAwn6ce2fFtXR-rpfhAM3cD24g7doDCh5wVM_cl0yDWXU0vCsOi3mhhnJ6XpCNryt11Zp_eaC9Et_meKg_O3hky7DtyraJ6NhUS7jq8fpBXzcU/s320/Five+Love+Languages.jpg" /></a><br />What did I do lately for Gene? I cleaned the house Saturday, and delivered a banana to his office this morning because he was feeling sluggish. (I thought the potassium might do him good.) Gene feels loved through acts of service.<br /><br />What romantic thing did Gene do for me recently? He heard the song, “At Last” by Etta James, being piped in at Bed Bath & Beyond while we were shopping there Saturday. He surprised me while I was looking at the sheets on sale and began dancing with me and singing to me. I feel loved through physical touch and words of affirmation. I can assure you my heart was a melted loving puddle on the floor.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_Q2rZb7E0EY" frameborder="0" width="400"></iframe><br /><br />And, what about those who don’t have a special somebody in their lives?! How must they feel on this exclusionary, harebrained holiday? One of my friends at church has renamed Valentine’s Day to “Single Awareness Day”.<br /><br />I vow no more frivolous Valentine’s Day spending for me or my husband!!<br /><br /><strong>Share the Love Every Day, Y’all!</strong>Grayson Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14131660243794068833noreply@blogger.com0