Saturday on W. Alabama

Busy day on West Alabama—another delicious lunch at the Sylvia’s Taco Truck. Bliss! Corn on the cob and torta, with, of course, some chips. Wouldn’t want to short out our carbs.

            While we’re waiting for the food—about 5 minutes here came a demonstration. Planned Parenthood hit the street. All ages, from some still on the way to the dowager in the wheelchair who declared as a mother of eight she is prochoice.

 Good for Sylvia—many discovered they were mighty hungry when they saw the truck. 

H-Streats for lunch--the good life

H-Streats for lunch--the good life

Great lunch at H-Town Streats parked on Montrose by Inversion Coffee. Super food, wonderful company, beautiful blue sky! Beat that.

Avocado taco—ever had  deep-fried avocado slices? I recommend them. Akobe dog and a chicken-fried steak sandwich. And of course fries.

What’s the quotation I just read? "Are we slowly dying, or are we beginning to live?"

This is definitely beginning to live!

Grandson fun!

 

Dogs play, bark, wag, run, fetch. Enjoy the sun. Love being free without a leash or harsh word.

Boys are much the same. Running is fun.

Try it out someday with a grandson on the banks of beautiful Buffalo Bayou (thank you City of Houston!).

Enjoy life and the transcendent sculptures of Jaume Plensa.

Lovely afternoon.

http://www.jaumeplensa.com/

Another Sunday

Oh! Last Sunday was wonderful in Menil Park.

            For folks in the brrrr-cold part of the country, Houstonians seem like such wimps. We whine about the temperature being in the twenties. But, hey! Remember that we don’t have heavy coats; some of us don’t have gloves and Walgreen’s runs out of hats and sweatshirts in minutes. The houses are ready either. When the wind blows—well, at least in this old house—Come on in!

            So on Sunday, just like folks who’d had to dig out of snow banks and ice, folks who’d regarded thermometers showing below zero, we headed outside. I sure did.

            In one review of the Montrose neighborhood, Menil Park lying between the Menil Collection and Rothko Chapel was called the neighborhood’s front yard.  Certainly on Sunday, that is what it looked like. I brought my book for a sunny read. Families picnicked. Couples cooed. A couple of folks snoozed.  

Others made new friends and enjoyed old ones.

Most popular of all—The Red Swing. I even got a turn.

Then a new friend, maybe three, told me, “I can’t get up by myself.”

“Shall I help you?” She nodded.

“I don’t know how to swing myself.”

“Shall I push you?” She nodded.

We parted fast friends.

Sunday in Montrose--January

Sunday sauntering

Sun kisses azaleas

Breeze tosses my hair.

Last Day of November in the Post Office Parking Lot on Richmond

Clouds scudding away

Cold west wind blows the sky clear.

Get out the sweaters.

Sarah comes to Montrose

Sarah comes to our neighborhood

Ahhh! Just home from a walk the not quite mile and a half down to Borders where we gawked the crowd standing in line to get Sarah Palin’s autograph. Very docile bunch of folks. Not nearly the crowd we hear about at the neighborhood Barnes and Noble for Dubya, but then, he’s a local boy—sort of. There were plenty of cops and more than plenty media trucks. Much ado about. . .

Funny, W. and Sarah both making stops within a couple of miles of our house, and neither one of them dropped by for coffee. Dang it!

On the way home we walked by our “club.” But even for these two old Texans 11 a.m. is a bit early for a brew. We did pick up a couple of tacos from the Taco Caliente wagon for lunch. Never too early for one of their tacos!