Yes, dear readers, part of the lack of posts here is due to my mini-vacation mid-month to the Republic of Texas, to visit some fantastic friends. The same friends who came here this time last year.
And please note, for those of you who are planning vacations: the weather is generally much warmer in Texas, vs. Ontario, this time of year. You know, mid 70s to low 80s, rather than snow :)
I flew out of Buffalo on a plane that held approximately 5.7 people (okay, it wasn't that small, and isn't the smallest plane I've ever been on*, but it was still really small). After the worst flight of my life (first time I ever came *that* close to hurling on a plane. In fact, I was too sick to even think about looking for the barf bag, assuming those are still complimentary. Gotta love turbulence in a small plane, no?), I changed planes in Cleveland, then had a much better flight to the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, where I was met by Mr. Poodlebugs, and taken to the secret Poodlebug lair.
Okay, it's not a secret lair, but the highways in the Dallas-Fort Worth area are complex, large, and apparently multiplying at an alarming rate, given the construction I saw everywhere. My new version of hell: being trapped on Dallas-area highways, without a functioning GPS.
After surviving the Greeting of the Poodles, we hied our way to a local steak house for an incredible steak supper, then fought our vehicular way into downtown Dallas.
Where upon Ms. Poodlebugs abandoned me in favour of hearing some obscure author speak about his newest book.
Geesh! Like anyone else would pick Stephen King over me!!! ;)
To deal with our abandonment, Mr. PB and I went to a nearby bar, where upon I had my first-ever margarita (non-frozen variety).
|Cell phone photo of 1st margarita, with salsa and chips for scale.|
Oh, my. I have to say, a real margarita made with some damn good tequila compares to those university tequila shots with the mandatory licking-salt-from-hand manoeuvre like a good Texas steak compares to mock meat made from soy. In other words, it was GOOD. Too good. Like "if I lived here, I'd be broke and an alcoholic" good. Almost as good as a good Scots whisky, in fact ;)
In addition to great salsa, and excellent margaritas, the bar also provided a real Mexican cowboy singer. And, I think Mr. PB and I actually had more fun with the Mexican cowboy singer than Ms. PB had with her author. Even though neither of us like country music. And the Mexican cowboy sang with a twang that made Willie Nelson sound like an opera singer.
|Cell phone photo of our entertainer, complete with stetson.|
He sang songs like "I'm a Believer" by the Monkees. And covered the Rolling Stones. And Hootie and the Blowfish.
The night devolved into "Name That Tune, Texas-style"!
And so, after a long travel day, followed by good food, great booze and much laughter, we won the highway fight once again, and made it safely back to the Poodlebug lair, and so to bed.
To be continued...
* 10 passenger