Moving Day
It has been quite a first month in Texas. It has been a whirlwind of getting lost on my commute to work, discovering sweet tea, and learning new words like fixin’. Sadly, not much of my time adjusting to the south was spent knitting, but I’m getting back into the swing of thigs. So, for now…no new knitting pictures. But, here are my observations from my first month in a new land.
Puppy smiles
I tell everyone that Texas is a foreign country. Men call adult women here “girl” and “hey gal”. People are really polite (yes ma’am). And really religious – a lady at my new knitting group actually compared herself to someone in the New Testament. And then I learned that finding joy in life means finding God. Yep, I am in the bible belt. No big hair, not many cowboy boots. Lots of accents. And mosquitos. We built an extension to a fence this weekend for the chickens and I had a mosquito bite that was swollen to the size of a plum on my arm. I’ve taken more Benadryl than I probably have in my lifetime.
Sweet tea is amazing, as well as fried chicken, fried okra and fried catfish (I haven’t found anything yet that Texans won’t fry that I don’t love). I also love hush puppies with jalepanos and Shiner brew. I attended a Super Bowl party that consisted of ribs, sausage and bacon wrapped pork. Texans don’t mess around when it comes to food.
Super Bowl Grub
Traffic here, there, and everywhere
The traffic is trecherous and I’ve started listening to audio books again. For the first two weeks I got lost at least twice a day.
The many faces of my Pookah
Mickey is loving life, as always. He has a new cat door and two new friends outside, the two gregarious labs Shiner and Eve. I love being surrounded by animals. Mickey has taken becoming a Texan very seriously and sadly has started to collect guns (see right).
- Chicken Traffic Jam
And I have a new love, chickens! I never knew how fun they were to watch. The roosters are now going through their version of puberty and when they crow their voices crack on the last “cock a doodle dooooaaack”. I can’t stop giggling when I’m around them and I have to make myself not chase them all over the yard. I also found out that I am no good at chicken wrangling. One hid from me under the coop when I tried to put them in for the night. I guess I am no farmer.
