is there any more pie?

Yep, that’s me on the left. 

The reason I came to Austin for the week was to attend this concert and see Patty Griffin in person (I have all of her cd’s but had never seen her).  Story Man bought tickets to a benefit concert at Stubb’s (yes, where those bottles of bbq sauce on the grocery store shelves come from).

Breakthrough Austin helps children who would be “first generation” college students make it through college.  They start the program in 6th grade, have a 100% high school graduation rate and 93% go on to attend college (and 90% of them graduate).  It’s a wonderful cause.

I wanted to share some pictures with you.  This was the best I could do on my phone!

Some of the crowd in the expensive seats, with the mayor.

More Pie and Story Man wait for the show to begin.

Patty sang for almost an hour and a half.  It was hot and humid, and she’d been on tour for months.  Her voice was obviously tired, but she sang through the rough spots and hit all of the notes with incredible power.  I loved her gospel-based songs the best (my favorite cd is “Downtown Church”) and the times she stood at the microphone, without her guitar, and just sang those bluesy songs were highlights for me.  That’s what she was meant to do in this life, and I was so happy and honored to be there to see and hear her.

If you’ve ever been to music shows in Austin (or other parts of Texas, I hear) you know that the audience talks.  They talk to each other constantly while the show is on.  It is truly amazing and horrifying and exasperating and annoying.  Bad habit, Austin!!!!

When Patty was about to sing her last song (before the two-song encore) two mid-thirty-ish woman hustled over to my left to try to talk the security guy into letting them go in front of the barricade (where I was leaning) to take pictures.  They thought that if they flirted and talked enough they would get their way.

What they got was me, telling them (rather firmly) to please be quiet because this was the last song.

They were shocked.  And embarrassed.  They apologized twice and disappeared back into the crowd.  Story Man couldn’t stop laughing.

During the encore it happened again, with two different women.  Same security guard, same objective.  Same loud conversation.  So I shushed them and glared.  And they stopped–at least for a minute or so–before starting up again.  But by that time the show was over.  They never got their way.

Story Man was highly amused and couldn’t believe that people actually listened to me and shut up.

“It’s the white hair,” I said.  “It’s like I’m their mother telling them to be quiet.”   Or their about-to-retire first-grade teacher, giving them “that look” and making them behave.

Once in a while there’s an advantage to growing old.

I’ve been busy, hanging out with the Funny Grandson.  We’re spending our days together while his parents are at work.  We have made blueberry pancakes, shared bowls of strawberries, played games, watched episodes of Star Wars Clones, taken walks and played many, many rounds of “treasure hunt” at the neighborhood playground.

We are having a great time.  Even though he cheats at Candy Land.

On Sunday we’re having a Super Party.  I bought  the 1978 Superman movie (I’ve always been a big Superman fan), delivered by Amazon today.  We’re going to eat Super Snacks and–his idea– have Super Drinks (lemonade has been requested) and have a Super Good Time.

“Party Grandma” is just getting warmed up…

I went hiking.

(No one has ever heard me say that.)

On Monday Story Man and I went out for an early lunch at one of our favorite places, Kerbey Lane.  I had the pear and cheese toasted sandwich.  Story Man ate a cheeseburger.

We resisted ordering the special dessert, peanut-butter-banana pie.

We stopped at a gas station for some bottled water, then just a few blocks later were in a neighborhood.   The above sign showed the way to this “path”.

This photo was taken when we were going up the hill, heading back to the car.  But you can see that this was not exactly a bike path.

Story Man made sure I didn’t fall on my little non-hiking-experienced ass.

At the bottom was a limestone-lined creek.  They call them “pools” around here.  Beautiful!

Not many people here, but on weekends it’s crowded.  I can see why.

Yes, it was hot!  But the water was cool and we drank our water and waded around a little bit before hiking back up the hill to the road.

This part of Texas has had a wet spring, but places like this dry up in the summer if there’s no rain.

Which is why the Texas part of the family will be heading to lake in a couple of months.

My kind of morning, up at six and cooking by seven (must ease into the day with a couple of mugs of coffee).  Pot roast for Son #1 and potato-sausage soup (the Olive Garden recipe) for Son #2.

Story Man headed off to the BBQ pit at 3:45 this morning.  We’re hauling the pot roast north for a family dinner later on this afternoon and I will spend a few days with the Funny Grandson.  I am armed with the ingredients for blueberry pancakes, a new card game and the Superman movie.

Some of you asked to see the Stolen Mother’s Day card.  Here it is.

Oops.  I can’t figure out how to turn this.   But don’t you love the patriotic thigh-cut underwear?

I don’t own anything like that.

But I do have five crock pots.

Up at 3:15, on the road at 3:45 with Banjo Man behind the wheel and my travel mug filled with coffee.

Suitcase, carry-on, purse, Kindle, phone, glasses….. yep, got it all.

Arrived at the airport at 4:15 for a 5:45 AM flight only to realize the line to check in at Southwest stretched the entire width of the airport.  I hadn’t seen lines like that since the week before Christmas.

Gulp.

It took a while.  Thank goodness the security lines were moving quickly, though after I stepped out of the scanning booth a female agent took my hands and examined the insides of my wrists.  I’m still wondering why.

Made it to the gate with five minutes to spare!

Quick flight to Baltimore, with only an hour between flights.  There were some new stores:

And at the America shop, a Bernie Sanders t-shirt, among other pro-Democrat shirts.  Maryland is obviously a “blue state”.

Then it was time to board the plane for Austin.  Not a lot of people were heading to Texas at 8 AM, so I had a whole row to myself.  The plane was so cold it brought back memories of attending Sarge’s high school football games…in December.  Bring on some Texas heat!!!!

The cab ride to the condo was a bit of an adventure.  The driver didn’t know much English, especially not “left” and “right”.  But I made it.

I am actually afraid of taxis.  I don’t like placing my life in the hands of a stranger.  Airplanes are easy–I fall asleep during take off–but getting into a cab at the end of the flight is when I have to remind myself to be brave and pretend to be brave.

I have a couple of very scary taxi stories.  Of the “near death experience” kind.  New Orleans.  Washington, D.C., Rome.  Let me say right now, I WILL NEVER TAKE ANOTHER CAB TO OR FROM THE NEW ORLEANS AIRPORT.

Because I want to live.  And who doesn’t?

My first taxi driver from the Austin airport, about ten years ago, was a Willie Nelson lookalike, complete with the long braid.  And three inch fingernails!!!!!

I was mesmerized and forgot to be scared.

Banjo Man and I called for a cab to take us to our favorite pub last March and the guy showed up in a karaoke van.  Mirror balls, speakers, monitors, ancient shag carpet, black interior and flashing Christmas lights.  Right before we got to the Saxon Pub the driver turned it all on for us (he has found his karaoke cab niche), so we made quite an entrance pulling up into the small parking area in front of the bar.

I wish he’d been at the airport at 11:00 this morning.  I was so happy to be in Austin I felt like singing!!!