It was a long afternoon and evening of traveling, but by 2 AM we were home in Rhode Island.
The skies were blue, the planes on time, luggage arrived with us and, best of all, Banjo Man and I actually managed to leave the long-term parking lot without a crisis.
We were so proud of ourselves at 1:07 AM.
As Banjo Man said proudly, “That makes one in a row.”
No, this is not my ticket to Tijuana.
I’m participating in a Sunday afternoon Austin tradition, Chicken Shit Bingo. Dale Watson has moved his Sunday show and bingo to C-Boy’s Heart & Soul on South Congress. It used to be in north Austin at Ginny’s Longhorn Saloon. Ginny herself was at C-Boy’s to cheer on Dale.
The tickets are $2 each, one to a customer. You pick your ticket by pulling one out of a bag. The pot is $114… but Dale offers the option of picking one of his four pockets and keeping whatever money you find there. This Sunday he had Willie Nelson tickets to give away.
There’s a game every hour.
So gather ’round and cheer on the chicken!
My guys cheered me on.
But I didn’t win.
Maybe next year, Dale.
Seen at C-Boy’s Bar.
Seen at the grocery store.
On the wall at the gelato store.
I see a lot of great outfits here in Austin. Cute skirts, interesting boots, intricately embroidered Western shirts. Prom dresses for dancing, ripped denim, psychedelic leggings, and lots and lots of cleavage.
Alas, I have been sporting None Of The Above.
I am wearing Basic Grandma: khaki shorts, black t-shirts and Easy Spirit clogs.
In Austin this means I look weird and out of place. I would like to look cool and hip and trendy, I really would, but this year I just don’t have the energy. Or a waist.
But Basic Grandma is sure enjoying the music! Talent is everywhere and I am loving the songs and the sounds and the energy.
And that’s cool enough.
Wednesdays are our favorite nights in Austin.
Johnny Nicholas, blues man, wasn’t able to perform Wednesday night, but Lavelle White and her rockin’ band filled in.
The pictures from my phone aren’t very good, but I had fun trying!
She asked us to get funky with her. We didn’t know how.
The drummer was a real head case.
And then we moved back to South Congress, to the Continental Club. One of my favorite groups, Hot Club of Cowtown, played from 6 – 8:30.
Whit and Elena. I have that dress, too!
Banjo Man and I were so happy to be there. We even scored a couple of seats in the back.
Wednesday was a good day. Banjo Man luxuriated in three hours at the grocery store.
By himself.
Story Man, who had the day off, and I braved the rain and walked to the Magnolia Cafe for brunch.
And then all three of us took naps.
The perfect Wednesday.
It’s never fun to see lightning in the sky at the same time you are in the sky.
I was too nervous to take pictures even though I had a window seat.
Sometimes it’s not good to have a window seat.
We landed in Austin at midnight Tuesday, having detoured around a huge storm. Banjo Man and I even considered spending the night in Baltimore, but we learned about the altered flight plan and decided to keep heading to Texas.
The lightning prevented the ground crew from guiding the plane to the hangar, so we waited ten long minutes. I took my seatbelt off and set the metal buckle away from my body.
One can’t be too careful.
Son #2 (aka Story Man) was happy to see us and the worst of the storm hit just as we drove up in front of our little condo.
We were so happy to be together we talked until 3 AM. The lightning was on the other side of the door.
Have you guessed how much I don’t like thunderstorms????
When I answered the phone Sunday night, a little voice said, “Hi, Grandma.”
“Well, hi, John,” I said. My grandson is not a kid who likes to talk on the phone, so this was a surprise. Then he hit me with the reason for his call. With a bit of impatience, he got right to the point.
“When are you coming?”
I guess he was tired of waiting for us to return to Texas. The last time we’d had a similar discussion (“When are you coming back???”), as I rode next to him in the back of the minivan in Austin in December, my answer had been “80 days”.
“Eight days,” I informed him this time.
“Eight days,” he repeated, sounding a little glum. I guess it seemed like a long way away. Then he recovered a bit and wanted to know if we would be going to the Magnolia Cafe for blueberry pancakes (which we have done during every single visit to Austin). And could we go see some ‘live music’?
“Absolutely.” An easy promise to make, because we always take him to see ‘live music’ somewhere. He loves to study the bands, watch the drummers, listen to the way the songs come together…and then he has opinions and critiques. Much like his father. And, to be honest, his grandmother. Grandpa Banjo Man, on the other hand, pretty much enjoys everything unless it is too loud (and then watch out!).
I have been packing my suitcase ever since. Four days to go, John!
“We’re going to the zoo, zoo, zoo, How about you, you, you?”
Sammy turned his guitar so he could play it as a dobro.
Be still my heart. How cute is this?
“Let’s play it again,” he’d say. And we did.
In a month he’ll be three. Perfect age to learn music!
Banjo Man and I went to a dinner party Saturday night and didn’t come home until 12:30 AM.
This is very unusual.
Unheard of, even.
Dinner was a delicious lasagna-meatball-apple pie extravaganza, with red wine (lots of red wine) that tasted of Florence, followed by a riotous politically-incorrect card game.
It was quite a party.
So on Sunday morning, when I staggered out of bed, down the hall and to the Keurig coffeemaker, you can understand that I really needed my coffee.
Tragically, my Keurig refused to pump water into my mug. It had been acting a bit erratic this winter, but I paid no attention and took my morning coffee for granted.
Dead as a door nail (whatever that is).
Yes, we have an electric drip coffeemaker…somewhere.
Yes, we have a French press coffeemaker…somewhere.
Banjo Man rushed around trying to find one or the other, but after rummaging desperately through the freezer, I realized I had no coffee except the decaff kind. What????? So I called off the search for alternative coffee makers and considered other options.
Which led to the tea basket, where I found ONE TEA BAG with caffeine in it.
ONE FREAKIN’ TEA BAG!
It’s a decaff world, damn it.
Which led to this…
Tea is not the same as coffee.
I threw on the clothes I’d worn the night before and raced 3 miles south to Cumberland Farms, where the coffee is plentiful and only $1.00. I had my Staples rebate coupons ($15 worth) and, with a Large Extra Bold next to me in the cup holder, I drove another 12 miles to Staples.
Why Staples? Well, had the coupons. And the Office Pro has more metal parts in it than the home models, which have more plastic. I read that somewhere and it made sense. My Office Pro machines have certainly lasted years, so I wanted to stick with what I knew was a solid product.
Welcome home, sweetheart.
Deep Eddy has introduced a new flavor to its vodka line.
Peach.
You know how much I love peaches.
My sweet daughter-in-law has arranged for us to take a tour of the Deep Eddy Vodka processing plant. Our husbands will not accompany us, so if we get thirsty we can sip a little sum-thin’ without someone making comments.
We anticipate taste tests.
Lots of taste tests.
You know, to see if it really tastes peachy enough.
I am already trying to figure out how much I can take home in my suitcase.
Just another reason to love Austin…
Fourth of July
Glen the Banjo Man
LIVE at the Dump
