Snapshots: Roll on Highway--Part 4

We were only at our rental house for two full days before we had to start the drive home*, so we left Saturday morning. We didn't try to get going really early, both because we knew we would be stopping somewhere along the way for the night, and because A. wanted to see the wooden boat museum in Port Aransas.

We weren't sure anyone would be there on New Year's Eve, but when we pulled in, there were two of the retired guys that volunteer there and they were more than happy to show us around.

Calling it a museum is a bit of a stretch. What it really is is an old boatworks that became a "museum" when the old guy who ran it died. They kept all his old tools and things that were in his shops--I guess that's the museum part--but they actually still build wooden boats there. It's even still called Farley Boat Works. So I would say it's more a way to carry on the knowledge of the craft than just a look at the old tradition. Which is much cooler, in my opinion.

A. and the boys were fascinated. There were several old boats for them to look at.

One of the display boats inside the shop.

A historic Gulf scow, used to ferry cargo from the big ships in the Gulf to the shore before they dug out the deeper bay route.

Poppy was not so enthused. She was mad that we weren't at the beach again, so I spent most of the time we were there dealing with her. That included letting her take some pictures for me.

All of which included her finger.

After A. had his fill of inspecting boats, we got on the road. We had considered stopping at one of the beaches that were on our way to the land bridge we took to get off the island, but there was such heavy fog, we didn't.

Very unhappy beach girl in that van, for sure.

We did stop again in San Antonio this day, as A. was determined to see one of the missions. There are several open to the public. The biggest ones were PACKED, though, because of the holiday crowds, so we went to San Francisco de Espada, which is one of the smaller ones.

Lots of impressive stone work.

A. was very pleased. A day with both wooden boats and giant complexes of stone buildings is his kind of day.

Also a really impressive old mesquite tree that was perfect for climbing.

Something my monkey children lost no time in doing.

I do not have a photo of the actual church, because there were so many people going in and out, and I didn't want to take a picture with some random person in it. That'd be weird.

We didn't stay too long, as we had many miles to cover, so back on the road we went. And drove and drove. And drove.

We stopped for the night in Brady, Texas. I don't have any photos of Brady, because it was entirely unremarkable. Very nice motel, though.

The next day was another full day in the car. The only photo I took this day was when we got off the main road somewhere around Brownfield, Texas, to make sandwiches and let the children and dogs run in the wheat fields.

Which are millions of acres of red sand. Literally sand. If we had tried to pull off on the side of the road, we would have gotten stuck. Perfect for running, though.

And then we drove some more. At the end, due to endless bickering and a slightly hysterical child who was SO DONE with the car, I had to get all the way in the back seat of the van to entertain the troops for the last few hours. 

We did finally make it home, on New Year's Day, 2023. And there was much rejoicing. 

The end.

* Yes, we were traveling longer than we were actually at the sea. We should have stayed another day, but it felt like a long enough trip as it was. Next time.

Snapshots: Roll on Highway---Part 3

On our second full day in Port Aransas, we decided that some of the children needed some decompression time in the morning. And to be honest, so did I. 

So while I stayed at our rental house with Calvin and Poppy, A. took Cubby and Jack to a place they could walk to from our rental house to fish.

The three of us at home took the dogs to the marsh across the street to run around and play; went to the grocery store and selected four different pints of Blue Bell ice cream to try; and even managed to work the big TV in the living room to watch "Dinosaur Train."

Cubby, meanwhile, caught a stingray.

He was using the whiting from the charter boat and hoping to catch something big. The stingray wasn't a really big one, but it was certainly bigger than a catfish, and a lot harder to reel in. So much surface area to drag in the water, I guess.

Anyway, Cubby pulled it up, and A. said all he could think was, "That's the fish that killed Steve Irwin!"

He was so unnerved by handling a stingray that it didn't occur to him to keep it, which is a shame, because rays are good to eat, and when's the next time we'll have that opportunity? He told me he felt like he had a rattlesnake on the line, and all he could think to do was get it off the line and back into the water without getting hurt.

He did, and it swam away. And now A. says he will regret not keeping it for the rest of his life. Guess he'll just have to catch another one sometime.

We do not have the traditional picture of the proud fisherman holding up his catch, for obvious reasons, but A. did get this one as the stingray was being pulled up.

Those eyes on the top of its head are glaring at A., I can tell.

After the excitement of the stingray, the fishermen came home and we prepared for our trip to the beach. The sun had finally come out, after mostly overcast skies thus far, so we figured this was our best shot for ocean playing.

This was also a fishing trip, of course, as were all excursions while we were there. The younger two children wore their swimsuits, although I was not confident the water would really be warm enough for swimming. The older two said they were just going to fish and didn't want their swimsuits.

(Do you think they didn't really get in the water? All you parents out there know how this is going to end.)

We went to the beach right next to one of the jetties and once again split up. A. took the older two boys to the jetty to fish, while I set up camp on the beach with the younger two children.

Those two children were delirious with excitement and raced directly to the water.

OCEAN!

The water was indeed cold, but not frigid. The sun warmed the air enough that the children could play along the edges of the water, where they didn't get completely soaked and thus were warm enough. This was perfect, because I didn't have to worry about them going in too deep. I just sat there on the sand and watched them run in and out of the water.

I did roll up my jeans and get my feet wet, but that was about the extent of my interest in water play.

Even A. waded in.

About as far as I did.

Those children were absolutely thrilled with the waves chasing them and the sand to play in.

Queen of the world.

We were there for about three hours, during which time I just sat there on the beach, drinking seltzer and singing in my head, as I usually am, a slightly adapted song.

I got my toes in the water, toes in the sand

Not a worry in the world, a cold seltzer in my hand.

Life is good today. Life is good today.

Because I am a rookie beach-goer--and because getting our crew out of the house is always intensely chaotic--I completely forgot to bring towels. Whoops.

Luckily, there was enough junk in our van that I could find some substitutes. Poppy's little pink blanket made a good place to sit in the sand.

Seltzer and barbecue kettle chips on the beach can't be beat.

There were a couple of sweatshirts too that worked for wrapping the chilled swimmers when they emerged from the water for snacks.

The fishermen of the family, meanwhile, caught a few catfish that A. decided to keep. He wanted to see if they taste any different than freshwater catfish.

After they were done fishing, they joined us on the beach for a half hour or so. And did those boys who insisted they didn't need their swim trunks stay out of the water?

I'm sure you all saw this coming, didn't you?

They rolled up their jeans and stayed on the edge for approximately five minutes before abandoning all restraint and running right in up to their waists to battle the waves. 

Thoroughly soaked in their Wrangler jeans and shirts. Naturally.

At this point, the sun was starting to set, so we gathered up our soaking and shivering brood and headed back to the rental house for hot showers and dinner.

A. prepared the catfish as part of our dinner. They taste just like freshwater catfish, in case you were wondering. Then we had an ice cream smorgasbord, in which all of the children got to have a scoop of every one of the four flavors of Blue Bell ice cream we had chosen. And then! They got to have seconds!

Joy abounded.

And that was our second (and final) full day at the sea. Tune in tomorrow for Part 4, in which we have one last adventure in Port Aransas and then journey home.

Snapshots: Roll on Highway--Part 2

Picking back up in Port Aransas, which A. had chosen specifically because we could get on a party boat to fish in the bay. Because we had never done this before, he chose the largest, most well-known charter company. They offered several options for fishing excursions, from three-hour bay trips to six- or twelve-hour Gulf trips. Even a three-day tuna fishing expedition in which you sleep in bunks on the boat and fish night and day.

We didn't go with that last one.

Neither A. nor I were confident in the sea-worthiness of our stomachs, so he chose the three-hour* bay trip to minimize the motion of the boat. Also, this company had large boats, which meant they were somewhat steadier.

The boat passed their inspection.

All the fishing tackle and bait was included with the boat, along with two deckhands who would pretty much do everything for you if you wanted them to.

Off we went across the bay, zipping along and bouncing on the waves . . . and into the Gulf.

Heading out to sea.

We were not expecting to go out past the jetties and into the Gulf of Mexico, but that's what we did. The crew dropped anchor just outside the bay and the fishing began. 

Fish on!

This is also when I got sick.

I didn't throw up or anything, but I was definitely unhappy. I was the only one who felt ill, thankfully, and we only stayed in that particular spot for about twenty-five minutes before moving to a different spot closer into the bay. 

I recovered myself, although I still had no interest in fishing. Fishing is not an activity I care about at any time, so while I had a pole, it was mostly to increase the family's chances of catching anything. There was, in fact, a catfish on my pole at one point, which Calvin pulled in for me, but that was all "I" caught.

While we were fishing, we were passed by one of the giant oil tankers that pass through this port regularly. It's quite an experience to be passed by a ship this size.

Also cool to see the dolphins jumping only about twenty feet in front of the prow of this behemoth.

Everyone caught something (except A., but he didn't care). All they caught, however, were catfish and whiting. We were told that the cold snap the week before drove the fish out of the bay and into the warmer, shallower waters in the surrounding canals or whatever, although I don't think this is the best time of year for fishing there in any year.

The crew took the catfish off the line, explaining that they have a toxin on their skin that really burns if the fins cut you. They threw the catfish back in. The whiting they kept for bait. I guess they use it to catch sharks and so forth.

However, A. has at least tried to eat every kind of fish he has ever caught (with mixed results--don't bother with suckers because they're mushy and gross). So he asked the crew as we were disembarking if he could have some of the whiting. He told them he was going to be fishing all the next day and would like them for bait. He did use the smaller ones for fishing bait, but the bigger ones he fried for dinner that night.

They were excellent. So now you know, in the event you're ever presented with whiting to eat.

All of the boys loved the boat and wished we had gone on the longer trip. All of the girls, however, were quite happy to be done after three hours. And everyone was more than ready for lunch.

One of the deckhands had recommended a restaurant right next to the wharf as a superior place for a fish fry, and he was definitely right. There were huge plates of fried fish, shrimp, and oysters, and it was all fried perfectly. Everyone stuffed themselves and left happy.

Poppy really wanted to go see this giant shark tunnel thing outside a local shop. So after lunch and a rest, we went.

It was constructed like a tunnel that was entered through the mouth, and it went all the way back into the tail. It really was much cooler than I was expecting it to be.

This smaller shark was right next to the door of the same shop. Jack hammed it up for his photos with Jaws.

And that was the first full day at the sea. Tune in tomorrow for Part 3, in which the children have their first physical encounter with waves.

* Did I sing "A three-hour tourrrr" in my head? But of course.

Snapshots: Roll on Highway*--Part 1

A day late, yes, but definitely not a dollar--or any photos--short. 

We didn't get home until about 4 p.m. yesterday, and man, I was WRECKED. I definitely did not have any energy for writing or posting photos. But now, after a solid night's sleep in my own bed (YAY) and my first cup of proper coffee since leaving home, I feel capable of diving in to the snapshots from our trip.

Ready? Let's go!

The drive from our house to the sea is over 12 hours, and we can't realistically do that in one day with our crew, so we didn't even try. We planned on stopping for the night somewhere, and that meant we didn't need to leave punishingly early.

I was shooting for a 7 a.m. departure, so I told everyone we were leaving at 6:30 a.m. Sure enough, with everyone working towards leaving at 6:30, we were rolling away from the house at 7:05 a.m. 

We brought the dogs with us. Adventure Van is big enough that we can have a full-size dog crate set up in the back for Odin, to separate him from his brother so there's no growling and jockeying for space in the main part of the van.

Odin's van den.

Jasper just goes under the seats in the back, where the children sit.

Someone's gotta guard the toys.

And then, we drove. I drove across the entirety of Texas many years ago when I was helping to move my grandmother's things from Louisiana to Arizona, but I don't remember much of it. Perhaps because the way I drove then wasn't memorable. Or perhaps because I wasn't visually assaulted then by hundreds upon hundreds of wind turbines and their accompanying hideous infrastructure.

I really, really hate those giant wind turbines that have gone up in the past decade or so. They're just such an eyesore, and their constant spinning has a bad effect on me. Texas is COVERED with them. Particularly around Lubbock, apparently. I was not a fan.

Anyway.

The children were interested to see those oil derricks that look like giant birds continuously pecking the ground. I didn't take a photo of one, but if you google oil derrick, you'll see them.

I was less interested to note that we could actually smell the oil as we were driving through those areas. When we got off the main road for lunch, we drove by one of the derricks that had a sign warning of poisonous gas. Super.

Thankfully, the smell--and presumably the gas--wasn't bad where we actually were, which was the rodeo grounds in Post, Texas.

Why did we stop at rodeo grounds for lunch? Because we're never actually looking for food when we stop on the road. 

Ham and cheese sandwich assembly in the back of the van.

Instead, we're looking for a place both our children and our dogs can run. Parks are good, as long as there aren't too many people or other dogs. Empty rodeo grounds in small towns are perfect.

So much space to run in. So many fences to climb. Be free, small, feral things!

The good times have to end eventually, though, and all animals and people must be once again corralled in the van. 

More driving. More wind turbines. But also the beginnings of the Texas hill country, with its lovely oaks and turbine-free views.

We made it to Eden, Texas, this night and called it quits there at a really terrible motel. 

Fun fact! Eden is the geographical center of Texas.

Eden has embraced its name and there is, indeed, a garden there. It was actually quite cute, with lots of brightly painted animals made of tires and metal and so forth.

Poppy's favorite was, of course, the unicorn.

The hill country ends at San Antonio, which we had to drive through. That was possibly the low point of the second day. A. wanted to stop at one of the many historic missions there, but we got lost in the absolute chaos of the San Antonio freeway system and had a terrible time getting back on track. 

While we were enmeshed in the insanity of San Antonio, we saw a Bass Pro Shops in one of the shopping areas by the freeway and stopped to get our salt water fishing licenses. These were required for A. and me on the charter boat we were taking the next day.

This was the younger children's first experience with the wonder that is Bass Pro Shops--essentially Disneyland with a dead animal theme--and they were THRILLED.

Giant staircases!

AND ELEVATORS!

We did manage to find our way to the mission area and stopped for lunch at the Espada Acequia. This is a stone aqueduct that was built by the Franciscan missionaries around 1740 and has been continuously running there since then. They used the water to irrigate their gardens. I don't know where it goes now, but it is a very nice little water feature in the middle of the city.

Our destination was only a few hours past San Antonio, so we pushed on until at last, we reached the sea.

I woke up the next morning and brought my coffee out onto the front porch to enjoy the fog and palm trees.

And to avoid the children sleeping on pull-out beds in the living room.

Tune in for Part 2, in which we venture into the Gulf and we see if any of us are prone to seasickness.

* Somewhere around Lubbock, the song "Roll On" by Alabama came on the radio. I hadn't heard that song in years, but the refrain was so appropriate I had it on continual loop in my head (and often out loud as I sang it) for the rest of the trip. 

Roll on highway, roll on along

Roll on, Daddy, till you get back home.

Roll on family, roll on crew

Roll on, Mama, like I asked you to do.

And roll on, 18 wheeler, roll on.

Friday Food: Gone Fishin'

This post coming to you from the Gulf coast of Texas. Surprise! Our kids had never seen the ocean, and at least some of them were excited about saltwater fishing. So we decided to make the long (looong) drive to the nearest ocean to us, which is the Gulf of Mexico. That is why I am typing this from our rental house in Port Aransas, Texas. That is also why I don't have any photos. They don't seem to be loading.

Don't worry. We'll be home Sunday and I can post all the photos then. Until then, photo-less food!

Friday 

Short version: Stir-fry, rice

Long version: I had taken out a couple of quart bags of already-cooked and shredded beef rib meat. I used one to make tamale filling, and one to make the stir-fry. The stir-fry also used up quite a lot of the vegetables I brought home from the school salad bar, including mushrooms, broccoli, spinach, and carrots.

I got all the kids into the kitchen with me to actually make the tamales this day too, so I wouldn't have to do it on Christmas Day.

Saturday

Short version: Baked ham, scalloped potatoes, green salad with ranch dressing, chocolate roulade

Long version: This was a ham I bought before Thanksgiving when I was getting our turkey. Cubby had requested I cook it for Christmas, but the rest of the family was unwilling to give up their tamales. So we had the ham on Christmas Eve instead. 

It was a spiral ham, which I've never cooked before. Not as wet, but easier to dry out while cooking, as well. I baked it covered, and then poured over a mixture of mustard, maple syrup, apple cider vinegar, and water for the last half hour or so. I didn't have pineapple juice to make the Best Ham in the World that my family raves over, but it was still good.

Scalloped potatoes are definitely a special occasion side dish for me to make, because I really dislike slicing all those potatoes with the mandolin part of my grater. Since I was doing it, though, I made a full 13"x9" Pyrex of them (potatoes, salt, pepper, Parmesan, milk, and cream). And then I forgot to put a pan under the casserole, resulting in dripping milk/cream all over the bottom of my oven and SO MUCH SMOKE.

Rookie mistake.

Good thing it was warm enough to open the windows. Not warm, you understand, but warm enough. At least not as frigid as the previous two days.

I always make a chocolate roulade for Christmas or Christmas Eve, using the recipe in my old Jacques and Julia Cooking at Home cookbook. The recipe is online, too. Apparently, Martha Stewart has discovered it. She also posted a video of Jacques and Julia making the roulade, which is fun. 

This was the show that A. and I used to watch in our basement apartment in Albany, NY. That's where I got the cookbook, too, from the bargain bin of a Barnes and Noble.

One of these years I'll think ahead enough to get good chocolate to make it, but this year, as all previous years, I've just used store-brand chocolate chips, and it's still delicious.

Sunday

Short version: Tamales, eggnog, molasses cookies

Long version: Tamales are a New Mexico tradition for Christmas, and a delicious tradition they are. I make mine with beef and beef tallow instead of lard and pork, because I find they re-heat better that way. Also, I have a lot of beef on hand.

I use this recipe for eggnog, which neatly takes care of all the egg yolks leftover from the roulade.

And this recipe for the cookies. Of course.

Monday

Short version: Carnitas, leftover scalloped potatoes, sauteed spinach

Long versio: A. brought home some giant packages of pork shoulder that I separated into pieces and froze. This was one of the pieces, cooked slowly in the oven in my enameled Dutch oven. When it was tender, I just pulled it into pieces and fried it in its own rendered tallow to crisp it up.

That in combination with the potatoes made for a pretty heavy meal.

Tuesday

Short version: Grudging chili, tortillas and cheese

Long version: We left about 7 a.m. this morning for Texas and didn't stop until around 5 p.m. in Eden, Texas. There was a microwave in our hotel room, but I didn't plan very well for dinner. I had grabbed a couple of containers of frozen chili and put them in the cooler, but our cooler is so good that they were still mostly frozen solid. And the containers weren't really microwavable. So I ran hot water on the outside of one container until I could gouge out bits and put them in a jar to microwave.

I managed to get enough for everyone to eat this way with their microwaved corn tortillas and cheese, but it was a battle.

Wednesday

Short version: Sausage sampler, crackers and swiss cheese, raw tomatoes and broccoli

Long version: I took Cubby and Poppy to the grocery store when we arrived at our rental house in Port Aransas, Texas, and Cubby requested sausage. This small store actually had a good sausage selection, so we ended up getting four kinds, including the two we ate this night: smoked beef sausage, and boudin. Boudin is a Cajun sausage of mostly rice and pork. I guess we were close enough to Louisiana for it to be in the store. 

It was quite spicy, but very tasty, and Cubby declared it his new favorite sausage.

Thursday

Short version: Fresh whiting, yay!, and leftover french fries

Long version: We went fishing in the morning on a charter boat that took us out just beyond the bay and into the gulf. This isn't a great time of year for fishing, and the deckhands said last week's cold snap drove the fish away, so all we (I use this term loosely, as I do not actually fish) caught were catfish and whiting. The catfish were thrown back. The whiting were kept by the boat's crew for bait. 

But when we were disembarking, A. asked if he could have some for our own bait, as he was planning on fishing all day the next day. They obligingly gave him about a dozen, the largest of which were maybe 12 inches long. A. cut up the smaller ones for bait, but the three largest ones he cooked. He had some vague memory of hearing whitefish is used to make fish sticks and so forth, and is actually a good eating fish.

They were, indeed, delicious. Although I can only say that secondhand, because I didn't eat anything. Neither did Poppy or Calvin. After our fishing trip in the morning, we went to the seafood restaurant next to the wharf for lunch, and there all the boys absolutely stuffed themselves with enormous platters of various fried sea things. They ate every bit except the french fries. I brought those back to the rental with us and re-heated them in a pan on the stove in some butter. 

The three fish and the leftover fries were enough for the three who ate. 

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

A Very Special Tuesday

Because it's my birthday, yay! This is me 38 years ago.

Attired in the height of '80s fashion.

We're doing something very special today, but you'll probably have to wait until Friday for any photos or anything.

A birthday cliffhanger. Dramatic.

Have a nice day, and feel free to eat some cake in my honor.

Snapshots: The Christmas One, Of Course

A little late, because, well, Christmas. But lots of opportunities for photos!

Our priest celebrates Christmas Mass at five different churches that span a distance of over one hundred miles. So the services are split between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The Mass at our church is at 7 p.m. on Christmas Eve.

Church!

It's hard for modern lights to not look very glare-y in photos. This one through the church window is slighly less harsh.

This is the Christmas tree Poppy and I decorated on Wednesday after work/school.

The children first tried to get up at 4 a.m. to open presents despite clear instructions to wait until 5:30 a.m.("You said we could get up at 3:30!""No, son, I assure you I DID NOT.") After being sent back to bed, the revelry commenced at 5:30 a.m.

Christmas early-morning stocking dump.

A blurry shot of the after-opening scene.

One of the gifts opened was a remote-control unicorn, specifically requested by Poppy. I was very hesitant to include this on the list for the grandparents, because I hate stuff like this (electronics+weird girly stuff), but I did and my parents got it for Poppy. It is, indeed, as weird and creepy as I feared.

And has to be plugged into the USB port on my bedside table clock. (In the mouth? Why?)

But she absolutely loves the thing*, so I don't regret requesting it on her behalf.

Things took a turn for the distinctly more labor-intensive in the afternoon when A. and I had to do some manual labor to get my washing machine working. After many days of The Arctic Blast, the drain pipe for the washing machine was not draining. It drains out of pipe that runs under our (trailer) house and into the back pasture. 

We figured it was frozen. So we cut it where it comes out from under the house and flushed it with hose water when it got warm enough for the hoses to run. This required me to hack out a drainage trench with an adze.

It worked! Yay!

This enabled me to do three loads of laundry that were desperately needed.

My gift to myself this Christmas was clean clothes. Because I am all about self-care.

As soon as the boys saw the water flowing into the trench as the water drained out of the washing machine, they were very enthused about expanding the drainage trench.

Inadvertant Christmas entertainment.

Our Christmas feast featured tamales, as is traditional in New Mexico. 

Also eggnog and molasses cookies, which are not traditional here, but who cares? They taste good.

We actually made the tamales two days ago and kept them in the refrigerator.

The picture looks like so many happy little elves helping in the kitchen. In reality, there was a lot of jockeying for space at the counter and complaining about sticky masa or breaking corn-husk ties. So festive.

We had a very nice sunset to end the day.

It never looks as good in a photo, though.

When I went out to take that photo, I heard the dogs barking from a distance and saw them in the neighbor's pasture, barking furiously at a completely unimpressed bull.

They were entirely unrepentant when they came home in response to my call.

There you have it! Our Christmas, snapshotted.

* Its name, in case you were wondering, is Fantastic Great Brilliant. Because of course, according to Poppy, it is all those things.