The Gulf of Mexico Called...She Wants Her Road Back

We took a drive out to Galveston and points west today. Lots of places are still in full survival mode. This is just West of Jamaica Beach:The photo doesn't really capture exactly how heart wrenching it is. Directly across the street is an entire tent city.

I imagined conversations between the Gulf of Mexico and Hurricane Ike discussing exactly how Ike would help the Gulf get her beach back from those pesky humans.

But we had this actual conversation on the road between Galveston and San Luis beach:

The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken - "Did you see that sign?"

Me - "You mean the one that said, 'Road Closed'?"

The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken - "Yes"'

Me - "It must mean some other road. There are cars coming from the opposite direction. See? Yeah. It's gotta be for some other road"

Uh huh. For some other road. Just because the sign was sitting there right by OUR road (the one that was in perfect condition just about this time last year) doesn't mean a THING. Nope.

So we come upon this first hole in the road and I'm thinking, "Oh yeah. I guess it IS our road that's closed. That's a hole in the road alright."
The holes in the road got bigger the farther we went: Until finally the road was washed out altogether and we were driving on sand: And then, finally, we had to take a detour: No joke - that detour sign points directly onto the beach. So yeah, we drove along the beach long enough to wonder if we'd be on the beach all the way to Surfside.

Luckily we flagged down an AT&T truck driving the opposite direction whose driver let us know the road was okay not too very far ahead. I'd like to say something clever about seeing an AT&T truck driving along the beach, but it was really just too surreal to even try.

Around Houston, recovery is plugging along. Houses are ever so slowly recovering their roofs.

People from out of town get lost a lot more often, but they just think the city's roads are not well marked. They don't realize right away that actually a good number of our signs blew away during Ike.

And, of course, we still have a good number of upside down silhouette people wandering around town:So that's how it's going in Ike-sville. Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

If I Had An Ice Pick

"I'd pick ice in the moooorrrning. I'd pick ice in the evening! All over this land!"

Oh wait, I do have an ice pick. And a hammer. And a table saw and all kinds of stuff to fix stuff. Well, The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken does.

But that's not the point. The point is, I promised some Halloween pictures and...Devil worship here we come!!! No wait a minute, that's not the point either...

I was totally KIDDING on the devil worship thing. But I did promise Halloween photos. So here's my boy the ninja and my gal the troll:Here's our first pumpkin. My gal carved it vomiting, of course. Because we want to make sure the new neighbors all know we're the friendly type.

The only problem was, even in this picture the poor guy was rotting in addition to vomiting:That guy rotted himself right into a splotch on the pavement, as pumpkins are wont to do in Houston weather. So then The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken went out get a new pumpkin.

Only lo and behold new pumpkin turned out to be an un-carvable gourd. And so then the only logical thing for The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken to do was to chop un-carvable-gourd-guy in the head with an axe. And stab him with an ice pick.

Because, again, having lived in our new home all of two weeks we wanted to make sure the neighbors knew we were the friendly type. And nothing says "friendly" like an ice pick.Which brings me back to that good 'ole Pete Seeger song "If I had an ice pick (or some other implement of destruction)".

Okay! So the song's about a hammer and not an ice pick.

At any rate, that and a party and some trick-or-treating and more candy than any five people need was our Halloween. Happily ever after. The end.

Be Afraid! (of pancake mix, among other things)

I got an email from my cousin that started out like this -

"This is TRUE--Check it out!"

Well, it's sort of like true. In a way, at any rate.

"http://www.snopes.com/medical/toxins/pancake.asp

Subject: Warning-Pancake/Cake Mix

Hi everyone,

A student at HBHS had pancakes this week and it almost became fatal.

His Mom (registered nurse) made him pancakes, dropped him off at school and headed to play tennis. She never takes her cell phone on the court but did this time and her son called to say he was having trouble breathing. She told him to go to the nurse immediately and proceeded to call school and alert the nurse

HELLO! Apparently THIS is the real problem with giving children cell phones. It's not the potential brain tumors - it's that they will call Mom when they should be going directly to the school nurse.

"Hi Mom! Can't breath! What should I do?"
"I dunno honey! How's science class going?"
Besides, do people really make pancakes on a weekday?

Here's more from the email:

"Check the expiration dates on packages like pancakes and cake mixes that have yeast which over time develop spores."

Apparently there's SOMETHING in these mixes killing off these teens and young adults (Snopes says so, so I imagine it's at least partially true), but it shouldn't be yeast. Or if there IS yeast in the pancakes and cake mixes, it's wasted, 'cause last I heard, neither pancakes nor cake required yeast in order to rise.

It's not enough that we have to be afraid of parking lots (poison perfume samples, etc. )and air (yes, the little air bottles you spray to clean your computer key boards can also kill you, or so say the emails). Now we have to be afraid of pancake mix too.

I mean, just for the record, I already WAS afraid of pancake mix, not to mention cake mix. But that was because of the TASTE, not the imaginary yeast. And because God only knows what all they put in there when really all you need for delicious pancakes is flour, eggs, sugar, butter, baking powder, and some milk.

Me, I was afraid of the stuff that's in there on purpose, not the stuff that grew in accidentally. But apparently pancake mix isn't as chock-full-o-preservatives as one might fear.

So anyway, now that I've done my part to raise the general anxiety level about pancake mix, I thought I'd finish up by offering this comforting thought, "At least respect for the sanctity of marriage is alive and well."See?!?! Don't you feel better now?

Twipply Skwood - Grand Reopening Sale...all posts 75% off...

because my ex-mother-in-law says it's not a sale unless it's 75% off and I'm usually with her on that one...

ANYWAY, my computer has returned, finally, from warranty hell and Twipply Skwood is back in business.

Hurricane and moving-induced problems aside, my compaq was the proud owner of a bad motherboard. As far as I can tell, microcenter installed two more bad mother boards in a row so that I haven't had a reliable computer since May. Happily ever after.

I've had requests for pictures of the new house. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of batteries as I was taking the pictures but I got a few before it pooped out.

The front of the house:


The back of the house (as seen through the living room windows):
Yes! It's a pool back there and it's so gorgeous. No, I didn't get a picture because the batteries ran out.

The Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken's study:

Did I mention it's a seventies house? Complete with wet bar:

Kitchen:

My boy's room:

The younger gal's room:

The older gal's room and a cute kitty:
Yeah, so my guess is that The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken's daughter (being almost 21 and all) wouldn't actually want a picture of her room published to the internet without her permission. It's pretty though. And big. As is our bedroom, but again, no picture.

Last but not least, it has a big ole' honkin' garage. Which is good. Because The-Guy-Who-Knows-A-Song-About-A-Chicken has a lot of tools and crap to fix stuff (swoon):So that's the new digs! Coming up soon: Halloween pictures, moving pictures, and other random pictures.