The Continueds
Let me tell you a little something about Texas, or, at least the rules that determine what qualifies as a salad and what doesn't in Texas:
In Texas, you may suspend any fruit or vegetable in Jell-O, and it automatically becomes a salad, to be served with the main course, not after, like the cakes and pies and cookies and pies are. If the Jell-O is green, it qualifies as a vegetable.
Yesterday evening my aunt threw a party for close friends and family to celebrate my cousin's graduating from Texas A&M University. WHOOP! (It's an Aggie thing.) Served along with the salads and vegetables and rolls and iced tea sweetened with Splenda, as the main course, was Turducken. Ok, I'll run that one down for you. Turducken is a "Creole" dish, (either Creole or the Texans don't want to take responsibility for Turducken, so we pawn it off on the French speaking population of Louisiana), which is created by taking a chicken and stuffing it, inserting it into a duck and filling the empty space of the duck with stuffing, and then stuffing the duck and chicken (which by now would be called a "ducken") into a turkey, then saturated with more stuffing. Tur being the turkey portion of Turducken, duc being the duck portion of it, and ken constituting for the ckicken part of Turducken. Turducken.
Previously that day my father and I met Jerry and Jonathan Pennington out on our old farm (and for those of you who were clueless to my origin up until now, I am not only from Tomball Texas, but I was raised ona farm.) My dad brought his rifle, and Mr. Pennington brought two shotguns. The Penningtons are the kind of family that, though you may have spent 6 years apart from them, the next time you see them to go visit, it is like a not a day has passed and no large and uncomfortably long in duration hugs are expected. So, back to the shooting. First we started off by shooting some skeets, and out of about 30 that I personally shot at, I hit 12. That, of course is terrible, but you may consider me a prodigy due to the fact that that was my first time handling a shotgun. Then we shot targets from 260 yards away with my father's rifle and I hit the space outside of the target, the outermost ring of the target, and the second innermost ring of the target, earning 13 points in the three shots that I shot. I hit the target all three times. From 260 yards, this makes me a qualifiable sniper. Needless to say, I have now developed not only a petichii hemorrhage on my shoulder, but also a fairly large bruise, a picture of which I plan to post for you at a later date.
I found out I was allergic to cats.
Woke up this morning and arrived shortly after at my grandparent's house in the downtown suburbs of Houston. This is an area largely influenced by both Mexicans and Koreans, constituting of either an EZ or Korean characters preceding anything else on every store sign, billboard, or store front that you find yourself looking at. Also there are several Washaterias down on Gessner. It is ugly. Humans have left a trail of commerce and concrete behind them where community and trees used to thrive. But it is at the same time beautiful. And it is my home. I shared an amazing dinner (in Texas lingo that means lunch, and supper means dinner) at a Korean restaurant down on Long Point named Seoul Garden. My grandmother, being an active participant of Tai Chi, and being of International and Olympic calibur, was intoduced to it by Grandmaster. The miso remains the best I've tried so far.
I then came home and everyone left for one thing or another and I was left with my grandparent's pet parrot, Gus. He's in an African Grey, the smartest of all parrots, and talks more than Kelly Sanderson. He really is a sweetie.
Tomorrow I go to the mall (ahh, yes, Macy's at last) to finish up the Christmas shopping.
If you haven't yet, call me so we can talk about what's been going on.
-loves-
In Texas, you may suspend any fruit or vegetable in Jell-O, and it automatically becomes a salad, to be served with the main course, not after, like the cakes and pies and cookies and pies are. If the Jell-O is green, it qualifies as a vegetable.
Yesterday evening my aunt threw a party for close friends and family to celebrate my cousin's graduating from Texas A&M University. WHOOP! (It's an Aggie thing.) Served along with the salads and vegetables and rolls and iced tea sweetened with Splenda, as the main course, was Turducken. Ok, I'll run that one down for you. Turducken is a "Creole" dish, (either Creole or the Texans don't want to take responsibility for Turducken, so we pawn it off on the French speaking population of Louisiana), which is created by taking a chicken and stuffing it, inserting it into a duck and filling the empty space of the duck with stuffing, and then stuffing the duck and chicken (which by now would be called a "ducken") into a turkey, then saturated with more stuffing. Tur being the turkey portion of Turducken, duc being the duck portion of it, and ken constituting for the ckicken part of Turducken. Turducken.
Previously that day my father and I met Jerry and Jonathan Pennington out on our old farm (and for those of you who were clueless to my origin up until now, I am not only from Tomball Texas, but I was raised ona farm.) My dad brought his rifle, and Mr. Pennington brought two shotguns. The Penningtons are the kind of family that, though you may have spent 6 years apart from them, the next time you see them to go visit, it is like a not a day has passed and no large and uncomfortably long in duration hugs are expected. So, back to the shooting. First we started off by shooting some skeets, and out of about 30 that I personally shot at, I hit 12. That, of course is terrible, but you may consider me a prodigy due to the fact that that was my first time handling a shotgun. Then we shot targets from 260 yards away with my father's rifle and I hit the space outside of the target, the outermost ring of the target, and the second innermost ring of the target, earning 13 points in the three shots that I shot. I hit the target all three times. From 260 yards, this makes me a qualifiable sniper. Needless to say, I have now developed not only a petichii hemorrhage on my shoulder, but also a fairly large bruise, a picture of which I plan to post for you at a later date.
I found out I was allergic to cats.
Woke up this morning and arrived shortly after at my grandparent's house in the downtown suburbs of Houston. This is an area largely influenced by both Mexicans and Koreans, constituting of either an EZ or Korean characters preceding anything else on every store sign, billboard, or store front that you find yourself looking at. Also there are several Washaterias down on Gessner. It is ugly. Humans have left a trail of commerce and concrete behind them where community and trees used to thrive. But it is at the same time beautiful. And it is my home. I shared an amazing dinner (in Texas lingo that means lunch, and supper means dinner) at a Korean restaurant down on Long Point named Seoul Garden. My grandmother, being an active participant of Tai Chi, and being of International and Olympic calibur, was intoduced to it by Grandmaster. The miso remains the best I've tried so far.
I then came home and everyone left for one thing or another and I was left with my grandparent's pet parrot, Gus. He's in an African Grey, the smartest of all parrots, and talks more than Kelly Sanderson. He really is a sweetie.
Tomorrow I go to the mall (ahh, yes, Macy's at last) to finish up the Christmas shopping.
If you haven't yet, call me so we can talk about what's been going on.
-loves-