Should I? Could I?

Maybe Fabiano and I should open our own food truck. He can cook. I'll drive and market.
'

Eat, eat, eat

Probably time to get serious about joining a gym. Doing my Wii Fit, learning to run again, and possibly having my mouth wired shut!

Another food trunk lunch! That's three in a row. Bad girl! Good food!

No Borders is taking up Wednesday through Saturday residence in the Menil Parking lot less than a block from our house. Enchiladas--best in town-yesterday. Today, elote (corn on the cob) and turkey torta (sandwich). Excellent.

During the morning I had a moment of rising sap and went to the garage to get my hand gardening tools. My garage apartment neighbor Fabiano was smoking chicken. I admired. About midway through the tortas the doorbell rang. Fabiano was standing there with a plate--not only chicken quarters, but ribs and sausage--no food truck tomorrow. That's for sure.

I'll add a picture of that bounty tomorrow. It's sealed up in the fridge right now--waiting.

I love my neighborhood--it is so tasty!

H-Streats for lunch--the good life

Great lunch at H-Town Streats parked on Montrose by Inversion Coffee. Super food, wonderful company, beautiful blue sky! Beat that.

Avocado taco—ever had  deep-fried avocado slices? I recommend them. A kobe dog and a chicken-fried steak sandwich. And of course fries.

What’s the quotation I just read? "Are we slowly dying, or are we beginning to live?"

This is definitely beginning to live!

Grandson fun!

 

Dogs play, bark, wag, run, fetch. Enjoy the sun. Love being free without a leash or harsh word.

Boys are much the same. Running is fun.

Try it out someday with a grandson on the banks of beautiful Buffalo Bayou (thank you City of Houston!).

Enjoy life and the transcendent sculptures of Jaume Plensa.

Lovely afternoon.

http://www.jaumeplensa.com/

Another Sunday

Oh! Last Sunday was wonderful in Menil Park.

            For folks in the brrrr-cold part of the country, Houstonians seem like such wimps. We whine about the temperature being in the twenties. But, hey! Remember that we don’t have heavy coats; some of us don’t have gloves and Walgreen’s runs out of hats and sweatshirts in minutes. The houses are ready either. When the wind blows—well, at least in this old house—Come on in!

            So on Sunday, just like folks who’d had to dig out of snow banks and ice, folks who’d regarded thermometers showing below zero, we headed outside. I sure did.

            In one review of the Montrose neighborhood, Menil Park lying between the Menil Collection and Rothko Chapel was called the neighborhood’s front yard.  Certainly on Sunday, that is what it looked like. I brought my book for a sunny read. Families picnicked. Couples cooed. A couple of folks snoozed.  

Others made new friends and enjoyed old ones.

Most popular of all—The Red Swing. I even got a turn.

Then a new friend, maybe three, told me, “I can’t get up by myself.”

“Shall I help you?” She nodded.

“I don’t know how to swing myself.”

“Shall I push you?” She nodded.

We parted fast friends.