It’s Friday, and what day is more foolish (isn’t that the adjective that goes with folly?) than Friday? At least it’s alliterative.
Although I’m not going to write about folly today. This is going to be a Random Stuff blog.
Like: I am a graduate of Baylor University, and as such, I am hugely enjoying the NCAA tournament playoffs of both the men’s and women’s basketball teams. The men’s Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight games were in Houston which, as you may know, is just across the causeway (and the rest of Galveston County) from the island. So we mounted an expedition to venture into the Enormous City to go to the regional playoff game and see Baylor play against Duke. The Fella, the Boy and myself met up with The Older Boy, had lunch at Luby’s near the stadium, and went to the game. We enjoyed the game tremendously, right up to the very end, when the Beloved Bears couldn’t quite pull it out, and bid a fond farewell to the Older Boy who had to drive back to Dallas, after driving down just to go to the game. (He’s in school to become a coach–he’d probably drive even farther for almost any sporting event.)
We are not going to San Antonio to go see the Baylor women’s team in the Final Four of the tournament. Even if it was the men’s team in the finals, we wouldn’t go see it. If they’re in the finals next year, in Houston, we might go. But we are excited, and will watch them play. Go BEARS!!
Then, on the way home, the Fella decided he wanted some oysters, and since the Boy had told us of an excellent oyster bar he’d gone to only Friday, we desired him to take us to said bar so we could partake of fire-roasted oysters. (Not me. I’m not a big oyster fan.) (Can you tell that I’ve been reading Georgette Heyer today? Sorry. I’ll try to control myself.)
Anyway, the Boy couldn’t remember exactly how to get to Gilhooley’s. A large part of the problem was that there are a lot of Farm to Market roads on the Galveston County mainland with similar numbers–1765 and 1764, as well as 517, and 519. And the Boy couldn’t remember whether they’d gone down 517 or 519 to get to the place. We finally had to call and ask. (It’s on 517, just FYI, in San Leon.) But they did have some excellent oysters, and while I didn’t order a whole dinner-full of oysters, I did allow myself to be persuaded to eat one. (The menfolks ordered a dozen each–and received 14 and 15 oysters each, in all.) And it was the first oyster I’ve ever eaten that I actually rather enjoyed. It was extremely soft and fluffy-but I don’t really mind that texture. It tasted mostly of woodsmoke, but darned if it wasn’t pretty good. I’m not sure I can be persuaded to eat a whole dozen of the suckers, but one at a time, it was definitely edible.
In other matters–I have written Eleven pages for this week. That’s the most I’ve done in a while, so I’m happy.
I only looked at one house this past weekend, and it was so much more suitable as a duplex than anything, it really wasn’t worth posting about. Still haven’t heard from the bank, so we’re not looking hard yet. And since the government let the flood insurance program expire and haven’t got round to re-upping it yet, it may be a while.
The Girlfriend has come down for the weekend. We are hoping Dolly will got more walks.
We have a new fence, on one side of the yard. The fence in the back was already replaced, shortly after Ike. The fence on the north side is still in good shape. The fence on the south side was rotting and had to have boards screwed over it to keep the granddog from biting holes in the rot and escaping. So now we have a new fence. The fence guys came at 7:30 a.m.! It wouldn’t have been a problem, except I was bad the night before and stayed up reading till 4:30 or so, and was Very tired at 7:30. I let them move my vehicular beast from the driveway, and stayed awake long enough to eat and take meds, and walk the dog. But the fence is done.