Saturday morning I was on my own while the Maddoxes had other commitments and Hershey and I watched the sky turn from a pale gray to very dark. I sipped coffee, spoiled Hershey, and edited Nick's paper that was going to be due on Monday. By the time I was through I realized I was sitting in almost complete dark except for the glow of my laptop. And then the skies opened in sheets of rain, thunder, and lightening. I was delighted.
We made our way in the deluge over to Salt Lick Barbeque for lunch and I discovered they had actual beef ribs on the menu. Dad and I would spend a Saturday lunch at Brown Sugars when it was behind Wolf nursery across from Almeda Mall splitting an order of 6 beef ribs and 5 million napkins. It had been a long time. And they were really good.
There was pie, albeit pecan. Marci chose the cobbler.
After lunch I took their truck back over to Georgetown for the football meeting. This is no small truck. I get behind the wheel of this thing and have an overwhelming desire to start running over things.
Nick met me with his new student ID and we walked across campus. It is a beautiful place.
Later that night Marci and I headed downtown for dinner at the Moonshine Grill which was just down the street, about four blocks, from Bull McCabe's Irish Pub where we were planning on catching our former Dobie classmate's band play. As we were heading out, Ren suggest we pack along the umbrellas. It had tapered off and the skies were back to their pale gray, but he'd checked the forecast and said it would probably be best if we took them with us.
We got to Moonshine at 7:30 and didn't get a table until after 9:00. This seemed to be the theme of the weekend: choose a wildly popular local place and manage to show up at exactly peak times. It didn't matter. Marci and I found a corner to stow the umbrellas and relax on the couch to talk. Dinner was definitely worth the wait. We split a jalapeno hanger steak that was just bathed in butter and beyond tender.
So it was getting to be 10:00 and we decided we'd better start hoofing it to Bull's. I'm assuming the name comes from the title character in the play and later the film (portrayed by Richard Harris) The Field. We'd noticed the rain beginning to fall from our table on the covered patio. But it wasn't until we stepped out onto the street that we realized what a walk we were in for. The streets were flowing like rivers as we crossed each block. The bubble umbrellas protected only from the shoulders up, so everything from the waist down was soaked within a block. We were both in flip flops. It was a wild, adventurous walk that resulted in my uncontrollable giggling with each squishy step. I'm sure everyone on Red River thought we'd been hitting the sauce already. But we made it, drenched to the bone, and found a corner table just a minute before Ralph found us. We visited for a few minutes before he had to go on. The reviews about the pub were right. This is the place for a perfectly poured Guinness. Johnny and Gerry were both behind the bar that night.
I'd read Johnny makes a mean shot, quite Irishly named "Sex with a Dublin Man" that I was thinking I'd have to order before we left. When Ralph's set was over he joined us and, having drained the pint, asked if I wanted anything. So Ralph got the honor as asking Johnny for Sex with Dublin Man instead of me. After the second band started up and we had to scream to barely understand one another, we walked outside so I could ask Ralph the all important question: where can we get good pie at this time of night?
It was finally settled that we'd meet up at the 24 hour diner not far away. And at exactly that moment, it started pouring again. POURING. Right as we were setting off to walk four blocks back to the car. With winds picking you up off your feet, had we not had the bubble umbrellas, they'd have been turned inside out and we'd have been soaked from head to toe. Once we made it back to the parking garage we got through the insanity that is 6th street, down Congress, and over to the diner.
Ralph actually loaded up his entire kit and beat us there, which tells you how fun it was to traverse ankle deep water in flip flops across slippery pavement stones.
We had a great time catching up. Ralph is exceptionally easy to talk to. Coffee and pie at 1:00 in the morning makes it that much better, although my maniacal face here looks like I probably should have skipped the 5th refill. Finally fell asleep a little before 4:00 a.m.
The next late morning we woke up to find Ren had made a donut run for us.
These babies are this yellowish orange color, hand-rolled yeast, and very tasty.
I have been informed that I missed out on the Texas-sized version. Maybe next time.
One last cuddle with Hershey
And one last picture with my boy until Thanksgiving. Sigh.
I will miss my big goof of a son, even though he insists on singing falsetto songs I can't stand. At the start of the trip, we were golden. I was driving a route I knew, my ipod was on the stereo, and Nick had his beats to drown out my stuff and listen to his. But on the second, longer day, we were in trouble. When Nick drove, his ipod was on the car stereo, so I had to use the beats, which do a great job of cancelling out all noise, but also manage to get stuck IN my ear (the headphones come out, but the little rubber noise cancelling piece gets stuck in my oddly shaped ear canal. It was a little too freaky for me.) And listening to his music makes me want to punch someone in the face. But, after lunch, with my phone already losing most of its battery life, we had to plug in the Garmin, so we found ourselves scanning the radio channels across Texas and playing the "name that tune" game, either band or song title. I think I should get 5 bonus points for Nick's calling out "The Police" on BOC's "Burning for You."
And I should get a million for these:
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