'Dillas

When I was at the College of Charleston, I took a beginning theater course to satisfy some humanities requirements or some such thing. We paired off towards the end and had to do a short scene that we picked out of a pile the professor brought. One group did a scene of two strangers who met on a cross-country bus trip. I'm guessing it was set somewhere in the southwest because every once in a while, both of them would pop up a little in their seats. Why? Because they were running over 'dillas in the road. 'Dilla, of course, means armadillo. 

But I'm sure you knew that.

Me, I didn't really know anything about armadillos though maybe I'd seen one on TV or in a zoo. It was also the age before smart phones (Gasp! Such an age exists?!) so it's not like I could look it up on my handy dandy phone. You shouldn't be on your phone in class anyways and I always want to snatch it out of people's hands and throw it across the room but I couldn't get away with that unless I was famous. Hollywood! Here I am!

But, I digress. The reason I bring this up is because of a incident on Monday morning. I was walking my dog, as I do every morning (except Saturdays when I'm too lazy and I just open the back door), and we're heading toward the back of my complex when she starts pulling on the leash harder than usual. I vaguely wonder why but this early in the morning it takes all my brain power to hold onto the leash and walk at the same time. I make the left turn and I see a gray lump in the bushes. I feel a (very) mild rush of adrenaline because I think bunnies are totally cute. My sister and I each had one when we were younger and they each died a tragic death. We, the dog and I, get a little closer and I discover that this is the weirdest looking bunny I've ever seen. A little closer still and I see no cute long ears, no poufy tail, just what appears to be and overgrown rat. Then I recognize the shape from the roadkill I frequently see around here: an armadillo. The adrenaline rush becomes less mild because I have no idea what these things can do and I hear they cause leprosy. Plus, possums and raccoons can be very aggressive and an armadillo seems similar to possums and raccoons at 6:15 a.m. 

I pull the dog away and text a real Texan when I get back to the house to get an armadillo update. They aren't aggressive but you shouldn't touch them because they can carry leprosy (due in part to a very low body temperature). I file this info away in my brain and carry on. Tuesday morning, we go for another sleepy walk. The armadillo is back and isn't hiding in the bushes. He's (they all look like boys to me) digging up the grass in the back of the complex. We get real close and I'm sad I don't have a camera or a phone because this is the closest I've ever been to an armadillo! Then Hope sniffs him (probably not a good idea, what with the leprosy potential and all) and he scurries off. Well, kind of waddled off, like a pregnant lady.

This morning I was prepared. I brought my phone in case I saw Dillon (that's right, I named him) again. Alas, he was not there but I could see where he'd been but the ruts in the grass and mulch. Maybe tomorrow!

Texas Road Signs

For the past few weekends, I've been traveling to various Texan locations: Shiner, Blackwell, Denton. In the next month, I'll hit Houston (again) and Flower Mound, TX. And you know what I've been noticing? Texas has some crazy road signs. They really do.

For instance, as I'm driving to Shiner, we go through some town somewhere that has some hills. In order to warn the hill-illiterate Texans driving through the town, they had a handy dandy sign they posted on the side of the road in the typical warning-sign-yellow and black. And this truck was going almost straight up the hill. It was comical. I was laughing so hard tears came to my eyes. It would have been dangerous if the hill has actually been that steep but it wasn't! It was just a hill, same as any other hill. The sign kind of looked like this:

 Except going up. Is it even possible to drive up a road with that steep of a grade? I doubt it. Regardless, I didn't have to. But I did laugh about it.

This weekend, on the drive between College Station and Denton, I saw at least three awesome road signs. First: Sadberry Lane. Seriously? SADberry? Who wants to live there? I felt bad for the road with it's depressing name!

Of course, I perked right up when I saw the cross street a ways down the road: Pneumatic Tool Rd. Really? Why this name? Was some woman trying to get a point across to some man? Or is there a tool shop down there? I couldn't tell. 

Something else I was confused about: Hog Island Cemetery. An island? Doubt it. Hogs? Probably. But who is this cemetery for? People or hogs? I had the same question about the Buffalo Cemetery. Is it for buffalo or the citizens of Buffalo, the town? I need more information.

Texas Summer Heat

It's hot here. I don't know why that surprises people but apparently it does. It's southeast Texas in July. It gets hot. But every day I still here people complain about it. Filling the hot air with their hot air. There's nothing you can do about it, y'all, except move to Alaska. Of course, even there it's getting warmer than usual, like every other place. 

Here we've had our hottest month on record (June) and the driest weather on record from October to now. It feels nice when I walk the dog in the morning and by the time I leave for work, it's warm enough to make you sweat. If you're outside a lot then, which I'm usually not. However, I frequently have to walk (partway) across campus for presentations. I leave my cool office around 9:20 a.m. and get a little glow on while pulling the dolly. When I come back at 11, I'm in full on sweat. Needless to say, summers are not my most attractive season.

When I lived in hot, humid Charleston, you learned how to walk. First of all, it's old so a lot of the sidewalks are all crazy and uneven so you have to pick up your feet. Second, during the day, you find the shade. Depending on the time of day, one side of the street would have more traffic than the other. Third, you picked your own special pace. You found the speed of walking that worked for you: fast enough to create a breeze but slow enough to keep the sweat from pouring off of you. I still do the same thing here but when pulling a dolly, you sweat and there's no getting around it. 

And you'd think some of these nice Aggie gentlemen would offer to help. 

Fightin' Texas Aggie Ring

Yesterday, I was judged for not having a ring on my finger.

We've all done it. Don't even try to tell me you haven't because I won't believe you. We've checked the ring finger. Maybe it's a cute guy (or a not so cute guy followed with a "who married HIM?!"), maybe it's a girl ("check out that rock!" but it's happened. You've tried to surreptitiously check to see if someone's ring finger has been claimed.

I'm sure it's happened to me before. I mean, I'm not totally heinous and creepy. But here, you don't just check the left hand, you check the right hand too. And sometimes you check that hand first. Why? For the Fightin' Texas Aggie Ring. I've posted about the FTA Ring before, so you know I don't have one. Last night, I got the hand check though and it was not subtle.

I was chatting with someone at a social event and she happened to ask me when I graduated from A&M. Not uncommon. That's how we ladies politely attempt to figure out someone's age. I, however, have not graduated from A&M. Ever. And when I said that, she said "Really?!" and proceeded to check out my ring finger. On my right hand, of course.

Nope. Not lying. There's no ring there. And you won't find a tan line from where a ring used to be. I just don't have a ring or a degree from Texas A&M. Although, I do have a few others.

This was the first time my right ring finger has felt empty. I've had ring envy for a while and, as some people know, I'm working my way towards getting one of those rings. But my hand needed to be weighed down by that telltale symbol of Aggie-ness last night and it wasn't. Sad, sad day. She did continue to talk to me though and she's very nice. I think sometimes people here can't understand why I'm here if I didn't graduate from here. Or have family here. Or have married into the Aggie Family. I guess it is kind of strange. Some people move to New York just to move to New York. Or Chicago or DC or other places. Here, you come to be an Aggie.

Bodies of Water

I was driving (ok, riding/sleeping) through parts of Texas this holiday weekend and I noticed something: signs point out creeks and rivers. Now, this is clearly not uncommon. Those signs are every where. Then why am I pointing it out?

Because there's no water in them.


I see a sign for the Cow Shack Creek, I eagerly look over and see... nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. There's a rut in the field with some rocks in it that's currently dry as a bone. It does look as though, conceivably, water could flow through there. But it also looks as though it hasn't for quite some time. "Huh," I think. "I wonder why..." But obviously I don't ask to stop and inspect this lack of water because, let's be honest, it's a) hot as heck and b) a really long drive that I don't want to add any more delays to. I resolve to inspect the other creeks (and not just their funny names). 


I can't remember all the names, although lots of them include the word "branch," making me think it's part of another flowing body of water that might actually be flowing, but by and large, they were dry. Now, Texas is currently experiencing a drought so that will account for some of it but really, that's an awful lot of signs for what is essentially a rocky ditch in a field.