I’m back, at least this week, with an anniversary post. It’s been a year since I left Houston. I’m still getting used to it around here.
Hello, again, Dear Readers:
It’s me again! The Dislocated Texan hasn’t gone away, she’s just been really busy. I’m still doing freelance work on Upwork, writing about different things, and trying to keep the laundry monster from overwhelming us. It has, a couple of times. I’ve received some great feedback from different clients, even though a couple of them aren’t clients anymore. That’s just the nature of the beast.
One Year Anniversary
BF and I recently realized that it’s our one-year anniversary since he “rescued” me from Houston. He first arrived on Friday, September 9th, and then I made two more trips before the “drop dead” date of September 15, when I had to be out. We went one more time, about a month later, to retrieve the rest of my paltry things from Neighbor E’s place, which he graciously stored for me. Despite the desire to, we’ve not yet been able to go back for a visit.
From the place I used to live, I’ve only heard from Neighbor E since moving away; none of the other neighbors have corresponded. Do I care? Nah–and Neighbor E doesn’t, either. We keep in touch, of course, on Facebook, by phone, and through the occasional emails and texts. He has told me a few times to be glad I don’t live there anymore since it was already an unfriendly atmosphere before I moved. There are “lots of new people” there, but they’re primarily renters, I suppose, since owners figured out they could make a bundle doing it. Neighbor E owns his condo, and has lived there for 30 years–he’s not able to just pick up and move as I did. That’s why I would never buy a unit that needed a good $25K in repairs, although nobody could have predicted how it all went down.
And Then She Was Gone
My former residence, a one-bedroom condo I rented for 12 years, was unoccupied for nearly a year after I moved out of it. E told me that someone had just moved into it in mid-August. After completely renovating the place, the management company couldn’t rent it or sell it for love or money, but I guess they finally found a sucker. . .I mean, tenant, to take it. I wonder if the kitchen sink drain has backed up on this person yet. (I know, not nice.)
Thanks to Facebook, I can keep in touch with everyone else, even folks I haven’t seen in a while. The GER isn’t on Facebook, but we keep up on email and the occasional call. (He doesn’t text, either.) Heard from Debbie the Avon Lady just last week when “Hurricane Nate” blew through; we didn’t even notice it. I’ve spoken to LK, the GER, Miss Alice, and others frequently since leaving. I still refer to LK as “my district leader in Houston,” even though I’m not in her district anymore (and neither is Miss Alice.) Still, I have a new district leader in Mandeville, which is nearly an hour’s drive from here, and I go to Buddhist activities whenever I can. BF has gone with me to the district meeting once and met everyone. NM took a few pictures of us, one of which is now our “anniversary picture.”
A Little Spirituality
OK, so not the usual thing from a food blog, but I’m going to shift the focus with a little bit of Buddhist scripture. You’ll understand why shortly:
The Buddha promised in the Lotus Sutra that, for women, the sutra will serve as a lantern in the darkness, as a ship when they cross the sea, and a protector when they travel through dangerous places.
One of the main reasons I became a Buddhist on my birthday in 1986 was because women were not excluded or secondary. Throughout the Lotus Sutra, it states that women are equally able to become enlightened, in their present form–it’s not reserved for just men, and it’s not only something that’s possible in a future state. (Next week is my 31st anniversary of starting my Buddhist practice.)
A big reason I’m a Buddhism fan is protection. It’s not to say that bad things can’t happen to Buddhists, because they do. But sometimes those bad things can be good things in disguise, and you find out later that you were protected. Or that something that you suffered could have been a lot worse. I could tell you about the time I was returning to Houston after visiting New Orleans and took a turn off the I-10 to get a coffee, returned to I-10, and discovered a multiple-car accident. That could have been ME. A $2 cup of coffee saved me a lot of time, hassle, and money, not to mention the potential for injury, a long way from home. LK also knows a parable that explains it well, but I don’t know it all myself.
Next week is my 31st Buddhist anniversary. Not giving it up.
Texas Isn’t Texas Anymore
As I’ve said many times, the inbound migration is changing the face of the entire state of Texas. People flocked INTO Texas from everywhere. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that eventually the glass is overfilled and spilling out. In January, MD Anderson Cancer Center announced layoffs of over 1,000 people. Both Neighbor E and I had applied there, and I went on multiple interviews there. I really, REALLY wanted to get hired at MD Anderson–we both did. I’ve known many people who have gone there for cancer treatment and rave about MDA. But after the way I was treated as an applicant, I’d keep my cancer before I went there for treatment.
Then there’s NRG, who, like other big companies, laid off longtime workers to hire cheaper people. How nice they are. I hated having them as my electric service provider, especially when I had to talk to a customer service person in Mexico. How do I know? Well, the heavy accent was a dead giveaway, but of course, when asked, they told me.
I was protected from that layoff, as well as others
My brother, who has been in and out of Houston many times, told me that “Houston is full of unemployed people.” So, while I didn’t see it at the time, I was protected.
The Unwanted Visitor
Living on the Gulf Coast, you get used to star-struck meteorologists with acting experience making a big deal out of a little wind and rain. One of the Baton Rouge guys has a theatrical routine: he takes his suit jacket off and rolls up his sleeves before his actual segment when he’s talking to you about what he’s going to talk about in the weather segment. Then he puts his jacket on for his “turn.” He takes his jacket off again, exposing the rolled-up sleeves, for another “teaser,” and then for the closing segment with the news wonks and the sports guy, he’s got his jacket back on. (I prefer to depend on the Wunderground app.)
In a lot of cases, they over-dramatize things, scaring the bejeezus out of people. In September of 2005, as Hurricane Rita roared into the Gulf of Mexico, people all over Houston went bonkers. I haven’t forgotten being in traffic with Catmandu and Kismet trying to get to Austin from Clear Lake in the middle of the night, windows rolled down to avoid using the car’s AC. I was on the phone with my brother online trying to find my way through back roads to get to Austin. Hurricane Rita was coming, and it was going to wipe out Houston! It was just weeks after Katrina, and everyone panicked.
The Infamous Hell Ride
I found a Walmart open in Waller somewhere on the way, and some petrol, too. But we didn’t need to evacuate. Austin’s normally a 3-hour trip, but it took 11 hours to get there. I was exhausted. Other people had the same experience, and people died during that nightmare. They like to err on the side of caution, they’ll tell you, but going on TV and all but saying, “We’re All Gonna DIE!!!” makes people ignore you when it’s the real thing.
Unfortunately, sometimes they’re wrong.
First, there was Ike
After the Rita evacuation disaster, I had no plans to evacuate when Ike showed up. When the fire department started driving around telling people to leave, and all my neighbors were gone, I figured it was time to go. I called The E Man and told him I was coming. It was the last time I went over the Sabine River until last year. I was at their place for nine days, staying in touch at coffee shops, libraries, and other places, with my Boeing laptop. There was some serious damage, and I knew people who had water in their houses. But that was nothing compared to this year.
That was also when Catmandu hid inside their sofa. When we extracted him, he went bonkers and we had to isolate him in a closet for a few days until it was time to head home. I never considered evacuation after that!
But what if I hadn’t left? What if I’d stayed?
Then Came Harvey
The eight-year anniversary of Ike saw a new arrival. Harvey.
Nobody saw this guy coming until he took aim squarely at Texas. Rockport. Port Lavaca. Port Aransas. Matagorda. Port O’Connor. High Island. San Luis Pass. And finally, Houston. The 3rd largest county and the 4th largest city in the United States, drowned by a Category 5 hurricane. Louisiana got some of it too, in an area called Cameron in the southwest sector. After Harvey rampaged through Beaumont, Port Arthur, and a handful of other places in Texas. He had a grudge, folks. You can read a recap of it here, on Wikipedia.
The most incredible picture I saw on social media was this one:
That’s not Galveston Bay, The Sabine River, or any other body of water. That’s the I-10 freeway, between Houston and Beaumont, under about eight feet of water. This is what that stretch of land normally looks like.
BF and I made four trips on that very stretch of the I-10 between Houston and Beaumont this time last year. I can’t tell you how many times in 18 years I made that drive by myself, leaving Houston for a trip. We had no idea.
Everything Flooded. Everything.
Neighbor E had a little water in his unit, but it was from a drain pipe. Many of the “new people” didn’t know to move their cars up to the easements, and their cars were flooded. LK had a tiny bit of water in her garage, but her new school flooded, and she was required to go and clean up her new classroom.
The GER had about an eighth of an inch of water in the Funk House/Junk House, which is on a slight hill. But the GER’s other neighbors had 2″ to 15″ of water, and he was helping them clean up. Aunt Ruth was willing away the water, which came up to her place three times but not inside. Aunt Kathy had to clean a flooded storage unit all by herself. Others I know and keep up with on FB had four feet of water in their houses for several days.
I was 300 miles away and didn’t have to deal with anything like that. Miss Alice was in a place that should have flooded, near Hobby Airport, but didn’t. That’s protection. Her new school was destroyed, and the Houston Independent School District (HISD) relocated them to a new school.
Neighbor E’s truck
He left it in his usual parking space, but the water didn’t get INTO the truck, just close to it:
I can’t believe people buy SmartCars in Houston and actually drive them on the freeway, but they do. Of course, in a Chevy Silverado, or a Ford F-150, you can’t see these little insects over your hood. But there are occasions where it’s not a bad thing to have:
It can also come in handy here, although I have to wonder if the infamous homeowner’s association would ticket them for it:
“Ain’t Skeered?” You ain’t been around long enough, Honcho.
Crain’s Houston puts the damage at about $50 million dollars and will take Houston years to clean up and get back to normal. Even places that normally don’t flood, are flooded. The Woodlands. Conroe. Katy. Friendswood. Galveston. You name it, they probably flooded. Although, I’m told those pictures of Southwest Airlines planes underwater at Hobby were Photoshopped.
The Complete Change Of Scenery
I used to dream about that cabin in the woods, living out of the city, and having lots of trees around. Well, I’ve got it–just not in Texas. I’ve posted pictures before of the area I call Cow Road. The whole area is like that, except the roads are better. We no longer have to take Cow Road to get to town, but when I go pay the water bill, I make it a point to go that way. It’s a beautiful ride, bumping and grinding along, with trees covering the entire airspace above the road. I drive up and down small rural highways that are surrounded by native-growth trees, older houses, and beat-up trailers next to “showcase” homes, going into town to shop at….Walmart, or on my way out somewhere.
Fellow redhead writer LM has also had a recent change of life, involving not only a new man but horsies! She’s moved her business to a farm somewhere in California (she was living in Sherman Oaks) and gets to live the ranch life. She’s safe and happy, so that’s the most important thing. I met her at Bootcamp in 2011 and kept up ever since. (Obviously, she’s better than me at the business side of copywriting.) I’m not going to Bootcamp this year but will be here at La Casa watching it live-streamed starting Wednesday evening. So glad I joined AWAI’s Circle of Success when I did, in 2011. Ah, yes, another anniversary, this one in my copywriting life.
Another anniversary thing. Amazingly, I managed to get some Hatch chiles this year–both Whole Foods and Rouse’s had some, and I grabbed a bunch. I also feasted on guac and chips at the Whole Foods in Metairie–you don’t get offered that in Cracker Barrel. (Not that there’s anything wrong with Cracker Barrel, OK?)
Naturally, I roasted them as I did many times in Houston, filling the house with their delicious scent.
I should have done it when *he* was at work, because all I heard was, “Oh, my GOD–what’s that horrible SMELL? It stinks in here! For God’s sake, woman, open a WINDOW!!” This is from a person who owns two stinky dogs, has a cat litter box in his house, and is frequently coated in sweat and some kind of automotive substance.
And, it gets worse.
A couple of weeks ago, a very nice lady who is good friends with AK posted a recipe for Nutella Brownies. The recipe is simple, four eggs and a cup of that delicious Nutella. No kidding.
Carefully warm one cup of Nutella in the microwave until it’s a little bit liquid. Or, more liquid-er, I guess. Use the remainder as you like (i.e., dig it out with the little spatula and enjoy it yourself, because there isn’t much left.) Meantime, whip the heck out of the eggs.
Line your baking pan with parchment paper, and grease it, as well as a little grease on the bottom of the paper, and on the inside of the pan, primarily to hold it in place. I think I used coconut oil.
Once the eggs are really, really whipped:
Admittedly, because of my favorite chocolate cake from one of Suzanne Somers’ books, I added a pinch of baking soda to the eggs before I beat them. Carefully, at this point, you start ladling in the Nutella. WARNING: if your Nutella is hot, it will cook the eggs and you will not have brownies. Make sure it’s just kind of warmed, and a bit more fluid before you start this process. A cup or so at a time, on a slower speed, until it’s all incorporated.
Bake them in a 350F oven for 25 to 30 minutes. I baked them in a rectangular pan so I could use the smaller oven because I still have no toaster oven.
I don’t buy Nutella often, for two reasons: one, it’s sugar, and two, I can’t stop.
So, What Happened?
Happy Anniversary, Honey!
I thought they were delicious–rich, eggy, but not too sweet. It’s gluten-free, but you can add a half cup of flour to make them more cake-like. Pretty good, with a nice texture. BF turned his nose up at them but did make the attempt to try them. I don’t remember his comment, but it included, “well, at least I tried them.”
And after that, I don’t cook or bake anything for him that’s from the “post-Amy menu.” Everything he eats is now “pre-Amy,” unless it’s for me. There was some roast chicken and pork roast this weekend, but anything beyond that, I just cook for myself.
We’re going to see if Walmart has “Thanksgiving In A Box” this year. I’m having whatever I want, and he can make the things he likes. Is anyone coming over? Well, he knows how to make instant mashed potatoes and mac and cheese from a box.
Maybe. But definitely not to the extent I did Thanksgiving last year. There will be CrockPots involved, that’s for sure.
Otherwise. . . .
Well, we’re still here, with two hounds and a rude little cat. She doesn’t much care for me unless it’s time to feed her furry butt. She’s all about BF. Think of her like the female who goes after your man right in front of you, and that’s pretty much our cat. They don’t make them like they used to.
We did manage a little anniversary dinner at Cracker Barrel, but they don’t have any more Big Little Fudge, darnit. Just because we’re not married doesn’t mean we can’t have an anniversary, right? We have no plans to, so that’s why I call him my “partner.” Before you say, “the term ‘partner’ is just for gay couples,” no, it isn’t, and I’ve seen it both ways. But it sure confuses the heck out of people here!
Five Years of Blogging
Yes, it’s true, I’m coming up on five years of blogging. WordPress should be reminding me of that anniversary real soon.
I’m still not making a LOT of money, just enough to help out and get some things I need. One thing I really, REALLY needed was new glasses to replace the old ones. When I say old, I mean FIVE YEARS OLD. No kidding. I had one pair that I wore every day and was horribly scratched, and a second pair–thank heavens–that I bought and kept only for job interviews and dress occasions. They were the last pairs I bought through the insurance I had with Boeing, and BF was starting to complain that maybe I couldn’t see well enough to drive. I reminded him that my glasses were five years old.
Back in August, I had a few dollars and got my first eye exam since April or May of 2012. At the local Walmart, no less. I got a written copy of my prescription and ordered a pair of glasses from Zenni Optical. They arrived about two weeks later in the mail, and I put them right on. I had a headache for a little while because my others were so old, and I needed a better prescription really badly. But I’m OK now. I can SEE!
Took this picture just a couple of weeks ago in New Orleans. I wanted something different. So? Whaddaya think?
You’ll notice my hair is getting longer, too. I need to have about a two-inch trim, which I’ll get soon. It’s somewhat thinner than before, but it’s definitely a lot longer than it’s been in years. Like, since about 2004, I think. But I’m also back taking vitamins and still using the organic plant-based hair color, so maybe it will grow in thicker. Fingers crossed.
I use this pic on Facebook as my new profile shot. Someone commented on my “flawless complexion” and asked, “what’s your secret?” My response: “an app.”
I do plan to get at least a couple more pairs of glasses in different styles, and if I can make enough money, another pair like these to have a backup. Wish I’d started doing this years ago–I always bought from Target, but not anymore.
Until next time. . . .
Many thanks for sticking with me. I will try to finish some posts up soon and get them published.