Sister went to the State Fair Sunday, and I'm looking forward to going myself, this year. These are the moments when we as a state come together and compare basketry, quilting, butter-sculpture-carving and loads of sedentary arts as we all gasp over how many yards of denim it took to yet again rope in 52-foot-tall Big Tex' fat animatronic ass.
Local German-style sausage meister Hans Mueller (Our Wurst is the Best) apparently has gone WAAAAY downhill, alas. They used to have a restaurant in Dallas, but they closed some 15 years ago, or so. Anyway, I always looked forward to getting HM's German vittles at their big tent at the State Fair, but apparently it's not so good any more. My advice is to seek out some other purveyor of meats-on-sticks to be found at such events. I heard there was spaghetti-n-meatballs-on-a-stick at the Minnesota State Fair this year - must have been an engineering feat. Thomas Edison would be so proud.
[For the best German (in my opinion) go to Bavarian Grill at Park & 75 in Plano, or if you have time to go there, the superb (WORTH THE DRIVE) Rhineland Haus in McKinney is one of the things I miss most about living in that town.]
4 year old nephew who takes drum lessons was quite captivated by the drummers in the Marine Band. Nifty. Niece got the henna tattoo-thingie on her hands, and I hope I get to see that before they fade away.
My buff 6'4" Marine brother-in-law apparently got quite a bit of attention from unexpected quarters. Sister commented to him that groups of gay men kept seeming to notice him appreciatively. She told me he laughed when she said that and he said he felt violated. I said "that is SO going in the blog." Blog fodder: is nothing sacred?
Meanwhile, I went for a splendid birthday lunch with Mom and Dad and husband. I was telling them a story about someone I met recently and saying she was a couple years older than me, about 41, and OH crap, everyone was laughing at me because now I am 41. Wow. Didn't see that coming.
All that being said, 41 doesn't feel significantly different than 21, except that I have better clothes, shoes, furniture and at least one more clue than I had back then. I'll happily say that despite all my remaining quirky collections and decorative flourishes, I no longer have a bookshelf involving cinderblocks and top ramen is not the primary staple of the house, and that will have to do.