Hotter than a June bride in a feather bed

I could’ve just said “It’s hot,” but folks get a little tired of hearing the same phrase over and over.

God is cooking Texas. My cousin says southern Utah is for dessert.

God is cooking Texas. My cousin thinks He’s cooking southern Utah is for dessert.

The weather is a big topic in Texas. The weather channel is included in the channel lineup as if it were one of the major networks. It will come as no surprise that Texans also have colorful sayings describing the weather.

I have previously written about how “It’s raining like a cow pissin’ on a flat rock.” Then there is the title of this post, “Hotter than a June bride in a feather bed.” And another saying describing the weather in a most colorful way, one I opted not to use as a title today, “Hotter than a whore on nickle night.”

Ahem. Did I mention the sayings were colorful?

That’s your lesson for today. If you happen to be in an area where the weather is a regular topic, you now have some sayings to liven up the conversation. Or get a date. Could go either way.

I’d love to know any others you’ve heard (about the weather, not pickup lines) – I need more blog post titles. No, seriously.

A Day on Lake Wood

In homage to the heat, I present you with a lovely day on the lake. Continue reading

I went to see some old stuff

I don’t often go to see old stuff, unless of course, the weird and wacky roadside attraction I’m visiting happens to have been created a long time ago and is therefore old by default.

Not this time. This attraction’s only claim to roadside attraction fame is age. Okay, okay, some folks prefer the word “historical”. Whatever. It’s old. This particular city is rich in history, as is all of Texas. And it’s all about a cannon.

Come and Take It

Gonzales, Texas, is all about a cannon. An old cannon.

The "Come and Take It" cannon.

The “Come and Take It” cannon.

From the Gonzales,Texas, Wikipedia page: Continue reading

Workin’ harder than a funeral home fan in July

I’ve been workcamping at a nice RV park since I moved to Deerville (near Touristburg and Soberville) six weeks ago. The job was supposed to go full-time (with pay after 15 hours) starting last week, but the current camp manager isn’t leaving as planned, which means they don’t need me to work full-time. So as the title implies, I’m workin’ harder than a funeral home fan in July looking for new opportunities. While I’m looking for new opportunities, I’ve been dreaming about where I’m going next.

I’d like to go to New Mexico, slowly making my way up to Wyoming. Everyone thinks I’m crazy to want to go to Wyoming – even in the summer – but it always looks so pretty in everyone’s photos! I have a friend there now and he pretty much hates being in the middle of nowhere. I can relate: Cow-Chicken-Oil town (pop. ~7,500) was MUCH bigger than where he is (pop. ~800), and it sounds like he’s farther from civilization than Pizzaville ever was. I’m not deterred. I want to see the plains and mountains and take my usual fuzzy pictures.

Another option is to FINALLY see one of the Largest Balls of Twine and Largest Frying Pans. The nearest Largest Ball of Twine is in Kansas… as is the Largest Hair Ball. Gee, Pye ought to enjoy both of those exhibits.

Of the (six?) Largest Frying Pans, I’m most likely to hit one in either Iowa, Kentucky or Delaware. If Pye is being a brat, I may put her in one of the frying pans.

Largest Ball of Barbed Wire = Close substitute for Largest Ball of Twine.

The Largest Ball of Barbed Wire.

It’s not twine, but it is the Largest Ball of Barbed Wire, at least that I’ve seen.

While I’m dreaming and planning, I’ll share a little bit of the massive Continue reading

Why is it called Tourist Season if we can’t shoot at them?

My new location is loaded with Axis and Whitetail deer, which graze in the field behind my RV every evening. The teeny little fawns are adorable! I accidentally walked up on one the other evening and it took off like a shot, bounding away, big white tail in the air!

A fuzzy picture of a deer.

You might need glasses, or this could be a fuzzy picture of a deer. (One thing is certain, my photography skills haven’t changed. Just remember – certainty is a good thing.)

The fawn (not pictured) was a bit smaller than Pye (Pye’s not exactly one to miss a meal), but its white tail was the size of an adult deer’s tail – and it was as long as its little body! It was cute and hilarious all at the same time. It reminded me of when I was a kid and my guinea pig gave birth to babies – open-eyed, fur-covered babies with adult-sized guinea pig feet! The disproportionately large feet make the baby guinea pigs kind of funny looking.

Speaking of Pye, here’s what happened right after I parked. She looked out the window at the grackle (black birds about the size of a crow, but with a long tail and a big squawk). She’d never seen one of the large birds before.


Pye seeing a grackle for the first time.

The bird, oblivious to Pye watching from the window, hopped a bit closer the my RV. The photo below was taken seconds later right after Pye freaked out because the oblivious bird came closer. She ran away from the window. Yes, Pye is actually part chicken. Continue reading

Toilet Seat Art Museum. Need I say more?

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!

(A southern saying indicating surprise or astonishment. And that, my dear Kernutties, is your lesson for today.)

Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered there was a Toilet Seat Art Museum in San Antonio. I know!

Toilet seat art - this one has tiny colored lights!

Toilet seat art – “Time is precious. Don’t waste it.” This one has tiny colored lights!

Barney Smith, the toilet seat artist, the toilet seat museum curator, and the toilet seat tour guide, recently turned 94. He’s been creating toilet seat art for over 50 years and is still going strong. Each toilet seat has a theme: there are toilet seats for most every profession, events, and for many celebrities.

Barney is famous for his toilet seat art; Continue reading

Time to get out of Dodge.

It’s time to get out of Dodge. There’s a storm a brewin’ and I’m a goin’.

If you watch the Weather Channel at all you may have seen that central Texas is now marshland. The state is like a doughnut of land with a lake in place of the doughnut hole.

By a marvelous twist of fate I was not anywhere near Pizzaville for the worst of it. (I was actually in a galaxy far, far away. I had a great time, and that will be in a later story.) I was watching the Weather Channel while I was gone, and that was scary enough. You all know how I feel about these big wind and water storms. I’ll take a good ol’ west coast earthquake over that any day. By not being in Texas for the storm, I’m sure I’ve saved years of my life. Years that would’ve otherwise been lost to the stress and fear of being right there.

Tornadoes touched down around Pizzaville (none too close to the RV park). Many people were evacuated from homes and RV parks all around south central Texas. Cow-Chicken-Oil town is completely flooded. Dams broke, river banks overflowed, roads washed away. And so did some homes. Several people lost their lives and more are still missing.

Today I moved Continue reading

Don’t judge others too quickly. It looks bad on you.

A rant of sorts…

Have you ever been wrongly accused? I’m sure you have and I don’t have to tell you it’s emotionally crushing to be on the receiving end, to know that people who should know you better, people who claim to care about you, are so quick to think the worst of you.

Being wrongly accused has been a running theme in my life, especially for the last few months or so: A dear friend accusing me of all sorts of truly bizarre actions and motives. Another I considered a good friend silently doing the same and disappearing. My boss repeatedly accusing me of inflating my time sheet. Chickenbone accusing me of saying something mean on Facebook about my nephew.

Each and every accusation couldn’t have been more off base, and so completely unlike the person I am. And it hurt each time.

I’m not sharing this to gain sympathy or pity, but to show what the effects have been, and how it has changed me for the better.

As I pondered this running theme, Continue reading

I’m trading you two in for good kids!

“I’m trading you two in for good kids,” my dad bellowed to Chickenbone and I one summer day long ago after we’d been acting up.

Interventions: Given by the reasons I drank.


After our parents divorced, Chickenbone and I spent summers at my father’s house in Carlsbad, California. We were generally allowed to run amok during the day while he was at work, or sometimes we would spend days at our grandparents house nearby. We loved the freedom, but we also got bored after a while.

We were shocked. “Trade us in? What do you mean?”, one of us asked.

“I’m trading you two in. As soon as the catalog comes in the mail, I’m going to trade you two in for good kids.”

Bewildered, we asked,”What catalog?” Continue reading

Jackalope sighting in Texas Hill Country!

A seven-foot-tall jackalope was spotted in Wimberley, Texas!

The furry jackrabbit-antelope hybrid was seen wearing a horse saddle, and galloping through Hill Country after throwing a unknown blond rider.

I have a feeling none of you are surprised by my attempt at a shocking headline.

I can’t even surprise you all anymore, can I? *sigh*

Pioneer Town sign, Wimberley, Texas

Pioneer Town, Wimberley, Texas

Pioneer Town, Wimberley, Texas – Home of the Jackalope

Pioneer Town, a replica of a mid-1800s western town, has all the requirements of an old western movie set: a dirt main street, a blacksmith shop, a livery stable, a post office, a print shop, a general store, old houses, a steepled church, and an opera house. It also has a cowboy museum and requisite souvenir shop,… and a giant jackalope.

Because every mid-1800’s western town had a giant jackalope. Probably.

You might notice a complete lack of patrons in my photos below. Continue reading

Tales From the RV Park: A Pod of Pelicans

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me. This post is about birds, flowers, and sunsets; it doesn’t need a disclaimer.

Your “learn something new” for today: A group of pelicans is called a pod. The group can also be called a squadron. The title of this post was chosen for no reason other than “A Pod of Pelicans” sounded more catchy than “A Squadron of Pelicans”. Plus, I had recent photos and video of pelicans. So today, pelicans – and a new word. You’re welcome. 

A pod of pelicans.

A pod of pelicans.

A migrating pod of American White Pelicans landed on the lake a couple evenings ago. (This is the lake where I’m currently parked in the wee town I call Pizzaville.)

American White Pelicans on the lake.

American White Pelicans on the lake.

It’s moments like this that make up for the Texas storms. Kinda. The video below shows about two hundred pelicans landing on the lake. Continue reading