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Houston Hot

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This is one happy Mother Hen today!

We are just coming to the end of a proper heat wave here in England, with temperatures soaring up into the 80s. Most of the nation is, naturally, complaining about the heat. They can’t help it, really. It is the national pastime. However, for heat-loving me, I feel quite at home in this humid bubble currently settled over the British Isles. The temperature is just about approaching my favourite temperature: 

Houston Hot!

cherry-limeade

Ah, the infamous cherry limeade! How I miss thee!

A couple of years back when Hubby and I had temporarily relocated back to the states to top up our American accents (which were fading fast), we ended up living for four years in archetypical Houston suburbia, complete with community pool and golf course. However, we were but a short drive across Lake Houston into the real world of rural Texas. These small towns were most notable for their lack of notable features, unless you count telephone poles and storefront churches, which were present in abundance. However, each town was well equipped with its very own antiques shop and Sonic, and therefore well worth a visit.

We loved living in Texas. I may be a Yankee by birth and grew up in the Midwest, but when I think of visiting home in America, a large part of my heart tends to gravitate toward Houston, where we still have many, many friends that I consider family.

la villa meal

Thank you, La Villa, for the good times, cheap margaritas, impeccable service and my 28 pound muffin top.

I loved the sultry humidity and relentless Texas heat. When Hubby and I first arrived from England and got set up in our new digs, we spent the better part of 2 months sitting on the back patio in full sun warming our bones. Yes, my friends. After 15 years in England, it took every bit that long to get warm again! We loved the greenery, the lakes and tall pine trees. I loved Mexican food to the tune of a two stone weight gain over four years, which, while I admit is pretty bad, I have a hard time regretting. I actually enjoyed every bite.

More than all else I loved about Texas, I loved the people. Now, don’t look so shocked. I know Texas has something of a Wild West reputation. It is more its own country than an actual state. Texans are hardheaded and independent minded, to be sure. They are, in fact, larger than life.

Sure, most of them are undoubtedly packing heat and there is probably a dead animal trussed up in the back of their mud-spattered pickup truck on any given day. But so long as you don’t:

  • a.) cut them off in traffic (which I would never – EVER – recommend doing),
  • b.) badmouth either the Texans, the Cowboys, or the Longhorns,
  • c.) make any pro-Oklahoma statements whatsoever,
  • d.) serve them any vegetable devoid of salt, butter and/or cheese,
  • e.) offer them any sort of diet soft drink, or
  • f.) dare suggest that Kansas City has better barbeque,texans view texas

Texans are about the friendliest people you are ever likely to meet in your life!

Yes. All this warm weather has put me in mind of the madly wonderful friends I have left behind in the Lone Star State… Next time you order a margarita, think of me, literally chilling out on this side of the pond. And hold the salt.

Mother Hen

Photo credits:

  • Houston Skyline: Shutterstock
  • Cherry Limeade: treataday.com
  • La Villa meal: lavilla1960.com
  • Texas meme: vitamin-ha.com

© motherhendiaries 2014 all rights reserved

23 replies »

  1. Two opposing ends of the weather spectrum, Texas and England. I’ve been to both and love England for the variety and history. Loved Texas but fell in love with Colorado where I learnt that real Cowboys don’t carry guns but hoof picks.

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  2. You should have contacted me. I have a kit for expatriates called “Catch up on your American”. It has the latest words and phrases we Americans have been taking for granted. For instance, we don’t say twerk anymore. We say mylie cyrus, as “she mylie cyrussed all over the dance floor.” Instead of the phrase “bad grammar”, we are saying “yankovic” as in “Don’t yankovic your semi-colons.” So be the first one on your block to pay the $10,000 for our kit. Just call us at 1-800-wei-rdal. If you one of the first one hundred people who call, we will give you a bonus gift. It’s a George Bush toenail clipping. Bound to bring out your inner Dick Cheney.

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