Saturday, 24 February 2018

Rodeo parade

It's Houston rodeo season!  Yes, the biggest rodeo in the world (I haven't checked that, I'm just assuming, because this is Texas) gets underway shortly.  Amidst the riding and roping, the guinea pig costume competition takes place next week, which is the kind of thing that I - and this blog - live for.

But before all that it was time for the parade which, as you might imagine, entailed a whole lot of cowboys and cowgirls riding through the centre of Houston.  I also learned that there are many "trail riding groups" around here; people that own horses and wagons and...go ride trails.  My first question is: do I need my own horse/wagon to join?  Because I'm sure Hannah would let me get one if I do.

The parade was a nice little appetiser for the rodeo proper, and lasted for four hours, although a 5-yr-old's attention wavered after about one.  We'll make a true cowboy of him yet, but right now I'm off to polish my boots ready for some guinea pig wrangling.  That's about as tough as I get when it comes to livestock...


The first of the cowgirls come by.  Gee, I wonder what state they're from!


Can the world really be in that much trouble while we still have the Girl Scouts of America?  And it's cookie season!


First of the trail riders.  Four wheels on my wagon (but no roof).



Now these trail riders are fancy.  Can I join?


Expectant Texan faces in the crowd.


Cowboys are looking younger every year.


Mechanical wagons.


Then came the dancing horses!


Mounted cavalry from Texas A&M.  We know many people who studied there - they never mentioned horsemanship was an entry requirement, but it's Texas, so...


And some more wagons!


What says Texas as much as horses, cattle, and rodeos?  Well, I guess there is one thing.

Friday, 23 February 2018

Buzzing

We like our commodities black and sticky out here in Texas, either straight out of the ground or perhaps served with frothed milk, maybe a little sugar.  Which is why, when I saw a postcard advertising the Houston Caffeine Crawl 2018, I signed us right up.

It does exactly what it says on the tin: a wander around local cafes, a little bit of informative chat, and then a lot of coffee.  There were six routes available with one right in our own neighbourhood!  Who cares if I've already been to four of the five places on the list - support local business, and never say no to coffee.

We met up with our group at Blacksmith, where we were treated to a Guatemalan pour-over, before walking over to Southside Espresso to experience a spiced butter honey macchiato.  Then it was down to Fix (a long-time favourite) where the owner had made us cold brew with three different types of water to show us the differences.

Then over to the next cafe.  But why did I feel so jittery?  Why can't we run there?  Come on!  Run!  Run!

Inversion (the first coffee place Pete and I went to in Houston) served us affogatos: a shot of espresso over gelato, in this case a scoop of matcha tea and mascapone.  By this point, everything in the whole world was shaking, so it was good that Blond Biscotti served us biscotti (of course) and prosecco; you have to mix suppressants with your stimulants.

The whole thing was great!  A walk, February sunshine, and lots and lots and lots of coffee.  I came home, cleaned the house, balanced my cheque book, organised my clothes into colour order, repotted all our plants...and I'm looking forward to sleep.  Sometime next week.


Preparing myself with a leaf through Barista magazine.  Did you know the best barista in the world in 2017 was English?  And not me?


Antoine, from Blacksmith, talks beans.


First of the day.  Apart from the two coffees I had beforehand.


Southside Espresso.  The second smallest coffee shop in Houston.


The manager of Fix (who's also British) explains how total dissolved solids in water affect coffee taste.  Very interesting, but just give me more coffee now!


Inversions, where camera shake became an issue.


Affogato - absolutely delicious, and three minutes walk from our house, therefore very dangerous.


Lining up the biscotti.


Hannah's final tasting.


Sadly, Pete couldn't get time away from the office join us...

Saturday, 3 February 2018

A different league

The trouble with America is that it's not particularly civilised.  Though I've been trying to correct this, I am but one man.  The arena this is most acutely felt is in sports; it's impossible to find any snooker, darts, or crown green bowls around here.  It makes you wonder what they've been up to since 1776.

So imagine my surprise/delight/incredulity to discover that some people with more money and less sense than me are trying to redress the balance with the launch of a new national sport: Major League Rugby.  2018 is the inaugural season and they're going all in, with the founding of seven franchises in various cities.  Would you know it, we have our own team!?  The Houston Sabercats.

The last time I watched live rugby was when I was playing in a match for Hannah's business school, the only different between me and an actual spectator being that I was standing on the field wearing boots.  This time I paid for my ticket and eagerly took my seat on the half-way line, looking forward to some banter with my fellow spectators and the kind of atmosphere that only a rugby match can bring.

Shockingly, rugby doesn't seem to be the best attended sport around here so as I sat, alone on the fifth row, eyeing the empty seats all about, I had to make do with muttering to myself about poor handling skills and occasionally explaining what was going on to an older couple behind me.  It didn't help that it's all played in a baseball stadium, the curve of the seating cutting off one corner of the pitch.  There was an embarrassing moment when - not being able to see - a try was celebrated, with flashing videoscreen and everything, when in fact it was a knock on.

The game was pretty good, with many of the players coming from college programs and no small number of English, Irish and Scots on the field.  No Welsh, because the best prefer to stay in God's own country.  The visiting Capital Select team kept passing too deep so built up no momentum but the Sabercats were massive in defense, their kicker slotted everything, and no one was scared of putting in big hits, a legacy of American football no doubt.

In the end the 'Cats won 49-3, which was a bit of an unfair scoreline.  But then is a scoreline ever unfair?  The geniuses behind Major League Rugby are certainly doing their best, with plenty of  giveaways, promotions, a ton of merchandise, etc.  The "Saberkitten" cheerleaders came out at half-time and threw T-shirts into the small but passionate crowd, although given the foggy, cold night (and the flashbacks this gave me to playing in those conditions all the time at school) they were mercifully wrapped up in puffy jackets.

Is it going to catch on?  Well...with limited opportunities for commercials every ten seconds, and a game where players have to make decisions on the field rather than be told what to do by a coach on the sidelines, rugby isn't the most natural fit for the American sporting model.  I enjoyed myself thoroughly, mostly due to the superior feeling of being one of the few in the stadium who knew the rules.  Still, it's the land of opportunity!  And now I await the launch of Major League Cricket.


#1 fan.  Or only one fan...?


Something tells me this isn't a purpose-built rugby stadium.


Hello?  Do I smell or something?


The Sabercats and the Selects lining up for the national anthem.  I began belting out Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau before realising my mistake.


A fine set piece.


'Cats dominant at the scrum.


Hmmm.


More fireworks in the sky than on the field perhaps, but I'll be back!