We rented a van so we could fit the whole crew in one vehicle and set out for Johnson City, Texas (named for LBJ's family) on Saturday night. If you have in mind that people just dress up to look like cowboys or would never, ever think of killing a deer or pheasant or rabbit for sport, you should avoid this town (and probably the rest of this post.)
We went because I saw a spot on CNN that the Christmas lights there are amazing, and they really are. (CNN said, "Paris, France has nothing on Johnson City, Texas at Christmas time.") The Electric Company was lit up beautifully. We were most impressed with one family, though, who lives in a double-wide trailer off 281 North, who apparently single-handedly lit up an entire front yard - must have been 2-3 acres with all kinds of displays and music. The work (and expense) involved was staggering. Quite impressive.
Now for the cowboys and hunters. We ate at the Hill Country Cupboard, which was rated by Texas Monthly magazine as one of the top 40 diners in the state. I can't tell you how long it's been since I ate a breaded pork chop, but this one was not just breaded. It was "chicken fried." For food that's really bad for you, this was good, and mostly worth it. I was hoping they'd have slaw. I love how many different tastes and textures you can get out of cabbage and vinegar. No slaw. Actually, they didn't even have anything that was crunchy. Iceberg lettuce was the closest they got. For dessert, they have fabulous pies and cobblers. Mark got blackberry cobbler with ice cream on top. My bite was excellent. Several others tried a bite, too. All rave reviews.
The place was full. Never saw so much camouflage being worn in one place. These were not people who were wearing trendy camo cargo pants. These people were for real. Lots of cowboy hats, too. Ranchers, no doubt.
I love the personality of Texas. Soon after I moved here from Indiana, I realized that any state where you can get pasta in the shape of the state, really does have an attitude. Can't remember ever seeing crackers shaped like the state of Indiana when I lived there. I'm smart enough to refrain from saying I'm a Texan. That wouldn't be appropriate. Those who have lived here forever are quite proud of their heritage. On the flipside, I don't remember hearing anyone in Indiana brag that they were a 5th generation Hoosier. I think you'd question their intelligence if they did. You'd say, "Now what does that REALLY mean?" Even though I can't claim Texas as my own, I'm a proud transplant.
Now Maddie - that's a different story. She moved here when she was 6 months old. I think she might just be able say she's a Texan after a few years.
Back to stitching.
Love, Mimi
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