Quick trip to Houston

Just so you won't be in suspense, Nelly Elly was cured of broodiness by two days in the cage. She seems fine now.
Some months ago, we received a wedding invitation from Terry’s niece, Robyn and her betrothed, Matt to their wedding on April 17. Why not? My semester would be winding down. Terry’s season would just be gearing up. I went to Robyn and Matt’s website (oh, the modern age) to book the room at the Marriot in Sugar Land, TX and the flight on Spirit Airlines, the least expensive of the links that Robyn provided.

The closer the date loomed, the more I wondered what we had been thinking. I took care of some of my weekend chores in advance, such as making a batch of yogurt. Terry was also having misgivings. In the planning stages, he figured that all of his trees would have been delivered by this time. In reality, he was still waiting for most of his shipments.

“I know it will be fun when we get there,” I told him, “and if we never go anywhere, we will never go anywhere.”

I was up at 4:00 Friday morning to take a quick shower, pack the last minute things, roust Terry out of bed, start the dishwasher, and get in the car at 5:00. We got to Jane’s right on time at 6:00 and were to the airport a bit before 7:00.

Our flight left and landed on time. Our deboarding was delayed by 40 minutes because of a malfunctioning walkway. As the website said, it did cost $90 to take a taxi from the airport to the hotel. I was not concerned. I had no desire to rent a car and drive through an unfamiliar big city. Seek professional help.

We got checked into the Marriot and met two of Terry’s sisters coming out of the elevator as we were going in. They told us that several of us were at the pool.

Sugar Land Marriot

The hotel hand soap came overpackaged in a pyramid box, although the shape of the soap was fairly usual.

We dropped our bags, hung up our wedding clothes, and went to the pool to say hello. All of Terry’s surviving sisters had made it to the event—Carol, Elaine, Kathy, Judy, Gloria, Rosie (mother of the bride), Abby, Iris, and Laura. The wedding was at 7:30 with dinner to follow. Plans were afoot to have a late lunch at 2:30. Ten of us met in the lobby and walked across the street to the Lasagna House. We got in just under the 3:00 deadline for lunch.

At 5:00, the skies opened up and rain POURED down. We hardly ever get rain like that in Illinois. Wind, lightning, the whole deal. It continued to rain torrentially for the next several hours. We rode with Carol and Jim to the wedding, leaving at 5:45 and sitting in a rush hour/bad weather traffic jam most of the way through Houston.

We got to the venue, Briscoe Manor, at 6:50. Walking around to see the beautiful grounds was out of the question. Jim let us off under the awning and parked the truck. Even with an umbrella, he was soaked by the time he got in.

The service was delayed a few minutes to wait for those who had been delayed by the storm. The minister asked everyone to silence their cell phones. Nevertheless, two people had weather alerts go off in the middle of the ceremony because of flash flood warnings.

The service was very nice, lasting about 30 minutes. The family hung back for pictures, which the photographer dealt with quickly and efficiently. We were then excused to walk across the courtyard to the reception area. Champagne, wine, and beer were abundant. The food was served buffet style, and was outstanding. I had a proud moment when Terry read the menu and knew right away what haricots verts were.

We stayed until midnight, talking, laughing, dancing. Shouting more than talking, really, as the music was cranked up. It was a good time, but we were all hoarse the next day.

I didn’t take my camera. It seemed like something that I was entirely too likely to misplace under the circumstances.

In spite of not getting to bed until 1:30, I was awake for good at 7:16 the following morning. I ran to the Starbucks next door for lattes and bananas. Terry ate his leftover anchovy pizza. I had the remainder of my penne olio, giving myself garlic breath for the rest of the day. We ate our food cold, since we had no microwave, and with our fingers for lack of forks. Not so much of an issue for the pizza.

We took a walk through the area around the hotel, mostly high-end boutiques and lots and lots of restaurants. The plaza by City Hall was being set up for an Earth Day fair of green businesses. There was a sculpture of Stephen F. Austin pulling a horse out of a river. The history of Texas was written in a stone river that meandered from the fountain across the plaza. I read it up until Austin (“The Father of Texas”) died of pneumonia at the age of 43. There was no mention of the horse rescue story.

The Sugar Land City Hall with sculpture of Stephen F. Austin and two horses

Flood remnant

This sign near a restaurant was made by potted plants in a framework

Palm tree landscaping

We went to Rosie and Dick’s house to talk and hang out by the pool. Robyn, Matt, and Matt’s family came around at 2:00 for the Opening of the Gifts. And then we hung out some more. Two large birds caught my attention as they flew into a neighbor’s palm tree. They looked like ducks, or maybe geese. They flew in a most unusual way with their bodies nearly vertical and their webbed feet dangling below them. They had a high-pitched clear staccato call very unlike a quack. Not ordinary wood ducks, certainly. Rosie’s son, Jonathon, got his binoculars from his car. The striking feature of the duck we could see was a bright orange bill. It also had a gray head, black underside, white stripe on the wing, and rusty breast. Jonathon got out a Golden Guide, and we identified it as a black bellied whistling duck. I tried to get a picture with my silly little camera, but the images were so bad, I won’t bother posting them. I didn’t take my good camera and telephoto lens. I was going to a wedding, for heaven’s sake. How could I have known I was going to see a black bellied whistling duck? It isn’t every day I see a duck in a palm tree, that's for sure.

Most of the crowd left at 4:00 to drive to Dick and Rosie’s beach house. The rest of us went out to dinner. Abby’s son Andrew dropped us off at the hotel. We went to bed straightaway at 8:30, since we had to be ready to go at 5:00 the next morning.

We were in the lobby at 4:40 to check out. The cab was 10 minutes early and, traffic being light, we got to the airport at 5:30. Our flight to Minneapolis was supposed to leave at 8:05, which would allow us time for coffee and breakfast. Before I was fully aware of what was going on, we had seats on the 6:05 flight directly to Chicago. No time for anything! We went through security and hauled tail to the gate, arriving just as the attendants were shutting the door. The flight was pretty empty, and I assumed that they needed more room on the later flight.

Since Jane was just getting up when we landed at O’Hare at 8:30, we had time for breakfast before she picked us up. We were home by 11:30, when we otherwise would have just been taking off from the Minneapolis airport. It was good to be home, and good to be home 3 hours early.