Wednesday 8:30 am.

Damn. Early morning blogging again. I guess old habits die hard.

Back from Corpus Christi yesterday. That place is great, not at all what I think about when I think Texas. Tropical paradise, great beaches, lovely places to go birding. As an aside, I think I know now why people start liking to observe birds later in life (a diplomatic way of saying when we get old); it's because you slow down and are willing to sit somewhere doing nothing for hours at a time waiting for birds to show themselves. Fascinating animals they are...

The beach at the Padre Island National Seashore is incredible. 80 some miles long. Of course, we forgot our bathing suits and towels so we had to use our birthday suits. Which is quite feasible on that beach seeing the length of it. No one wants to be right next to the other person on the beach so we had a huge stretch all to ourselves.

Funny enough, when we got to the Ranger post to pay our entry fee, there were signs saying "Take out more than you bring in, garbage bags available". So we ask about it, the ranger says, "How many d'y'all want?" We figure one will do it. Nope. How very wrong. Because just above the high tide line there is all sorts of garbage. Primarily plastic. Apparently it is washed in from all over the world via the Gulf of Mexico. The mind boggles at how much trash we dump just anywhere. Most of it recyclable trash. We could've filled 20 bags easy had we wandered around a bit. As it is, we filled our one bag in 15 minutes flat. Somehow it seems like we didn't even make a dent. It's quite a wake up call to see, in such a beautiful otherwise untouched area just what we're doing to the planet.

Not to make it sound like the beach is one big garbage heap. It isn't. Below the tideline it's absolutely pristine. The water is warm, the waves are wonderful...

And on the way back, as per Paula's instructions, we stopped at Snoopy's. The best fish and chips.

Actually, so far in Texas, nothing has been at all like my preconceived notions of what this state is. Except the BBQ. We stopped at a little BBQ place called Van's on the way back up from Corpus. We order our brisket. It came, with a sizeable splat of yummy potato salad, on a sheet of wax paper. No waste of time washing plates at Van's. No indeedy. It's sort of strange for a Montrealer to be eating brisket off a sheet of paper, but damn, was that stuff good. Freaking perfect it was. I was thrilled at that moment that I'm not a vegetarian...

So far, I've seen nary a Stetson on anyone's head nor have I heard many southern accents. I have spoken to Geewits though, and she has the accent! And we're meeting up with her tonight, so there will be photos, at least on her blog, 'cause me? Not only have I not taken a picture yet, I also would have to wait for them to be developed in that annoying 20th century way. But Mr. Jazz and I, having bummed a computer from Big Brother (which we haven't yet seen fit to hook up to the net) are seriously thinking of buying a digital camera while we're down here. 'Cause they're so much cheaper dontcha know, and our dollar is, incredibly, on par. Damn I love to shop on vacation*.


*For all the females reading this: 3 pairs of shoes bought in two days. Happiness abounds. 'Nuff said. I'm sure there would be an interesting sociological study to be made on the passion women have for shoes.