Sunday, July 24, 2005

You gonna eat that?

The plan was for Mrs. A and I to meet up with Francesca (aka the Grouchy Old Yorkie Lady, which as far as I was able to ascertain, is only ¼ correct by the way) and her friend Eleanor at 6:30 across the street from their hotel. Which just happens to be the location of Riscky’s Bar-B-Que. Coincidence? I think not. And wouldn’t you know, for once, the plan was executed flawlessly. We even found a parking spot that was only a block away.

There were hugs and introductions made (and as I recall, they were in that order) and since we were all hungry, we got right to the business of being seated. Unlike last year, when there were only a handful of folks in the joint (I think it was a Tuesday night instead of a Wednesday night), there were lots of folks already there and a steady stream coming in throughout the night. Which made the place a little bit noisier, but that was ok ‘cause we were too.

And (since we were so hungry and all, did I mention that?) naturally, the first thing we did was grab the menus and start talking over the tops of them. It’s amazing how sometimes you can relate to folks like you’ve known them forever. We just picked up the conversation right where we left off last year. And with Mrs. A there, that gave us even more territory to cover.

Well, the next thing you know the waiter was there to take our order and we realized that we hadn’t even really thought about what to eat yet. Not that I needed to do much thinking, mind you. It turns out that Eleanor and I were of the same mind and so we stuck with the All-You-Can-Eat Ribs. Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Mrs. A (who’s watching her girlish figure…I’m watching it too!) decided on the Sliced Brisket.
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And Francesca specifically order the FAMOUS Pork Ribs Image hosted by Photobucket.com
(none of those ordinary or infamous ribs for her, thankyouverymuch).

The ordering of gustatorial delights over with, we then went back to talking. And laughing. A lot. Francesca told us about her new home and about the cross-country trip and how Nick wound up with two teenage girls riding in his vehicle while Francesca had the run of the CD player in hers. Eleanor brought us up to speed on her new job, which is just like the old one only better. Mrs. A regaled us with tales of child rearing and the like, and I told everyone how much I still like my new job.

Sometime in there, the food arrived and the conversation slowed just a tad. Image hosted by Photobucket.com
This is Eleanor showing us how it's done.

We did enjoy talking about our kids and the funny things they say and do when they’re little.
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Everybody had a tale or two to tell, but Francesca had two of the best stories of the night. (They're her stories, I'll let her tell them if she wants)

And then, before it seemed like any time at all had passed, it was after 9:00 and we had to say our goodbyes.

::sniff::
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Image hosted by Photobucket.com
We got a couple of group photos to commemorate the occasion and promised to do it again next year (if not sooner).

Sorry this took so long to post. Living it is always more fun than writing about it. (Unless of course, you just make stuff up, and then it's a toss-up)

So who’s coming to Fort Worth next? If you’ll come, we’ll have the welcome wagon all gassed up and ready to go.

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    Thursday, July 21, 2005

    Dance, dance, yeah!

    I've been accused of a lot of things, but being graceful has never been one of them.

    I've never danced. Or even BEEN to a lot of dances. (I can probably count them on one hand) As far as I can tell, I come from a long line of non-dancers. Southern Baptists don't dance. (though it's not an official rule, just one of those things EVERYBODY knows you can't do) Many people think of this as a downside to being Southern Baptist. Not for me. Just one more excuse in the old arsenal, if you know what I mean. And really, I think me not dancing should be viewed as some sort of public service. Maybe even entitling me to a the key to the city, or a medal or something. Let's face it, the words "dancing" and "Aardvark" should only be used together if you're naming a pub or forming a combination zydeco/blues/metal/jazz/country/punk/polka band.

    The thing is, Mrs. A has always wanted to dance with me.

    So this year, it being our 20th anniversary and all, I finally agreed to take a community education class at TCU called "Dancing for the Rhythmically Challenged". (I think I qualify well enough) The teacher is a real nice guy and he's kept it pretty simple.

    For good reason.

    We are learning the basic steps to the merengue, the foxtrot, and swing. Of the three, I like the merengue the best (and as I recall, it's also good on pies...what? It's not the same?). Mrs. A and I have decided that we still need lots of work on the foxtrot. There are no trotting foxes (another good band name, by the way) when we take the floor. The way we dance, it's more aptly called the Aardvark shuffle. I think our biggest problem with the foxtrot is that you move around the floor and we keep running out of room. Well, maybe our BIGGEST problem is the moving your feet part, but the running out of room comes in a close second. And as for swing dancing...let's just say you want to give us A LOT of room on the dance floor so as not to get injured by a wildly flailing arm or leg. Is does seem to be good exercise though. And we do laugh a lot. Come to think of it, other folks seem to laugh a lot too...Nah, couldn't be related.

    We have one more class to go and then a "graduation" party held at one of the local dance studios. I don't know about that, though.

    They might expect me to dance.

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    Tuesday, July 19, 2005

    Thank you for holding

    Your call is important to us.

    I know how irritating hearing that sounds. I am working on a post about dinner with Francesca and Eleanor, but with two teenagers in the house (who seem to want online CONSTANTLY. I mean, honestly, WHERE do the get THAT from?) I either have to be coherent at the crack-o-dawn or stay up WAY past my bedtime. I uploaded the pictures the other night and managed to finish about 12:15. Stupid Photobucket. Stupid dial-up.

    I know, I know. You feel SO sorry for me.

    Anyway, just wanted to let you know I haven't forgotten.

    Please hold and the next available customer service representative will answer your call.

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    Friday, July 15, 2005

    Dot - Dot - Dot

    Well, when I told Francesca that I'd try to post more often, I don't think this is what she had in mind. It certainly wasn't what I had in mind.

    But this will have to do as a placeholder until I can upload the pictures and regale you with MY version of events.

    Later.
    a

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