Odds and ends, mostly odds

Random observations:

Cars are different here than in Maine. It seems like about half of them are ginormous pickups, many with extra-wide beds and double wheels in back. I keep losing my rental car between them in parking lots. And there are lots more sports cars than at home, owing, I suppose, partly to climate and partly to lots of money, especially around Houston. We're not talking Mustangs and Corvettes, either, but all sorts of exotic-looking things.

Cowboy boots, hats, and belts are everywhere. Galveston constables wear cowboy hats, and you can pick up a straw one at any supermarket.

Bling: If you don't do cowboy, maybe bling is your style.

Land: Much of the land I've seen in a big triangle from Galveston and Houston north to Dallas and west to San Antonio seens to be what I would call scrub. It doesn't look useful for farming, though you see cattle ranches. I still can't figure out how the state got settled. Parts are so devoid of elevation, rivers, or development that there are 70 mph speed limits on the farm roads.

Bayous in Texas aren't mangrove swamps full of Cajuns playing zydeco. They're inlets or streams. Some look like canals and some like bays. There doesn't seem to be any size or shape requirement for calling it a bayou. You have to get over them, and every so often you're driving along and suddenly a bridge seems to rise straight up. This one is actually over the intracoastal waterway, so it's really big, but a lot of the little bridges look like this, too.

There's pie in Texas. Lots of pie. Also pecans and smokehouses; I saw a drive-through smokehouse. And hand-cut doughnuts. No town is too small for a Family Dollar and a donut shop. On a related note, fried catfish with Creole-style okra makes a terrific meal.

Texans, like everyone, can be rude, and weird. Me to the woman who stepped right in front of me, blocking my view, at the Mardi Gras parade: "Uh, you just stepped in front of me and I can't see." Woman: "I'm pregnant. I have to be in front."