I remarked earlier in the week (here) that I might talk about part of what my wife, my daughter, and I did to mark my wife’s birthday in advance of the event, itself. Again, both my wife and I had to work on the day of and the day after, and our daughter was, as noted, away at camp. Consequently, it fell to the weekend before the day to celebrate the day–and we did so, most of it on Saturday, given other things going on. But that it was done early does not mean it was not done, nor yet that it was not enjoyed–as we’ve demonstrated before.

The focus of our festivities was two-fold, both of which took us to San Antonio. The second of them did not go as well as might have been hoped; it wasn’t an elevator, but it did let us down. The first, though, was enjoyable; we went to the Día de los Muertos Museum in Fiesta at North Star. I’ll admit to some trepidation about visiting a museum that lives above a retail store–and there’s plenty of kitsch to be found in the store, although there’s also a lot worth finding there. And I’ll concede the touristy nature of the museum, itself–but there’s also a fair bit of good content in it, especially given that the museum is an “amateur” production. I do not think there is a formally trained curator on staff; I do, however, think it is a passion project of its ownership, and I can appreciate working on things out of a passion for it despite a lack of access to more “formal” resources.

Small as the museum is, it does work to offer context for the celebration on which it focuses. I don’t know that I quite agree with all of its assertions regarding the deeper history of the observance–some of it seems quite a stretch, and the museum doesn’t do the best job of citing its sources. That said, I certainly appreciate the effort to situate Día de los Muertos in the past and present, as well as in the blend of cultures that gave rise to it.

The focus of the museum, however, is an array of a dozen or so ofrendas. Large and extravagantly decorated–some might call them flamboyant, rococo, or ostentatious–they bespeak exuberance in the celebration. Even for my haphazardly observational self, they were compelling as objects of art; for those who actually follow such observances, I expect they would be decidedly engaging and uplifting. My wife, who is of Hispanic descent, certainly seemed to be moved by the displays, talking at some length afterwards about erecting one in our home in season. (I endorse it for several reasons.)

Our daughter, who is necessarily also of Hispanic descent, though less attuned to it by generational separation, found it less compelling, but I cannot blame her for it. Again, she is more removed from that part of her heritage than her mother is, and I acknowledge that I am not exactly the most enthusiastic celebrant of, well, anything. One museum visit isn’t apt to change that kind of thing, although I know that it can, if things align correctly. I know, too, that they can’t if the visit isn’t made–and, in any event, we went to the museum for my wife. She enjoyed it, seeming to get a lot out of it, and that was the point of the exercise.

It may be that we go back to the Día de los Muertos Museum. The staff noted that they were working on expanding the offerings to include foodstuff demonstrations, and, as my pudgy belly attests, I am decidedly interested in that kind of thing. I think if we do, I’ll make a point of taking notes on site rather than after the fact. Going once, the overall experience matters; going again, I feel I need to do more and better. But that’s always true.

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As it happens, I’ve been away from the day job this week, ownership having determined that, after a full season and the stresses of opening a new office, the company as a whole could use a break. Steeped as I am in the things that I am, I resisted the notion–and I was somewhat justified in it, in the event, with clients making appointments and sending worried emails more or less as soon as the decision to close was made. But since I need and appreciate my paycheck, and since there are other concerns involved, I posted a sign in my office door, and I’ve been away from the office. (I go back Monday; I’ll pick up then.)

In the event, things worked out well. My daughter is off from school this week, and her whirlwind summer tour of the Hill Country doesn’t start until next week. (It is a packed summer for her; she’s got a month of one theatre day-camp [plus dance and cheer instruction], two weeks of Girl Scout camp, two weeks of another theatre day-camp, and a week of a cheer day-camp before a few days off and the resumption of classes.) I’ve gotten to spend a fair bit of time with her, going to a local park and cooking out, or simply relaxing (in and around addressing regular medical appointments for her, because such things need doing, and school being out makes it easier to do them).

Thanks to no small amount of family support, I was also able to take her to the Witte Museum in San Antonio. (Full disclosure: the Witte does not sponsor or endorse me as of this writing, although I wouldn’t be sad to receive such from them.) It’s not the first time we’ve gone; we’ve toured the museum before, although it’s been a few years. It’s not the first time she’s gone; in addition to having gone with me before, my daughter’s visited with one day-camp group or another, and there might’ve been a school field trip to it. It’s far from the first time I’ve gone, either; in addition to having taken my daughter before, I did have one or two school field trips to it. But this trip was special, really. I don’t know if it’s an issue that she’s at just the right age, young enough to be enthusiastic about things and old enough to actually pay attention to and focus on what’s on display. I don’t know if it’s an issue that I’m at a good place for it, relaxed enough to not worry so much about things and to let her be while still engaged enough in things to be good company. Whatever the reason, though, she had a great time, and I had a good time; I feel like she got a lot out of the experience, and I was pleased to be there with her as she did.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the only good part of the day. But it was a good part, and I’m damned glad of it.

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Yesterday (as this posts) was my fourteenth wedding anniversary. It having been a Tuesday, my wife and I knew that we’d not be able to do anything to commemorate the occasion on the day, itself. Both of us work, after all, and neither of us can afford to take the day right at that time. What we did, then, was to go out on the Saturday before. For a while, we had been looking at going out to check out some of the local wineries (the Texas Hill Country abounds in them) and breweries; on Saturday, we took the opportunity to do the latter, stopping off at a few places along Fitzhugh Road west of Austin.

The first stop along our short tour was Jester King Brewery. The approach to it was a bit rough, and the facility shows that it was assembled in stages. Still, the wood-fired pizza looked and smelled good (we ate before heading out), and the beers I had were tasty. Too, there was something of a festival atmosphere about the place, with its open fields, goats, and such, and we were advised by staff of an upcoming event to which we are like to go–taking our daughter with us, weather and circumstances permitting, since it sounds like something she might enjoy. (There were a number of kids of various ages running about the place and petting the goats, as well, so I think there’ll be enough to catch her interest.) It was well worth going to, and I do hope things work out such that we can find our way back over to the place.

The second stop was not far up the road: Beerburg. Getting to it from Jester King was fairly easy, and we decided to eat while we were on site. I’m glad we did; the food was excellent. The beans and rice that accompanied our meals were quite good, the former solid and the latter finely spiced. My wife had a quesadilla she described as the best she’d had, and I very much appreciated my shrimp tacos. The beers were a bit quirky (the mugwort brew, in particular), although, in the brewery’s defense, they had been advertised as being such. I can appreciate experimentation when I know it’s coming, and I’d be willing to taste some of their other trials–as long as I can get more of those tacos!

Afterward, we put in at Fitzhugh Brewing. If Jester King is a festival and Beerburg a wonky local pub, Fitzhugh Brewing is an HGTV home makeover. My wife identified it as evoking the Gaines’s Magnolia in Waco in terms of aesthetic, and she notes it as catering to a demographic in which neither she nor I partake. The beers were decent enough, as was the pretzel we split between us, but none of them were exceptional. It was something of a letdown after the earlier experiences; perhaps if we’d done things in a different order or visited at a different time, we’d’ve enjoyed it more fully.

The last stop on our tour wasn’t on Fitzhugh Road, as such, but the road it becomes as a driver follows it west; it turns to Pedernales Falls Road and then becomes FM 2766. Just off of the intersection of FMs 2766 and 3232, hard by Pedernales Falls State Park, is the Pedernales Falls Trading Post. My wife had long noted wanting to check it out, and I was happy to oblige her (if later than ought to have been the case). The venue offers a vanishingly small indoor space. There is ample outdoor seating, however, and a grill that gives off the most succulent smells as it cooks burgers to go along with pulls from a scant few taps worked by a singularly jovial barman. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, perfect for a quiet couple of beers of an evening, and perfect for us to have closed out our day on. I think we’ll be going back there, too.

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This last week, my wife, my daughter, and I took a bit of a vacation. I was nervous about doing so, to be certain. For one, the last time we thought to take one–spring break for my daughter’s Kindergarten year–happened right as the shutdowns and lockdowns from the novel coronavirus started hitting in earnest in our part of the world. For another, I have…challenges…having fun, as I’ve noted. But I am happy to report that things went well, overall; there are always issues, of course, but they were minor, and the family had a good time.

Heading out from where we live, we went first to Houston, where we spend a couple of days. We traveled by way of Shiner, allowing us to see not only a couple of interesting historical markers, but also to tour the Spoetzl Brewery and sample some of the products of which my wife and I are fond as we sat for a picnic lunch under cloudy skies. And we drove the rest of the way to Houston along surface roads rather than the interstate, which made for a far more pleasant drive, even if it was a longer one. I think I’ll do so much again.

In Houston, we spent a fair bit of time touring around. My wife had grown up in the area and had lived not far from where we stayed, so we had a chance to check out her old stomping grounds, and I was gratified to learn a little bit more about her. We’ve been together for years, and I’m happy about it, and any chance I get to know her better is a welcome thing. Too, our daughter, Ms. 8, getting a sense of her parents’ background is a good thing; we live in the town where I grew up (for a little longer, anyway), so my history is clear enough, and getting the chance to expand on my wife’s for our daughter was good. So was going to Galveston, where we visited a confectioner and went to the beach; both were good for us!

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From Houston, we headed to Lafayette, where my wife and I had attended graduate school. We stayed at a bed-and-breakfast there, the Duchess Downtown, where we received excellent treatment; we felt welcomed and appreciated and at home there, and I recommend it highly. And we revisited a number of the places we’d been together, including the office where we got to know one another while in graduate school and working on translating Beowulf. It was good to go back and find our bricks–UL Lafayette paves its walkways with the names of those who have graduated, so that we symbolically speed current students along their way as we remain part of the institution–as well as to go into the Edith Garland Dupré Library and find both my master’s thesis and my dissertation. Even better, both showed that they’d been checked out, and more than once!

We did some of the touristy stuff, too, of course. Chief among them was heading down to New Iberia, where we called at the Konriko Rice Mill and Museum before heading to Avery Island. At the former, we got some tasty treats that will soon grace our table; at the latter, we toured the Jungle Gardens and the Tabasco factory–as well as making a few purchases for ourselves and our loved ones.

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We also took a little excursion to Breaux Bridge and Henderson, where we got to check out some attractions. Ms. 8 enjoyed walking amid dinosaur models and reconstructions (while her parents needed the exercise!), and the lot of us enjoyed mini golf, go-karting, laser-tag, and the like next door to it. Ms. 8 was especially fond of the karting; I drove her, and she got to learn that, while I drive with restraint on the roads, I don’t have to do so. Little speed junkie that she is, she thrilled in it..

Again, in all, it was a good vacation. We saw and did neat stuff. We ate good food (perhaps more than we should have.) We bonded. And we look forward to doing as much again in the future.

Help me give my daughter more such experiences?