A couple random reasons for nearly not passing your State Vehicle Inspection :

1. the threads on your gas cap are not "big enough".  This actually happened to me last month and it was a first.  I'm there at the service station - a truly captive audience since my car and all my keys are 8 feet off the ground - and the guy's standing there with my inadequate gas cap in hand asking me if I want a new one or if I want to fail the inspection.  

"Well how much do you charge for a new cap?" I asked, and to myself "...that I suspect you now keep a handy inventory of around the corner!"   I suddenly felt like Clark Griswold after he drove the family truckster off the desert road and found himself in front of the shady mechanic who demanded all his money for the repairs:

So I paid the $8.99 for the new and improved gas cap that looked oddly similar to my old one and went on my way with my passing grade.

2. your horn is too weak.  I guess I can understand this one because it's probably a safety issue, but when it happened to Eddy this morning he was a bit at a loss as to what to do next...  So he came to Mechanic Mikie and what ensued should really be the next entry on "There, I Fixed It.com" although since there was no duct tape invovled I think that's an automatic dismissal:

          Eddy: So they said my truck wouldn't pass inspection with the horn not working... Got
                   any ideas?
          Mikie: Have you checked the connections?  Let's do that first...
          [They check the connections, realizing the horn is shot] 

The end result?  Eddy's vehicle is now equipped with a boat horn...  Guess that's what happens when you go to a nautical store to outfit a truck...  And in case you're wondering if that sort of thing is acceptable per the Texas Department of Public Safety, just ask newly legal driver Eddy to give you a demo!

nau-ti-cal  (nôt-kl)

adj.

Of, relating to, or characteristic of ships, shipping, sailors, or navigation on a body of water.

 

an-tique  (n-tk)

n.

An object having special value because of its age, especially a domestic item or piece of furniture or handicraft esteemed for its artistry, beauty, or period of origin.

 

Put these two words together, add a couple of hard-nosed swash-bucklers, and you have one of Galveston Island's most unique shopping experiences.

 

Nautical Antiques & Decor (2202 Mechanic), owned by Adrienne and Michael Culpepper, boasts some of the finest sea worthy relics around.  The shop specializes in everything nautical from boat oars to maritime signal flags, antique pieces of ship, and other unique flavor-ful floatation devices.

 

And if you don't feel like walking the plank, fear not.  There's plenty of other things for land-lovers to sink their toes into.

 

Be sure to check 'em out next time you're downtown.  They're just a block off the Strand.  Or find them online at www.piecesofship.com.

 

Hours of operation:  Thursday - Monday 10am - 6pm; Sunday, 11am - 4pm

                             Closed Tuesday and Wednesday

 

I just voted for my favorite B&B (among other fun categories) at Galveston.com's annual "best of" survey and figured it'd be good timing to share the interview I did with some recent overnight guests of Grace Manor Bed & Breakfast (1702 Postoffice)... 

We caught up with REM and EM (empty-nesters from Northern Virginia) who were on the Island in May visiting family.  They also timed their visit so they could catch the 2010 IBC Beach Revue which was, for us, an added bonus! 

Me: "Why did you choose Grace Manor for your Island accommodations?"
EM: "It came highly recommended from many Islanders as well as the Beach Revue promoters so we gave it a shot and really enjoyed it."
Me: "IBC was very proud to have GM as an official sponsor of the Beach Revue again this year!"

Me: "What impressed you most about GM?"
EM: "The elegance and history of the mansion... Barb's gracious manner in taking care of all her guests... The wonderful front porch and talking with the interesting visitors... And the presence of Gracie and Joe, wonderful additions to GM"
REM adds: "...and the outstanding breakfast!"

Me: "What was your favorite part of the weekend?"
REM: "Perusing the Strand area shops, eating at the waterfront, visiting the Hotel Galvez, and getting to watch the Beach Revue."
EM adds: "and visiting with our children and grand dogs of course!"

Me: "Would you come back to stay at GM again?  How would you rate your experience overall?"
EM: "We'd love to return - it's an outstanding place!  I'd recommend it 100% to anyone planning to visit the Island."
REM: "We'd happily stay there again - had a great time!"

Michael and I have had the pleasure of being daytime guests at GM and experiencing Barb's hospitality.  We'd definitely recommend it for your own of town guests - or even if you want to "get away" without leaving the Island. 

It's sorta funny the evolution that naturally occurs when doing a major renovation on a building that's pretty much a shell.  Michael and I were talking/reminiscing about the steps we've taken as we continue to work on the new-old building for the shop - here we are 18 months into it and although we've come a long way, there's still a LOT to do... 

Basically, we've done stuff in order of what naturally seemed the most important:

1. shelter: get the thing stabilized and make sure it doesn't fall on our heads.  start by manually pumping off the 30,000 gallons of water on the roof.  check.
2. water: be able to successfully flush...  which may or may not require (in our case, it did) the additional assistance of a very resourceful friend who's simply not afraid to get dirty... I'm talkin' sewer pipe dirty here and that's a whooooole different breed of dirty... check.
3. electricity: although not totally essential to survival, being able to plug in a cell phone charger, laptop and eventually credit card machine do come in quite handy when trying to operate a legit biz.  West End Electric - check plus.
4. climate control: HOLY. FREAKING. COW.  I LOVE YOU. 

Since September 13th, 2008 we haven't had climate control.  I know a lot of folks have been in the same boat so I certainly can't complain - in fact, I will readily admit that it truly hasn't been that bad.  I mean our former East End house was built well before climate control of any kind existed - shoot it was built before water ran through any pipes.  So really it was designed with balmy Gulf Coast summers in mind - lots of windows, shaded porches, and hallways that shot straight through the center of the house so air circulation was a cinch. 

But, since we sold the house (small amount of sadness, but we know she's in good hands with the new owners)  and have continued work at the new shop sans such fancy advancements like "windows that open" or "climate control", many people have looked at us like we're crazy.  And I now realize they were right.  All of them.

On Wednesday, our office took a giant leap into the 19th century and became air conditioned.  Check, check and check.  Man, is it glorious.  It's our one little personal piece of heaven now - aside from our fave watering hole next door, of course.  But they insist on you wearing pants over there, so it's not completely the same.  (I don't think Will was privy to that memo...) 

All I can say is that we are truly blessed.  And man is my husband handy... 

Yikes.  Beware of strange things today.  As if things could get stranger on this sandbar.

It got me thinking.  What strange things have I experienced since living in Galveston?  For your reading pleasure, here's a few...

One Xmas Eve the lady and I were traveling down our street with a friend returning from an errand and lo and behold what did appear (nope, not Santa and his magic reindeer)?  Coyotes.  In the middle of our street.  In the Silk Stocking District.  Classic.

And then there's the time I played chicken (you know the driving game where you drive toward one another and whoever swerves away is the chicken) with "wheel-chair Ricky" (local homeless fella prior to the storm) at a gas station.  Sucker wouldn't move as I pulled in to grab some gas.  He just sat there, so I kept inching closer to him until he realized (in his stupor) that he wasn't winning against Mr.  F-150.  Just silly.

Watching a funnel cloud from our gay-bour's front porch as it danced out over the Gulf (it, in fact, made its way on land and tore apart Dolphin World on the Seawall).  Sheesh.

Shortly after we moved into our house there was a spell that I constantly woke at 3 a.m. every night for months it seems.  I never quite figured out why.  Even after walking through the house to see if I was supposed to "find" something or someone.  Crazy.

And finally, last Halloween night I watched a young man get tazed.  Not once.  But twice.  Now that was a strange night.  Strange indeed.

Now.  Share with us your strange shenanigans.

It's official.  I'm over it.  Being pregnant that is.  And I believe the worst is about to hit because I'm now officially 30 weeks along.  Which means I still have 10 more to go.

Aside from minor edema, for the first time ever I now have heartburn (my deepest sympathies to regular sufferers - I truly had no idea).  And my hips and back hurt all the time.  What might be the worst for me: I come from a long line of hyperactive folks so facing difficulty in such mundane tasks as, uh, I don't know - moving - is a tad annoying.  Bending over?  Well, let's just say that no one wants to see that, and that it's getting close to a no-go. 

The cherry on top: I've determined that I now look like a bloated snowman.  (Mondo says I'm adorable, but he kinda has to say that).  And while channeling the stunning visage of said holiday character, did I mention, it's soooooo hhhooootttt?!

Ok, ok.  I'm done griping about my current ailments.  Now, for an interesting observation I've made over the past 30 weeks.  Folks sure are squirrelly about pregnancy and babies, and I'm not just talking about the knock-down, drag-out fights over co-sleeping vs. crying it out.  I think I can speak for both Mondo and myself when I say that you can learn a lot about people by how they react to the prospects of baby names and colors.

Names

As many of you may have noticed, I've never mentioned names for Piglet.  There's a reason.  Because we're actually taking some great advice:  We're not telling anyone.  Actually, we haven't decided on a name, but we're also not telling anyone because opinions are like, well, you know the saying . . . everyone's got one.  We do have a list narrowed to 5 names. 

Oftentimes when people ask about names, if we say anything other than we haven't picked a name, they get defensive and sometimes angry.  (Squirrelly I tell ya).  Regardless of if we say that we don't know or that we're not sharing, we get peppered with names, "tips," and of course the list of what we should absolutely not name Piglet.  We really like all 5 of our choices, and each has a very special meaning to us, so we don't want that ruined inadvertently because "So-and-so named their Pekinese that" or "I went to high school with a so-and-so and they were a jerk." 

Mainly, we think the minute we see Piglet, we'll know the right name.  I'll give a hint though:  none of the 5 are in the top 300 names for 2009.  (Disclaimer:  for Piglet relatives who do know the 5 names in consideration, a reminder that you swore an oath).

 
The Pink Nightmare 

While I'm not planning on sharing names, as promised, I will post pictures of the nursery and bedding very soon.  It's just not finished yet.  Here's what I can tell you about both the nursery and Piglet's future attire: there will be limited to zero pink.  Seriously.  Some of you may not be too shocked as I alluded to this before, and we're sticking to it. 

Before folks start going postal, here's the deal:  We don't hate pink.  We're just not fans.  And we certainly don't hate your pink.  We just don't really "do" pink at casa de Mondo.  Ok, ok, so I also bristle at the rapidly increasing commercialization of gender.  (Anyone seen the pink toy vacuum cleaner?  Saw it at our Target recently. For reals). 

Mostly, we just don't like pink.  If at some point Piglet goes gaga for pink, so be it.  For now, she won't know the difference.

For all of our dear friends and family who are overwrought with fear, doubt, and sheer sorrow that we don't want to go all pink princess for Piglet.  Have no fear.   

Historically, pink was the color for boys until roughly - get this- the 1940's!  Apparently pink was all boy back in the day because it was related to the color red, a more masculine, active color.  So, blue was for girls, a more subdued color and related to the Virgin Mary.  I got a good chuckle thinking of some of Gtown's historical grand figures decked out in pink.  (Think Colonel Moody or Ike Kempner).

Oh yeah, and both boys and girls wore dresses back in the day too.  So, she'll be fine.  Pinky swear.

We're not totally militant about it though.  You'll see.  There will be some pink in the nursery. 

I'm quite certain that even if strangers mistake her for a boy because we have not donned her in a hot pink, bedazzled princess fedora, she'll get over it.  I did.  I was pretty much bald until I was three and was clothed in a whole range of hues.

Besides, this is Galveston.  Land of the eccentric.  The accepted.  The avant-garde.  And if Gail Borden could ride around town on a pet bull, then I think we can handle a Piglet without pink.