Hornet’s Nest
I decided to stay in McKinney with Diana this week, rather than make the trip back down to Austin. The early part of the week was heavily work focused with some system challenges keeping me busy. I’m hoping we’ve turned the corner on those now, performance has been great the last few days. Hope I didn’t just jinx things.
There were no silly 4th of July questions this year. It seems that every other year or so, somebody asks me “Do you celebrate the 4th of July in Scotland?”. I know they don’t mean do we celebrate being free of the responsibility of the United States. Ha. We celebrated with late morning 
workouts and then lunch at Toulouse in Legacy West. Diana was excited when her choice for restaurant stuck – the other two options we discussed were closed for the holiday. We enjoyed a delicious white wine and steak tartare with frites. I know, you’re thinking our diet is almost exclusively raw meat these days – only when we go to French places that do it well.
Dinner was the more traditional holiday fare – burgers and veggies on the grill at home. I was pretty brave to spend as much time by the outdoor grill. Why is that? Well…are you familiar with the expression “A Real Hornet’s Nest”? 
And did you know that I’m highly allergic to wasp and bee stings – swell up like the Elephant Man. Turns out hornets nests are not always in trees. We found five piles of sand in the beds next to the grill, looking just like ant hills without the ants. Further investigation showed some kind of bug burrowing into the ground and kicking out sand. We decided to leave well alone and wait for the pest control experts.
The pest control professional arrived on Friday morning and confirmed hornets’ nests. He was very careful in spraying them, commenting that they can be very aggressive and their sting hurts a lot. Lots of mud-dauber and wasps nests were also removed. We feel like we’re under attack from flying stingers of all varieties.
Friday was a light work day for me – I was able to enjoy a swim and watch some good Wimbledon matches. Coco Gauff’s recovery to win over Hercog was very impressive, more so considering she’s 15 years old and on the Center Court. I enjoy picturing my Mum and Dad talking to the TV as they watch Wimbledon.
Saturday started with a swim and crossword, before settling in to read and enjoy the tennis on TV, while McD sunbathed. Then I surprised Diana with an 
early dinner at the Grape. She says she had been thinking about going all week – must have some special ESP going. We started by sharing the chicken liver mousse, which now has the pistachio topping added back – last time we visited, over a year ago we guess, they had changed it, and not for the better. Then we split a delicious salad, followed by steak frites for Diana and scallops for me. A lovely evening and way too long since we’ve visited the Grape.
It was an early start on Sunday to get a swim and crossword in, before packing to start traveling at 1pm. Me over to the bus to Austin, and Diana to the airport for a flight to Tampa. We both arrived at our destinations about 30 minutes late – which is not too bad for the weekend after the 4th of July and the hordes of people moving around. As I finish this post up, I’ve just finished troubleshooting the internet and TV service in the apartment – the third reboot was the charm.
We received a couple of entertaining pictures from Denny and Anne this week as they continue their travels through Europe. This week in Berlin. Here Jack and Mason recreate the famous picture of them peeking their heads in to the cottage in New Orleans as we were waking up.
And here Dad and the boys manage to find an Irish bar in Berlin to watch the Womens’ World Cup Final:
Two short, quick reads were a very welcome change of pace on the literary front this week.
“The Parade” by Dave Eggers, a very favourite author, is a spare and powerful story of two men, Western contractors sent to work far from home, and tasked with paving a road to the capital in a dangerous and largely lawless country.
Four and Nine are partners, working for the same company, sent without passports to a nation recovering from ten years of civil war. Together, operating under pseudonyms and anonymous to potential kidnappers, they are given a new machine, the RS-80, and tasked with building a highway that connects the country’s far-flung villages with the capital. Four, nicknamed “The Clock,” is one of the highway’s most experienced operators, never deviating from his assigned schedule. He drives the RS-80, stopping only to sleep and eat the food provided by the company. Nine, however, spreads chaos: speeding ahead on his vehicle, chatting and joking with locals, eating at nearby bars and roadside food stands, he threatens the schedule, breaks protocol, and ends up fighting for his life when contracting malaria. His illness, corruption, and theft compromise their high-stakes mission, and Four and Nine discover danger far greater than anything they could pose to one another.
Impending doom seemed to be lurking through the last third of this book but never arrived. Then it all struck in the very last paragraph of the book. Wow – wasn’t expecting that. This book is a very impressive allegory for so many of the civil wars that are tearing countries apart.
“Biloxi” by Mary Miller is quite different than any book that I’ve read in a while. Miller skillfully transports us to her unapologetic corner of the South—this time, Biloxi, Mississippi, home to sixty-three-year-old Louis McDonald Jr. His wife of thirty-seven years has left him, his father has passed—and he has impulsively retired from his job in anticipation of an inheritance check that may not come. In the meantime, he watches reality television, drinks beer, and avoids his ex-wife and daughter. One day, he stops at a house advertising free dogs and meets overweight mixed-breed Layla. Unexpectedly, Louis takes her, and begins investigating local dog parks and buying extra bologna. Mining the absurdities of life with her signature “droll minimalist’s-eye view of America” (Joyce Carol Oates), Mary Miller’s “Biloxi” captures every day life in the South perfectly.
The exotic turntable picture is for you Raj – hope you’ve completed your audio penance.
I found this song was in my Blues Piano book as I revisited it this week. A great exercise in dexterity and I’m nowhere near up to speed yet.
Speaking of revisiting, I played this album from Charlie Hunter again this week and enjoyed it just as much as on first discovery.
And here’s a new jazz trumpeter from Italy that I enjoyed. The album gets a bit repetitive, but I do enjoy the modern sound.