When we first started traveling, the 1st mate spent about a month going through the atlas finding routes to places where we might be going. Every one of them, no matter where it ended, went through Texas. We did manage a weekend trip to Texas for Triduum/Easter two years ago, but this is the first time that we've made it here for more than a few days.
We began noticing "Southern" things in OK. A mimosa tree or pecan tree here or there, grits, 500 degree heat, a little boy named Striker, who was called Bubba...etc. Once we got to Texas, things really hit home. The accents, the fact that it never cools down at all, it's all here, very much like Alabama.
On July 3, we were camped on the shore of Lake Texoma. The campground was exceedingly crowded because of the holiday, and the sites were uncomfortably close together, but that could all be got over when one considered the fishing, or so I am told. Our neighbors on the right where a loud, but friendly group, who accorded us plenty of amusement during our stay.
We decided to have fajitas for supper. Because we were on 30 amp and could not run two air conditioners (the front one and the back one) we decided to cook outside so that we would not heat the house up with our dinner. The Commodore and the crew were down at the lake, fishing, and the Admiral was starting to get really hungry, and so after a bit of discussion, he and I decided to go ahead and cook supper. But we had not the wood for our fire. It had just rained and everything good was soaked.
The commodore returned in time to suggest that rather than building a we fire we should just buy a bundle of wood. I agreed to start a fire while the Commodore and Admiral went for the wood. I was just beginning to light our little fire when the Head of the Neighbors on the Right came over and called out that they had a very hot pile of briquettes that they had finished with, and that we were more than welcome to use. We declined politely, preferring to have a campfire. The Commodore and Admiral left, and I got some small sticks burning steadily. The Head of the Neighbors came again to repeat his offer. I assured him that our fire was well on its way.
Sometime in the next minute or so, something of great importance was spotted by everyone. A great black thunderhead was looming over the campground. About thirty seconds later the winds began to rise. Persons began hauling in awnings and blow-away-able objects to safety. I calmly continued building my fire. The Commodore and the Admiral returned. Another of the neighbors pointed out that we really were welcome to use their fire. As the first drops of rain fell, the Commodore accepted the offer. We dragged our frying pan and our steak over to the fire and let the rain destroy my infant flames. The neighbors' fire was a two foot long, two foot wide bed of red hot coals. The commodore slapped the steaks on just as the skies let loose. I held the umbrella over the food. The neighbors lowered the roof of their little tent and went on eating their supper. One of them noticed us with our umbrella and brought another so that we would have better coverage. We cooked our steaks. The rain poured down and the wind blew. We finished the steaks and returned the umbrella.
We cooked the peppers and onions in Tallulah.