Without air and accommodations to pay for, our big spend for Vegas was O by Cirque du Soleil at Bellagio, but we had other things to do before the show!
First up, the High Roller! I’d felt so wise when I bought a Big Bus package with two days of Hop Off/Hop On, the Night Tour and the High Roller. Well, you know how the Hop On/Hop Off went and I was too exhausted to do the Night Tour, so I wasn’t expecting much from the High Roller. I figured it was money down the drain.
We were all gussied up for our evening at the Bellagio when we arrived at the High Roller ticket office. We were dismayed to find their lobby chock full of people, standing in a line that snaked back and forth for several layers. What was worse was that there was no short line for people like us who had already paid and just needed to pick their tickets. We had to stand in line FOREVER with people who just happened by – people and their 47 kids. This was the biggest crowd we’d seen so far in Sin City.
I was not happy and my expectations were not being met. We’d allowed what should have been plenty of time with a will-call receipt, but the cookie was not crumbling our way. I was anxious as we creeped along towards the cashiers, hoping our package deal wasn’t going to ruin our big night out. We got our admission passes at the last possible moment, just before we had to walk away, and the wheel was about to turn, so we hotfooted it up the stairs and into our High Roller gondola.
Now truth be told, I would never have signed up for the High Roller on my own, but it was part of the package and I thought Bill might like it. Being somewhat acrophobic I don’t go around looking for high wire experiences, so with the exception of the Texas Star at the State Fair of Texas, I haven’t been on any of these new fangled Ferris wheels which are popping up all over the place.
I edged to the middle of the gondola, found a place to perch and held on for dear life. Bill, of course, stood with his nose inches from the glass. Despite my fears it was quite a lovely experience. Thank goodness we’d scored a gondola without any rowdy kids, so it was actually serene as we were pulled up into the sky.
We’d come at twilight, when the lights of the big city had just begun to twinkle, but there was still a little light in the sky. When the ride was over, it was full dark. We’d timed it just right.
As soon as we hit the ground, the serenity disappeared. It was almost time for O! I trotted across the Linq and down the Strip as fast as my kitten-heled black peau de soie slides would allow.
Come back next week for our Big Night at the Bellagio!
One nice tradition for the women of my church is the Sweet Sixteen Tea held for our young ladies on that special birthday. In the past, the events have been held at the church, but this time, the location was moved to a member’s home who lives out in the rural area between Heath and Forney. She’s been doing a lot of remodeling and she was thrilled for an occasion to share it with her sisters.
Since my house is theoretically on the way to the hostess’ house, my bestie planned on picking me up. I say theoretically, because we didn’t count on the traffic and wrecks she’d encounter getting from her dance lesson to my house. Good old Wayz kept rerouting her and when she told me she was being sent to Hwy 80, I knew she would have been better off going directly to the tea. At that point, she would have had to stop and input the address of Victoria’s house into Wayz. So she came on to my house and we went together, as planned and we ended up being only about 10 minutes late.
The tea was lovely. We played some game which combines, among other things, Charades and Password, using words which were particular to the honoree. It was a lot of fun, mostly because there were so many delightful young ladies, who knew the honoree well and played the game often among themselves. I was reluctant to join in the timed game, because the timing thing flusters me, but by the final round, where we could only use 1 one-word clue, we’d already gone through the words twice, so I figured I didn’t need to be too clever. Then the honoree opened up her gifts and she was very thrilled with each and every item.
After the Tea, it was nearing dinner time, so we decided to pick up something to take to my house and share with Bill. Deb wanted BBQ, so even though Bill and I had been to a Dickey’s just a few days before, that’s where we went. Can any Texan get tired of BBQ or Tex Mex? It hasn’t happened to me yet. We enjoyed a feast of ribs, okra and slaw. Then we settled down in the den to look at scrapbook albums two and three I’d just finished for a client.
Sunday Starts Quietly, Too
I finished up my latest scrapbooking client’s albums early on Saturday, so before the tea and Sunday before and after church, I begun to prepare for a presentation I’m doing Friday – this Friday and if you’re reading this the day it is published, that’s today. It’s only a brief spotlight, so the primary impact will be the door prize and samples I give away. I spent the time packaging the mini-album samples and getting contact stickers on the catalogs I’d just received.
This will be the second spotlight I am doing for this group, but the first one was a couple of years ago when I still had not figured out most people just don’t have or won’t make time for memory keeping. Now the focus of my scrapbooking business is creating custom albums for them. I’m happier, because I never loved selling scrapbooking supplies, but I love scrapbooking! When I get a new client, that means I get to scrapbook more and someone is going to pay me for what I love doing.
A Paradigm Shift
Let’s face it. Dallas is expensive. When we lived in the small community of Pismo Beach, on the Central Coast of California for a few years, back in the early 2000’s, we’d get tickets to great events in the $35 -50 per person range. That’s not chicken feed, but it felt comfortable. When we came back to Dallas we were faced with sticker shock. Not only were things more expensive than they’d been on the Central Coast, but there had also been a huge jump in pricing from our previous days in Dallas. We’ve been back for over a decade, but we’ve been to very few live shows.
When we have attended something live, we’d usually see free or inexpensive performances at local colleges or we’d get reduced rates to events at the museums and gardens we belonged to. Season tickets to the opera, which I’d had in the past, were just not an affordable option, especially when Bill is not as taken with opera as I am. We’ve been to a few Cirque du Soleil events or won tickets to the odd sporting event, but outside that we’ve made our own entertainment.
Then came Covid and like everyone else, what used to be no longer existed. Our museum and garden memberships were not providing the types of entertainments we’d enjoyed in the past, so we’d let them go. We needed to get more aggressive in pursuing our entertainment. Recently, we bit the bullet and bought tickets to a Flamenco performance in a South Dallas venue. What WERE we getting ourselves into?
Seat Selection & Parking
On Facebook, I’d seen tickets to a Fever Flamenco event. We love Flamenco music and dance, so we definitely wanted to go. The price seemed right, about $60 a person, until I read the fine print, ” 🎫 Basic Admission – fair visibility without seat selection.” That made me nervous. We’d have no control over where we sat and we’d have “fair” visibility. What did that even mean?
For $65 we still had to sit where they said and our visibility would be good, but that didn’t seem much more comforting. So we bit another bullet and opted for Preferential Admission, where we could pick our seats and have great visibility. It was $90 per person, but the other option was to stay home and watch more TV. We bought the tickets.
The venue was Edison’s on Cockrell Avenue. I’d never been to Edison’s, but when I was growing up in Dallas, Cockrell Hills was a no-go zone. I am very aware of the renewal efforts happening south of Dallas in areas like Bishop Arts, but living on an opposite side of town, I don’t have much personal experience with them. So we were venturing into strange territory.
Arriving at the venue we were directed to a pay parking lot. Getting out of the car I saw a sign which instructed us to text the lot id to a number. I tried, but didn’t get anywhere. The attendant tried and got far enough along to realize we didn’t have any credit card loaded onto our phone. No _ _ _ _ Sherlock! And I don’t plan to EVER have a credit card loaded on my phone.
So, Bill moved his car to a spot on the street. Thanks to the irritating digital world we saved a few bucks. That’s not always an available solution and some day we may have to navigate that little technical maneuver, but that didn’t happen on Sunday evening.
Now, Edison’s is a cool place in a sort of industrialized area. We felt quite safe It has a roomy entry area graced by an antique car, which opens onto a larger space, which opens onto other areas. The stage was set up in the main area and the seating is café chairs.
Our preferential seating put us on the front row of chairs, but in front of that row is the VIP table seating which was $120-135 per person. For that price you either got “amazing” or “best” visibility with “a charcuterie box with Spanish products, and meet and greet with the artists to take photos after the show.” If you should decide to go this weekend (it runs through Sunday) go ahead and opt for the VIP seats. You may not be interested in the charcuterie box or meeting the artists, but since this is Flamenco, you’re going to want to see their feet and you have to work at that when you sit anywhere behind the VIP seats.
Fever’s Flaming Flamenco Feet
All that being said, we loved it. The stage is very small, so the performance is very intimate. The musicians come out one at a time for a short solo and then take their chairs on the back of the stage. Then out come the dancers and you are whipsawed into the fantastic!
The musicians were talented. The costumes were beautiful. The dancers? Oh my goodness!!!! They were truly amazing. Some sets they danced together and others they danced solo. The woman and her trailing flamenco flounce were astounding. How she maneuvered on the tiny stage with all that dress was a wonder in itself. She put so much vigor in her performance that one time when she nodded her head, bobby pins flew out into the audience. She also had beautiful, fascinating hands. Sweat poured down her face and I decided her dress must be lined in plastic, because in spite of the sweat on her face, none leaked through her costume.
Now the guy was a whole different experience. His costume was very body conscious and he didn’t have a flounce to swing around. Instead, he just had it all going on, from the tips of his fingers above his head to the flaming red shoes that moved so fast you could barely see them. He had sweat pouring out of every pore and by the end of his solo performance, his hair was sopping wet and sweat drops were being peppered on the audience closest to the stage. Remember that during your seat selection. If you get the VIP seats, you might want to be on the far side of the table!
Both dancers totally captivated the audience and the musicians provided comic relief from time to time, as well as wonderful, authentic music. Yes, I think you should go. I loved it and am so glad we took a chance on it. We’ll be checking out other offerings from Fever, because this was wonderful.
Keep coming back for Travel Here, Travel There and Memory Keeping 101.
It’s hard to believe this guy is smiling at me. So far it’s been as if someone should have done more than give us a free trip to Vegas. They should have paid us for our time, trouble and trauma. Seriously! We’re starting our third day in Vegas and the most fun we’ve had so far was getting our id cards and tickets for public transportation.
We headed out to McDonald’s. I was dying for one of those famous breakfast buffets, but Bill just couldn’t face that much food so early in the morning. He was being very patient with this disaster of a vacation, so I wasn’t going to make him go anywhere he didn’t want to. We waited a bit for the Deuce, but decided to walk when it didn’t come immediately. It was too chilly just standing there.
Along the way we came to the Flamingo and decided to step inside and see the Wild Life Habitat. It was a pleasant little garden, but honestly, not worth a mention in the guidebooks. Then onto Mickey D’s. We were becoming regulars.
Fun at the Forum
I’ve got to be honest with you. Things had been so bad on this vacation I was regretting we’d won it. The day before, the Grand Canal Shops at the Venetian had not been very entertaining, so I felt a bit of trepidation about heading to the Forum, but what the heck else were we going to do with ourselves – gamble? We’d rather stand and throw our money in the Bellagio Fountain!
Though I can’t exactly tell you exactly why, we enjoyed the Forum a lot more than we did the Grand Canal. Perhaps it was because it was fairly quiet that morning and the Grand Canal was bustling. Maybe we like classic Roman architecture better than Renaissance Italian. Maybe I was finally feeling better. Maybe it was the softer lighting and higher ceilings of the Forum. I don’t know. We just had fun.
One of the things that really helped us enjoy the Forum was a marvelous curator at one of the art galleries. Bill asked her a few questions and suddenly he had a new best friend. We were there for a long, long time.
Then there was the big grandiose fountains in the Forum. The Venetian had fountains, too, but they more like waterfalls and the fountains in the Forum made you feel as if you actually were in one of those faraway places I love so much.
Of course, like all things since Covid, we were supposed to wear masks and the stores would only let in a certain amount of people at a time. So places like Versace and Louis Vuitton had a roped off area in front of the store with patrons waiting to get in. Without the ropes we might have strolled in, but we weren’t going to wait. No loss to them I guess, because I’ve been carrying the same old Coach bag for years now and will probably be buried with it!
The worst part of being there during Covid was that they’d changed the schedule for The Fall of Atlantis attraction – instead of hourly every day, it was only on certain days at certain times. Wednesday wasn’t one of them!
Buffet Lunch at Luxor
It was awful! That’s all you really need to know. Here’s a serving of beef brisket from the carving station. Yuck!!
So, I knew breakfast was your best bet and I also knew there were better choices than the Luxor. I shared my information with my traveling companion, but we had My Vegas Slots rewards at the Luxor and Bill was interested in seeing it.
Now I stayed at Luxor a number of years ago and it was a wonderful experience. I also enjoyed a couple of different buffets, one in the lobby and a bigger one downstairs – but that was pre-Covid.
The last buffet standing was the one downstairs and I had remembered it as a bright bustling place full of eager tourists, busy employees and delicious food. That was no longer the case. We were almost alone in the establishment. The employees were begrudgingly shoving food onto the buffet tables and the food was nothing to write home about, unless it was to complain.
I tried to make the best of it. We were going bogo – right? Only it really was awful and for Bill, the brisket was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He actually went and found a manager to complain to – who gave us a coupon for a free meal on our next visit. Are you kidding us? I think Bill had hoped for a refund, but we wouldn’t be coming back to this place EVER!!
It was time to take another Deuce bus to Paris and get ready for our really big evening! Jane and Bill are going to stay out late in Vegas. come back next week and stay up late with us.
Last weekend I was finishing up a custom scrapbook for a client, so I was in hog heaven. I happily worked through the day in my studio, content with the knowledge I had a great evening planned. We were continuing the birthday celebration for my bestie with dinner at Lavendou.
Lavendou Bistro Provincial is one of my very favorite local restaurants, along with Javier’s, Brio and Bazille. Add in Joe T. Garcia’s over in Fort Worth and I really would never need another restaurant. That’s why Deb and I are so happy, waiting for our table on Saturday night. We were in for a treat.
I used to live just blocks away from Lavendou, so it was my go-to restaurant for lunch-time meet-ups. Once we moved to Heath, getting to Lavendou for lunch was a bit of a stretch and I miss it more than I can say.
So, you can imagine how thrilled I was when Deb said she wanted her birthday meal at my old favorite. Now, I have to tell you. I do not usually go to Lavendou for dinner, because it can get a little pricey, not a pricey as Dallas can get for a nice meal out, but pricier than we usually spend. However, it was a special occasion and the meal was outstanding.
Well, the only one who ate a meal was Bill. He actually ordered up a seafood entrée and ate every bite, which is unusual for him. He usually eats about half of his food and takes the rest home for another meal. This evening there was nary a crumb or a drop of sauce left on the plate.
Meals at Lavendou start out with warm, fresh baguette slices. Bill’s not much of one for bread either. He likes it and may use it to sop up the sauce, but he doesn’t just sit around and spread butter or oil on it. At Lavendou he gives Deb and I a run for our slices, because the sour dough bread is just that good.
Deb and I moved from bread to soup. She had French Onion, which she loved, but I had Lobster Bisque, which is an occasion all by itself. I could wax eloquent on it’s attributes, but I’ll just say you should have it when you go – and you are going to go aren’t you?
From there we moved on to escargot. Oh my goodness! How delicious!! Tender tasty meat bits smothered in garlic butter and yet another excuse to eat more bread slices. We were in heaven.
We also had just barely enough room left for dessert. Yes, we skipped right over the entrée. Now, Lavendou has a variety of delicious desserts, but when I’m there for dinner, there’s only one I care about and that’s the chocolate soufflé. You have to go in knowing you want it, because it has to be ordered with your meal, but just do it!
An absolutely perfect meal with my two favorite people in the world. You can’t ask for more than that. We did make one stop on the way home. Another thing we loved about living in Far North Dallas was Central Market. Whenever we’re over that way, Bill has to stop. He might also get a slice of Carrot Cake, a Crème Brulee or some sushi, but he’s there for the freshly made gelato. We always get a large box with at least three flavors. I say we, but I don’t eat much in the way of ice cream or gelato, so it’s all about Bill. Me, I hang out in the floral department. It’s spectacular. I don’t buy. I just look. I did buy some chicken salad from their chef’s selection, but that’s because I was feeling all kinds of luxurious.
A Sunday in Fort Worth Garden
As if I hadn’t already had an absolutely perfect weekend, Sunday was also special. I woke up early and put the finishing touches on the album I was working on. I had coffee with Bill (he has the coffee, while I drink my beloved Diet Dr Pepper) and then went to church. After church we ate our Central Market chicken salad and headed to Fort Worth.
Any day I spend with my husband can be quite special, but my very favorites are the ones he actually plans himself. While I was away at church, he researched ways to spend the afternoon and decided on a trip to the Fort Worth Botanic Garden where they were having a Fall Festival. He confessed he had checked the Dallas Arboretum first, where we have maintained a membership for years, but during the pandemic they started requiring us to schedule our visits. That’s a hassle! So we let our membership lag and since they are still requiring us to schedule our visits, we rarely go. Covid has yet another permanent impact on my life. Maybe some day they will wise up and we can go back to our casual drop-bys.
I’ve been making treks to Fort Worth for a long time and I remember when their botanic garden was both small and free, unless you visited the Japanese Garden. That was a long time ago. Now, there’s a Garden Center, a Conservatory, all the old gardens and some new gardens. Seniors pay $10 to enter, but then the Japanese Garden is included so, it was a very inexpensive way to spend a great afternoon. Since there was also a festival, then we were really doing good.
Rather than wear you out with more words I’ll just show you some pictures. The Japanese Festival was only one weekend, but they have another in the spring when the cherry blossoms are opening. They are also just about to start their holiday show, Lightscape and I think it’s going to be wonderful – so go!!
So – go to Lavendou and visit the Fort Worth Botanic Garden. We topped off our day with some Dickie’s ribs and okra. We had a bit of an adventure getting there which I’ll just skip over. The dangers of depending on Google and your GPS, but life was made for adventures, so stay tuned for more of them – here and there!
Now I am no stranger to Hop On/Hop Off tours. I’ve enjoyed them in other towns. I know it’s a little touristy, but the concept has worked for me many times. This time it did not. In fact, it was the biggest mistake I made on this vacation. It wasted my time, it wasted my money and it used up good will with my husband. Three strikes and you are out!!
Perhaps I look perky in the photo, because I was asleep by 9:45 the night before and stayed in bed until 8 AM. That’s not my usual routine, but I wasn’t quite over a nasty cold. The early wake-up call in the wee hours of the morning resulted in early to-bed. We had a Mickey D’s breakfast and were waiting at the stop at the appointed time.
Someone else was at the stop, too and who gave us a glimpse at the dark side of Sin City. A very drunk lady perched herself at the Big Bus stop and began to inventory the empty bottles in her shopping bag. The Big Bus attendant, there to collect our tickets, gently suggested she had to go elsewhere. She put her bottles back in her bag and careened down the sidewalk. Though we didn’t realize it at the time, abouta block away, she had fallen in a heap. As our bus arrived we noticed a flurry of activity up the street as an ambulance pulled up. Driving by on the bus, we realized it was the lady with all the empty bottles in her bag.
Touring at Its Worst
I like the Hop On/Hop Off concept, because you get both a form of transportation and a guided tour in one purchase. I had visions of riding up top with scads of excited tourists, taking in the sights of the Strip while a well-informed guide filled me in on all the secrets. Not exactly what happened.
Looking at the sunny picture above, you’d think it was a perfect day for a double decker bus tour, but there’s a reason I have on so much gear. It was cold! As we waited for the bus to arrive, the sun went behind some clouds and was not seen again that day. Before we’d gotten to the next stop, the weather had deteriorated further and it began to sprinkle.
As I said, it was damned cold, there was precipitation and we were the only people on the bus, but our idiot guide insisted that we would be making the most of our travel investment by riding in the open air. Nope, that’s wasn’t going to happen.
The scintillating secrets shared by our guide sounded something like this, “Ok, there’s Harrah’s and across the street is The Mirage. Now we’re coming up on the Venetian with the Palazzo Towers. Over there is Treasure Island and now we’re coming up on the Wynn…” And no it didn’t get any better.
At the Convention Center we picked up a lady, but I’m convinced she was the bus driver’s wife. She rode for a few stops and then got off at one of the hotels, where I think she worked. She had on a uniform and she certainly wasn’t a tourist.
We passed the Strat and the Bonneville Transit Center. So far we hadn’t seen or learned anything new. Up around Fremont a few people got on, but they were soon getting off again. It continued to be me, Bill, the bus driver and the guide. I was beginning to believe the guide was operating in an altered state and I don’t think it was alcohol.
As we made the loop near Fremont and headed back toward the Strip, we started to get the same dialog he’d given us before, but in reverse, “The tall building on the side of the bus is the Strat. Now we’re coming up to the Sahara and over there is Circus, Circus…”
We Escape the Big Bus Tour
At Treasure Island, Bill had reached his limit. We got off and attempted a walking tour led by ourselves. I’ve got to hand it to my husband. Bill really was trying to be cooperative, but I was just pissed off, damp and hungry. We wandered around the Grand Canal and visited galleries and shops – a few of which I’ve included for your viewing pleasure.
We were both hungry, but nothing we saw looked the least bit interesting. So ,we went into the Venetian and ate at The Grand Lux – a restaurant we have in Dallas. I opted for Chicken Alfredo and drowned my sorrows in one of my favorite comfort foods.
Waiting for the Deuce
Refreshed we went over to the bus stop at the Mirage to return to our part of the Strip. The Deuce was obviously not on schedule, but once we boarded the bus we got a taste of just how off schedule it was. We could have easily gotten to Paris faster if we’d walked, but the rain was pouring outside. Eventually, we discovered a car had turned over in front of the Bellagio and the entire Strip was in chaos.
It was still early evening with all of Las Vegas waiting for us. I’d planned for us to take the nighttime Big Bus, a part of the package we’d purchased and supposedly a real neon treat, but you could not have paid either of us enough money to get back on a bus, especially not a Big Bus. We went back to the room and I went directly to bed – again. I found out the next morning Bill did a little exploring on his own while I slept, but none of it sounded very exciting. There’s a reason Vegas was not at the top of my vacation wish list.
Day 3 was a lot better, so it’s safe to come back and check in with me next week!
You know how it is when you’re visiting a restaurant you’ve enjoyed before and it ain’t what it used to be? That was my experience on Saturday morning at Breadloserswinners in NorthPark.
NorthPark itself is one of my very favorite places in the world. I go there to feel like a Dallasite. I parked in the Nordstrom’s parking lot and used their sleek Ladies Lounge. As I looked at the merchandise facing the aisles along my route, I felt like it was deja vu all over again! Didn’t I wear these very same fashions a few decades ago – eggplant colored mix and match ready-to-wear, cream colored crepe blouses with a high ruffled neck and prairie dresses. I guess shoulder pads and pleated trousers are next.
On my way to the restaurant I strolled along browsing the windows of a few stores. I always love the unusual clothing for sale at Free People and think I’ll stop in. Then I see the outfits they put together for display and am amazed they find ways to take these beautiful pieces and put them together in awful outfits I would never wear. Obviously, I am not their target audience. The next stop was Nā Hōkū, the Hawaiian jewelry store, and I always want everything in their windows.
Next I began to enjoy the aromas of NorthPark, like Lush with it’s hand made fragrances and pretzel’s in the oven at Auntie Anne’s. Being in my favorite mall excites all of my senses.
Entering the Main Court always feels like a special moment and I am flooded with memories of events, occasions and everyday visits to NorthPark. Riding down the elevator, I see Zara and am reminded of the very first time I saw one of their stores, in Vienna’s Stephenplatz. While I love NorthPark for being so Dallas, I also love that it also a touchstone for the rest of the world. Peeking in Zara, I saw emerald low-heeled pumps with a rhinestone buckle. Yes, the past is getting closer all the time.
I arrived at Breadwinners and the hostess is going through the is-your-entire-party-here routine with someone in front of me. I guess they have to do that, but I hate it. I’m not sure my friend, Lisa, has arrived, but I ask for a table for two without being quizzed about the rest of my party. Soon I’m being seated and almost immediately Lisa arrives with two kiddos in tow, but they are way too cool to be seated with us and wait for another table.
By the time I have been given a menu, I have been warned numerous times their fryer is broken and I can’t have any fried food. It wasn’t what I was there for, but other disappointments were awaiting me – like my drink order. Since being at NorthPark is always an occasion, I ordered a poinsettia, my own answer to mimosa, because I don’t like orange juice. I can’t decide if the poinsettia they delivered was made with flat champagne or white wine, but it was not what I had been anticipating.
For brunch I ordered their Basic Breakfast with grits and sausage. I LOVE grits and have had theirs before. Whatever they were offering up that day was not what I had in the past. There was either too much of something or something which wasn’t supposed to be there, but they were inedible. On to the biscuit! Well, they hadn’t kept that in the oven long enough to brown it and while it wasn’t necessarily undercooked, it also fell apart, so getting butter on it was a challenge. The consolation prizes were a couple of overcooked sausages and thank goodness a pair of properly prepared well-done fried eggs. If the rest of it had been any good, I probably wouldn’t have even eaten the eggs, because they are one of my least favorite foods, but with little else to feed me, I needed the protein.
I only see Lisa a few times a year, so it really doesn’t matter what we’re eating, I’m just glad to be soaking up her world. She’s a mommy in Highland Park and that’s so different than how I live, that I find it fascinating. Her daughter, who I’ve known since infancy, is now a pre-teen and talk about a different world!! She and her friend were dressed alike in neon colored shorts and gray tee’s. I know these are all the rage, but when I was her age you couldn’t have paid me enough money to go out dressed like that, much less to be twinsies with my friend.
As Lisa shared the recent dramas in her daughter’s lives I was struck with the similarities between the stories she was telling and a TV show I’d seen recently – Big Little Lies with Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Laura Dern and Meryl Streep. I want you to know, the stories are real. Yes, it’s a fictional series, but the situations they portray are happening right now in Highland Park!! I’m not recommending Big Little Lies. It’s my husband who is watching it and I have only viewed a few episodes – enough to find it disturbing. However, as wacky as it is, it is apparently an accurate picture of life in affluent schools and neighborhoods in America.
The Rest of It
Friday, we visited the new Heritage Plaza Building in downtown Mesquite. We used the facility as a backdrop for a photo shoot photos, but I was impressed with the architecture and what Downtown Mesquite is up to.
Saturday night we went to a birthday party for my bestie at another friend’s house. It was great to celebrate Deb’s birthday and renew my acquaintances with some of her other friends. They put on a good spread and it was an enjoyable time.
There was church on Sunday morning and that afternoon I did one of my favorite things. I delivered a completed custom scrapbook to a client. It’s hard to believe you can actually get paid for doing what you love to do best and there’s always the pay off of pure joy when they see the album for the first time.
Given the opportunity to do this whole trip again, instead of suggesting we stay at Paris, I would have suggested one of the newer, cooler places, like Aria. Like Paris, it’s right in the middle of The Strip, but unlike Paris it has a hip, edgy feel. Had Paris had the romantic Montmartre vibe it had when visited before, I would have been happier, instead it had become a sort of warehouse for slot machines with little to no atmosphere whatsoever in the lobby or our room for that matter.
Aria, Vdara and other newer hotels were where the cool kids were staying, but I’ve got to tell you, even there, where Rolex watches and flashy diamonds were the moda, everybody was still so casual I wanted to scream. I get it if you don’t want to be required to wear haute couture gowns every time you walk out of the room, but I’d like it if you’d look like you were out of your room on purpose, instead of being caught out in your pajamas, lingerie or jeans you were about to give to Goodwill.
Even though Las Vegas ain’t what it used to be, I refused to succumb to the general atmosphere of uber-dressing-down. It was as if the worse you looked the more points you got. Keep your points. While I wore jeans during the day, at night I dressed up and I had more fun that way. I’ll be so glad when sloppy becomes so yesterday.
Going Through the M Life Motions
All we really had to do to get to Aria is cross the street. The signs took us through the Crystals Shopping Opportunity, which was OK with us, because we wanted to see everything. This was our first real encounter with a plethora of exclusive high end designer shops, but by the end of the trip, they didn’t feel quite so exclusive, because they are virtually everywhere you look in Vegas. However, the high end prices remained the same.
Once inside Aria we were as awestruck as the next guy. They have got some amazing architectural touches throughout the public areas. We walked around with our mouths opened as we searched around for the M Life desk. The Aria M-Life personnel were ever so much more accommodating than the surly bunch down at The Mirage. I was allowed to feel more like the smart traveler I thought I was, instead of being the cheapskate the other guys’ behavior suggested.
Lemongrass – The Hidden Restaurant
There used to be a comedy routine about “the booth in the back in the corner in the dark.” That might be a good way to describe Lemongrass, except it wasn’t dark. You had to wander around a bit to find it, but once you did, it was a very attractive space, perhaps a bit crowded, but otherwise quite nice. The waitresses were dressed in Asian-flavored uniforms, which matched their ethnicity. While the menu was big, it was somewhat limited in this American’s opinion.
Along with being required to make a reservation, you were instructed to inform them you were using an M-Life award. Then when you arrived, you were required to remind the hostess about your M-Life status. I really think they should just stamp something across your forehead. That might be less humiliating than some of the hurdles they throw up. Just think, some guy sits in an office somewhere and it’s his job to make using the My Vegas Slots award so inconvenient and humiliating that people won’t use them. Perhaps his title is Discourager in Chief.
I never know what to order in a Thai restaurant. People rave about Thai food and how spicy it is, but every time I go to one I end up with something resembling milk-toast.I did a little better this time, but in truth, it was more like Kung Pao chicken than the spicy dish I hoped for. I think Bill felt much the same way, but at least the bogo meals didn’t break the bank.
And Now for the Really Big Shew
For all my efforts to see and do everything, sometimes the best things are serendipitous. After our meal we wandered around the hotels in the area for a while longer and then headed back to our hotel. Suddenly, people were running across our path and weaving in between cars. The Bellagio Fountain show was just beginning and we got to enjoy every bit of it. We hadn’t planned it that way. It was just the way things worked out.
Except for our thwarted coffee break and the run in with the kiosk, we’d booked a pretty good first day in Vegas. We arranged for reduced fare transportation throughout our stay, gotten our M-Life cards and enjoyed My Vegas Slots awards for lunch, a drink and dinner. So far, so good.
Day two was not quite as successful. Come back next week and find out why.
The plan was to meet my bestie for lunch after her dance lesson. When she called after the lesson, she was hungry for a burger and a beer. I named a couple of my favorite burgers in Rockwall and Rodeo Goat won the toss, because my favorite Rockwall burger joint, Well’s Cattle Co. doesn’t serve beer. They have amazing chocolate and coconut pies, which beat out a beer any day in my book, but it also doesn’t have the view Rodeo Goat does, so I couldn’t complain.
Before hubby left for a photo shoot that morning, he wondered where we were going for lunch, but we hadn’t planned that far in advance. So he called to let me know when he finished and tell me he was still interested in lunch with his two favorite girls. I told him his timing was perfect and to head to The Harbor.
Deborah got there before anyone and snagged a picnic table on the patio, overlooking Lake Ray Hubbard. I was next and suggested we start off with Cheese Fries. I told the guy there would be three of us and asked which size we should get. Apparently, there is just one size and it is gi-normous! We had enough for everyone on the patio – be warned.
Hubby showed up not long after the cheese fries arrived and even with all three of us working on them, we left a whole lot of them behind – in part, because we still wanted those burgers we came for. I shared a Bodacious Burger with Bill and Deb had the Blue Goat. The Bodacious Burger is sort of a delicious BBQ joint mess. Bill and I polished off it’s goodies, but left most of the bun behind. It was very good. Deb said the Blue Goat, with the Bleu Cheese was her favorite and would remain so. Bill and Deb washed their burgers down with beer, but Rodeo Goat has great margaritas, so I went that way.
Shopping Therapy
I am in the middle of creating a series of custom scrapbooks for a client who was a pageant girl and I needed some pageant-related stickers to jazz up my pages. Creative Memories, which is my go-to supplier, doesn’t have anything which is remotely pageant-related, so Deb and I hit the craft stores.
We first went to Jo-Ann’s, almost out of habit, because in the past we have bought truckloads of stickers and paper there. I am sad to say they are virtually out of the scrapbooking business. I lusted after the Cricut equipment a bit, but I am too cheap to buy it, so we headed to the next stop.
Hobby Lobby is definitely in the scrapbooking business, so it was next. They didn’t have pages of pageant-related stickers, either, but they had crown stickers and some teeny-bopper stuff that would do for Cinderella Girl and Junior Miss pageants. Of course, I didn’t stop there. Nobody can buy just one or two sticker packs!!
Then we went to Tuesday Morning, primarily because Deb just likes to go there, but they also have scrapbooking supplies, from time to time. I found a really cheap book of papers I decided I couldn’t live without. It had nothing to do with pageants, but some people do drugs – I do scrapbooking supplies.
A Quiet Sunday
I confess, I skipped church on Sunday. I needed to be at a family function at noon, so I would have only had time for Sunday School anyway. I decided to go easy on myself and play hooky for once, something I rarely do. The church did not fall down in my absence.
We went to a birthday lunch for our nephew. We have an odd sort of relationship with his in-laws – more like we are the parents, instead of the aunt and uncle. They are delightful people and we enjoy everyone on that side of the family, so while it may be weird to hang out at your nephew’s in-laws, it is a pleasure for us and we’ll be having Thanksgiving with them.
That evening Bill and I watched the new HBO movie, Moonfall. There is a star-studded cast which didn’t shine very brightly, except for John Bradley, playing a megastructurist (someone who believes aliens created and launched megastructures which are now planets, moons, etc.). He was the underdog no one believed, who ended up saving the world and he shone like the sun in the role. Halle Berry and Patrick Wilson did not. There was so much scientifically ridiculous about the movie that you just can’t take it seriously. The whole infrastructure of earth is being wiped away by mega-disasters caused by a moon out of orbit, but somehow their cellphones work – oh, and the moon’s gravitational pull which causing all that on earth somehow allows them to navigate into an opening on the surface of the moon. Un-huh, yeah.
And that, my friends, is that. Stay tuned. I’m continuing my Travel There series on Wednesdays and Memory-Keeping 101 on Thursdays!
In the days rolling up to our Vegas vacation, I was so devoted to earning awards on the My Vegas Slots app that I was skating on thin ice. I figured out the rhythm of the whole thing – how long you needed to wait for free chips, how long you could play a game until it got cold, how all the bonus games worked, even how long you could put it on auto-play without losing all your chips. Bill said he didn’t care how much I was winning. He just wanted to see his wife without her being distracted by her phone.
However, as we started to use my awards, my devotion to the games started to make more sense. After tackling the Bonneville Transit Station kiosk, we got on a bus headed back down the Strip and Bill began to freak out just a little bit. He was hungry and wanted to eat, but he was still in shock over his coffee experience.
I said, “I have a bogo deal at the Mirage. We buy a sandwich and get a free beer. I think we could share that and it would hold us over until dinner.”
“Well, what are we doing for dinner?” he asked.
“We can make reservations at Lemongrass over at the Aria. I have a bogo deal there, too.”
“What kind of food do they have?”
“Thai.”
“What’s Thai food?”
“Remember the place we went to for Stone’s birthday. It was Thai and you liked that.”
About that time The Deuce pulled up to the Mirage and we hopped out. As we got off the bus, Bill allowed that he had liked the food at that Thai restaurant, so my plan was a good one.
Using My Vegas Slots Awards
Here’s the thing about the My Vegas Slots Awards. You can’t just walk up to the place you have the award for and show them your phone or a coupon. First, you have to go to an M Life Desk, located in the various lobbies where the coupons are good and get an M Life Card.
And here’s the reason the MGM is perfectly happy to give you these awards. It’s at this point that most people think it’s too much of a hassle and never redeem their awards.
Not me. Bill and I marched into The Mirage, found the M Life desk and endured the obvious irritation of the clerk who apparently had more important things to do than issue M Life cards. But that’s just the first thing you have to do.
Once you have your M Life card, you have to redeem your reward. I had visions of redeeming all the rewards at once and using them as I had a need for them. Au Contrare! That’s not how this works. You can only redeem one award at a time and you have a limited period in which to use it. If we thought the lady was irritated about issuing the cards, that was nothing to her near dismay at being forced to give us a bogo coupon for their snack bar.
Scoring Goodies at The Mirage
The clever name of the snack bar at The Mirage is SNACKS. The burger we split was delicious and while it wasn’t free, there was more than enough to share. Washing it down with free beer certainly didn’t hurt. Bill’s liking my awards better all the time.
“What do we do now,” he wondered after we’d had our burger and enjoyed the huge Aquarium behind the registration desk – the Mirage’s free attraction. I pulled out a free drink award for The Still, a whiskey bar that had just opened for the day. I would give you a review of the Aquarium, but while we were in Vegas, they announced the Mirage was going to be torn down, so you couldn’t go see it anyway.
We went back to the M-Life desk, renewed our award for a coupon and headed over to The Still. Going through that rigmarole for every redemption was truly a hassle, but if they wanted to waste their personnel’s time on it, we could play that game with them.
We went to The Still, turned in our coupon for another beer, since our other option was whiskey and began to enjoy our vacation.
Back to Paris
After our free drink, we found the Deuce bus stop and caught the next one that came by. In minutes we were back at our hotel. I made the necessary reservations for Lemongrass. That’s another of the award tricks you have to watch. Some of the awards have very specific instructions about making reservations, including how far in advance you have to make the reservations. Those specifics kept us from ever using the awards for the Wolfgang Bar & Grill over at the MGM, but otherwise we were able to juggle the instructions and our patience with the hassle.
Come back next week and we’ll have some Thai food.
Since this is the month of Halloween, I thought I’d chat with you about cemeteries. Not all of them, just the ones I visit.
Decorating the cemetery is a job handed down to me by my mother. I guess it actually started with my grandmother, but mom’s the one who delegated it to me. My grandfather, Thomas Byron Mobley, was buried at Pecan Grove and I grew up going there with my mom, Ruth, and my grandmother, Lula Mae. They’d load up the car with hoes and rakes and pruning shears and we’d head off to do our duty.
I’ve never been one for yardwork, but the plot at Pecan Grove with one headstone, a pecan tree and a peony bush was a manageable job and besides, I wasn’t doing it by myself. I was with two of my favorite people in the world. We’d unload our tools at the corner of Pecos and Rhea in the historic old cemetery and go to work on making it look good. I got assignments like picking up limbs from the pecan trees or gathering up the trimmings from their pruning, while Ruth and Lula Mae would share stories from their memories. All in all, it was a great way to spend an afternoon.
As you can see from the picture, our plot has changed from those companionable days. The first change was the headstones. Aunt Tommie decided we needed to upgrade our look. New residents were going to be joining my grandfather and the government-provided headstone, for a veteran of the Spanish American War, wasn’t going to fit with her idea of what our plot should look like. So, she talked her sisters into donating to the cause and the ladies went to a stone mason to choose matching double headstones for Grandfather, Grandmother, Tommie and her husband.
I had no idea, at the time, why Mom did not join into this upgrade by getting a stone for she and my dad. I’d find out later, but the years after the upgrade were busy and my grandfather did get new neighbors. The peony bush was replaced by silk arrangements in the fancy marble urns, but the rest of the job stayed the same.
As our plot gained new residents, Mom’s cemetery job also grew, but Grandmother was no longer around and I was an adult, too busy for cemetery time. In Pecan Grove, Mom took on the responsibility of checking on Aunt Hiley’s grave, which was on the block catty-corner to my family. Then my Great Aunt Bird, Grandmother’s sister, started getting attention. In addition, we began to have family members buried at Ridgeview, which was just a few miles from Pecan Grove.
Then my mom, always a timid driver, started asking me to help her at the cemeteries, because she didn’t want to drive up to McKinney on her own. I somehow got attuned to the rhythm of job – keeping the headstones clean and changing the flowers with the season. Like the cemetery days with Grandmother, we’d share memories and usually we’d also share lunch.
About this time, my very favorite relative, Aunt Edie, was beginning to think about where she’d be buried. There was a bit of competition for that honor. She had two husbands buried in Temple, TX, but in truth, she was fairly happy being rid of both of them. Mom and I lobbied for her to be buried in Pecan Grove, with the family, but in the end, she decided to be buried next to her last husband. It was one of the three worst decisions she ever made, in my opinion. You might guess what the other two were.
A little more than a year after we buried Aunt Edie, my dad passed away and my mom was forced to make some decisions she hadn’t been willing to face before. The reason she hadn’t gotten a stone when they did the upgrade, was because she’d always held out hope that Edith would be with us. She had an idea of where she wanted Edith to rest and Mom wanted to be right next to her. Now, the remaining 10 spots in our plot had to be parceled out, without the option of Mom being buried next to Aunt Edie.
Grandfather had been first and of course, Grandmother rested next to him. My Aunt Tommie had scored the spot next to Grandmother (which Mom hated) and Tommie’s husband finished off that end. That left three on the front row and seven in the back, except that one of those on the front was taken up with a tree. That’s when I learned about the Battle of the Pecan Tree, which had never been mentioned to me in all of my life, in spite of the many times I’d picked up the “mess” the tree deposited on the plot.
When Grandfather died, Great Aunt Bird decided “Tom” needed a tree on his grave and dug up a small pecan tree to plant next to him. Lula Mae, thought a tree was OK, but she didn’t want a pecan, because they were too messy. The sisters argued ferociously about it and Lula Mae told Birdie she’d never talk to her again, if she planted that pecan tree on Tom’s grave. Well, Aunt Bird did plant that tree and, as far as I know, Grandmother never quit talking to her, but she also refused to let anybody dig up the tree, which I thought was the funniest part of the story.
Lula Mae and Aunt Bird were no longer around to put in their two cents worth, but we had to decide whether the tree would stay or go. Perversely, Ruth wouldn’t tell me where she wanted to be, nor would she tell me whether she wanted the tree to stay or not. So, I consulted the stone mason who would make the headstone and the manager of the cemetery. They both voted for the tree to go, so it went. With the tree gone, Mom decided she’d rest between her father and her husband, under a double headstone that matched the other two. That left a single grave next to my dad. Who knows who will be buried there!
In less than a year, Mom was laid down between the two men she had adored more than all others on earth. In all the years I’d been her cemetery chauffer, one message was repeated each time we visited the cemetery (as well as any other time she could work it into the conversation), when she was gone, I’d be in charge of the cemeteries and she knew I wouldn’t let her down.
I wouldn’t let her down for the world, but I’m not as faithful as she was. She provided new arrangements for all birthdays, for Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Decoration Day – in fact, it seemed as if we were up there once a month for some reason or another. I put out poinsettias (which she loved) for the holiday season, change the poinsettias for her birthday in January (usually tulips, peonies or roses – which she also loved), change them again for spring around my Dad’s birthday, then perhaps a couple of other times as the seasons, change and my life allows. Usually, I also get to Ridgeview, but I can’t put out flowers for my aunts and uncles there, because all of their fancy gravestones with the urn you can put up or down, now have their urns stuck in the down position. Yes, I need to do something about that.
However, I do one more thing Ruth never did. I also go up to Melissa and decorate my father’s family plot, in the cemetery there. Mom never did and she reluctantly stopped short of telling me not to.
During her last year, she was in the hospital or a physical rehab facility more than she was home. She let me know my cemetery duties had officially begun, but when I told after one trip up there, I’d also taken care of the Caves, her response was, “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” From Ruth this kindly-sounding phrase was in truth more of a demand like “DON’T DO THAT!” Her strength made me strong and I ignored her. I continue to ignore her and hit all three cemeteries as frequently as I can.
I have no idea why Mom was so strongly opposed to keeping the Cave family plot in good order and I am happy to leave that problem in the grave with her. I am the product of two families, not one.
The Rest of the Weekend
Not much else. I met my bestie for a late lunch, after I was through at the cemeteries. We ate at Brio’s, which is one of my favorite and most-often visited restaurants in the Metroplex. Had I not taken up all my words talking about cemeteries, I might compare it favorably to the Cheesecake Factory next to it and wonder why the Cheesecake Factory stays so much busier than Brio’s, but I’m already over my word count. After lunch we did a little shopping therapy at the Allen Outlet Mall, something else I could use up a whole bunch of words about – whining about the stores which are no longer there and the dismal things they call bargains today. Sunday I went to church and then the rain kept hubby and I in the house.
I hope you’ll have a great weekend and see me back here next week for another Weekend Report.
jane sadek 