|Our exceedingly purple accommodations in Houston.|
In Houston, there were fauna . . .
|Yes, just as dumb as she looks as it turns out.|
|Alas, the laser eyes did not work as I'd hoped.|
It seems the primary reason for the visit was for The American to go through many boxes of old things and select a few worth keeping. These certainly were:
|They have games about me!|
Though I feel less certain about the quality of this:
|Where Mycroft got the "information" he fobbed off on Jim?|
And she evidently got credit for this at some point in her life:
|Proof the U.S. educational system is rot.|
Meanwhile, I suspect this may come in handy at some point:
And this book is called The Sherlock Holmes Scrapbook. Didn't even know I had one.
This is only a very few of the items we ended up cataloguing and shipping off. God, what a bore. Although I did find her old diaries quite amusing. (What, John? If she can read my scrapbook, I can read her diaries.)
The hotel in Austin was a marked contrast to the family home in Houston.
|Room 422 of the Driskill Hotel.|
I found a comfy chair . . .
. . . and John found the minibar.
|I wasn't the one daft enough to let him have the key.|
|Where are your hands, John?|
We were actually there for some kind of conference. She even cleaned herself up for it.
|I suppose we'll keep her. For now.|
|See! Learning stuff!|
|And of course John was chatting up girls again.|
We also walked along the shops on S. Congress and stopped to have a picture taken at an art installation.
|No idea what it's supposed to be.|
And we visited the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. Because John just can't get enough of flowers.
|Not much by way of flowers here, mind.|
|Ah, here. Asters.|
|And more asters.|
As it turns out, Jim got into quite a bit of trouble while we were away. But that's another story for another post.