The Hyphen House

Last year around this time, Eric and I started writing a "Houston List" of all the things/places we want to experience in Houston that we've never done. We rarely find ourselves with an unplanned Saturday afternoon, but this weekend we did so we finally made it to Rienzi.

The Rienzi center for European Decorative Arts has belonged to the Museum of Fine Arts Houston for ten years. It's a gorgeous mansion built in the 1950s in River Oaks on 4 plus acres of manicured grounds filled with the previous owners' extensive art collection. Our tour was led by a docent who has volunteered every Saturday for ten years and obviously loves the place. It's a glimpse into Houston high society and the life of some very generous philanthropists that contributed a great deal to the city.

My imagination always runs wild in places like this, wondering what it was like to live there. We imagined ourselves on the back porch sipping wine whilst overlooking the bayou. We envisioned throwing a killer party in the "ooh, ah" room, but I'm not sure I would have let anyone touch anything because it's all essentially priceless. I also wonder what it's like to be so rich you don't have a job, just hobbies, as the Mastersons did.

All in all it's worth the trip. The tour is an hour and it's cheap to get in, then you can walk around the grounds. Another Houston gem!

Photo Credit: www.museumdistrict.org

We live in the coolest and strangest neighborhood in Houston. It is a very artsy and diverse area. One of my first memorable neighborhood moments was standing in line at a local grocery store behind a man in spandex biker shorts, a businessman in a tie, and a mother with a stroller. That is a fairly typical experience. A few days ago, we had another strange neighborhood experience that was less typical but still very much in character with where we live.

Lauran was going to the local Wendy's for some Frosties. On the way home, she got rear-ended at a stop sign. She was okay, but her car was not. They pulled into a nearby gas station and waited for the police to arrive. Now the particular intersection where this occured happens to be the central hub of activity in the neighborhood. If it had been a weekend night, our experience would have been a thousand times weirder. Lauran called me, and I headed over immediately. As she was waiting for me, standing beside her obviously-wrecked car, a man rode up on a bike and asked her for money. This same guy has asked me for money at the very same gas station. I even watched the store manager chase him away with an automated warning message that he played over the loudspeakers outside. On one hand, I have to admire the guy's persistence.

When I pulled up, I parked in front of a homeless woman who began yelling at me. At least I think she was yelling at me. After a while, she got over it and started singing Elvis songs to us, notably "Love Me Tender" and "You Ain't Nothin' But a Houndog." We waited 30 minutes for the police officer. Fortunately, we were serenaded the entire time. The guy who hit Lauran was also very apologetic and kind. He seemed very distraught because he had never hit anyone before. After the whole incident, he thanked us for being so gracious, saying that we had restored his faith in humanity. That was a nice thing to hear at the end of a rough day.

The police officer finally showed up. He was very helpful and sorted things out fairly quickly. For a while we stood by his car as he filled out the accident report. During this time period, an acquaintance of ours pulled up and waved. We really can't go very far in the neighborhood without seeing someone we know, pretty cool in a city the size of Houston. A few minutes later, a middle-aged woman approached us (as we were standing by the police car clearly talking to the officer). She asked us if we knew where any good bars or clubs were in the area. I was a little surprised by the question, and off the top of my head, the only bars and clubs I could think of were the gay clubs just a couple blocks away. I just told her that the bars and clubs were not really our scene. Clearly, we had other things on our mind anyway. Shortly after this, the guy on the bike returned, but this time he left just as quickly as he saw the police car.

All in all, it was just a routine neighborhood experience in the world's weirdest neighborhood, but it is experiences like these that we treasure because they are so unique and memorable. It lightened a pretty crummy experience.

There's a park a few blocks from our home that I didn't notice for almost a year. I drive by it frequently, bike by it, walk by it, but it's so small I never saw it. I don't remember what finally caught my eye, but Eric and I walked there with Morgan a few weeks ago to check it out. It is seriously tiny, tucked between a long string of residential houses and centered around a beautiful oak tree. It's named after a woman called Peggy, which happens to be my grandmother's name. I have devised several possible storylines for the origins of this little park.

1) Peggy was a Houston conservationist on the board of the Hermann Park Conservancy at one time. She dedicated her community service to the preservation of green space in the city, and, in a gesture of good will, donated part of her land as a park.

2) Peggy and her husband fell in love under the oak tree. She was a free spirit who proved him wrong when he teased that she could not climb to the top. Back on the ground, he confessed his true feelings for her, and kissed her softly. Six months later he was drafted for service in the War, and their reverend conducted a small marriage ceremony under the tree. On the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary, he bought the land and established a park.

3) Peggy lived in the house adjacent to the small plot for most of her life. She never had children of her own, but housed several foster children and homeless mothers. She also held a weekly story hour on a blanket in the grass, where neighborhood children gathered in Saturday morning. When she died of illness, the neighbors took up a collection to honor her by the dedication of the park.

I'm continually formulating these stories, because I love the mystery. I could google her name, but I don't want to ruin it.

We love the Houston Zoo. We try to go pretty regularly, and we even have a few must see animals that we hurry to see when we first walk through the gate. In fact, we love the zoo so much that I have fantasized on more than one occasion about quitting my job and training to become a zoo keeper.

Last night, the Houston Zoo hosted its annual Zoobilee, and of course, we went. Many of the trainers were out to talk about the animals, and there were games and fun activities for kids. We even got some free animal crackers.

We went to see the elephants first (as we always do). The trainer was there talking about the new elephants and their behaviors. We have met the elephant trainers before, but we always relish the opportunity of hearing every detail of the elephants' lives, especially the new baby Tuck and the expectant mother Shanti. Incidentally, elephants gestate for two years - yes, two years, followed by the birth of a 300 pound calf!

We also got to see the cheetahs fetch balls. The cheetahs are in my top five (along with the sea lions, elephants, orangutans, and sea turtles). The new "world's cutest animal" has just arrived, so we got to see him too. He is a red panda named Toby, and he is indeed very cute. They are trying to find him a mate, so they can have the "world's cutest baby animals." The other highlight of our time at the zoobilee was of course the sea lion show, my personal favorite. The sea lion reminds me so much of our dog. She knows how to do many tricks, but sometimes she lacks the focus to do them and instead gives the trainer the just-give-me-a-treat-already face that our dog so frequently gives us.

I was thinking today about what my display would look like if I lived at the zoo. First, I would be listed as a thriving species, not endangered like the orangutans. There would be information about my diet (In the wild, EKH normally eats vegetables, roasted animals, and large amounts of chemical preservatives and artificials flavors.) and my reproductive habits (You thought I was just going to give that away without you paying admission?). There would be a map showing my normal habitat range (anywhere with decent weather and a vibrant urban life). There would also be a chart of my most notable adaptations (opposable thumbs, bipedalism, the ability to reason, and the ability to play dead when his head touches a pillow). People would come and take pictures of me and comment on everything I did:

"Mom, look! He's checking his e-mail."
"He eats so fast!"
"Why is he always asleep when we come?"

When I boil my life down to zoo facts, it seems pretty awesome. I think that is probably why I like hearing the trainers talk about the animals. They have a relationship with them. They tell you about all the things a "Wikipedia" page won't. Up close like that, these animals don't seem much different than me, except they are a lot less shy about using public restrooms.