Trip across the Pond

 

Another adventure.  Diane and I, winging our way across the Atlantic to the UK. I have already been thoroughly and properly chastised for referring to our destination as simply "England" or "Great Britain." To set the record straight, our itinerary is to land in London and connect immediately to Edinburg, Scotland (Edin-bra, apparently, if you want to sound like a local).

For the first time in our traveling history, we will be staying with friends. Aaron and Nicol are transplants from San Diego, California, and Nicol happens to be a former coworker from Diane’s days at the District Attorney’s Office.

Diane and I are transplants too, of course, but the universe loves a twist. By pure coincidence, Nicol grew up in The Colony, Texas—just a stone’s throw from our current home in Aubrey. Her parents still live there.

We rekindled our connection when Nicol mentioned that she and Aaron spend their Christmas vacations back in Texas. Naturally, we started meeting them for holiday breakfasts at Barney's Brunch House in Frisco, Texas. Over hot coffee and high stacks of pancakes, this wild, wonderful plan to visit Scotland was hatched.

Of course, with any great plan comes great responsibility. I was tasked with securing the airline reservations, accompanied by one terrifyingly non-negotiable caveat from my wife: it had to be Business Class, or no go.

Let me explain.

A while back, our very good friend Sara organized a “girls’ trip” to the UK. Neither her husband, Chad, nor I were even invited. Sara and Chad are world travelers who possess roughly a billion American Airlines miles. Sara booked the reservations, and off the ladies went into the wild blue yonder.

Luxury Monster Maker

Now, as American OneWorld members (yeah, OneWorld, one word), Chad and Sara belong to the hoi polloi—the elite high society of the skies. They receive the kind of airline treatment usually reserved for royalty. They are those enviable souls you see boarding first while you hover with the unwashed masses back in Group 10. They are already tucked into their private pods, sipping Champagne, while you are still back in row 42 negotiating armrest property rights with a Sumo wrestler.

But I digress.

During that fateful trip, Diane went totally goo-goo eyed over her comfortable digs up front. She pelted my phone with snapshots of her little slice of aviation heaven. Right then, I realized Sara had inadvertently created a luxury-loving monster (I think she's actually a First Class Recruiter for American). I could see the handwriting on the cubicle wall: we would be revisiting this high life soon enough.

Sure enough, as I gathered dates and times for our Scottish excursion, the second shoe dropped. “We” needed to secure Business Class seating for the eight-and-a-half-hour flight.

Now, I am neither a Luddite nor a Killjoy when it comes to my wife’s comfort. However, I like to think of myself as "thrifty"—a fiercely protective steward of our finances. I am a solid, proud Economy Class traveler. I am a man who willingly covets the modest lottery win of an expansive exit row.

Hey, I was a dedicated Spirit Airlines flyer back when they still had non-reclining plastic seats and no tray tables. (As of this writing, I was sad to hear Spirit filed for bankruptcy, proving that the world just isn't ready for such pure, unadulterated thriftiness).

My wife, however, is not a JetBlue flyer.

Add to this the immense pressure of the trip coinciding with our sixth wedding anniversary, and the financial stars were aligned against my wallet. To give you the Reader’s Digest version: when all the digital ink had dried, I had spent the equivalent of a new car down payment (maybe two) on airline tickets.

But oh, the magic that followed.

Suddenly, with our newfound notoriety, we were the elite. We marched into DFW airport to join our fellow "Priority Members" at the American Desk. No self-check-in kiosks for us. No sir. We bypassed the Commoner queues and strode straight to the front of the line at Priority Check-In.

A delightful agent checked our passports. A gentleman hoisted our heavy luggage onto the scale, tagged them with neon "Priority" tape, and gently laid them on the conveyor belt as if they were fragile glass. We were ushered into the TSA Priority Screening line, bypassing the endless sea of humanity, and pointed directly toward the American Airlines Admirals Club.

Because we were flying International Business Class, we were wined and dined at a well-stocked buffet brimming with finger sandwiches, hot soups, and fresh sushi.

At the appointed time, we reached our gate just as "Priority Boarding" echoed over the loudspeaker. Group One! Listen, if you’ve ever stood in a chaotic, cattle-call line for Southwest, you know how massive that feels. We boarded right on the heels of the first-class flyers and those needing extra assistance—the people I have spent a lifetime secretly envying from afar.

We walked down the winding jet bridge, stepped into the vast expanse of our Boeing 787, and turned left into Business Class.

It was a wonderland. The cabin featured cute little private cubicles arranged four across, squeezed in right next to three—count 'em, three—restrooms dedicated just to our exclusive domain. A flight attendant immediately set upon us, passing out glasses of real Champagne (I could tell...there were real bubbles) while we stowed our bags.

The window DIMMED, no pull down

The cubicles were slightly larger than a vintage phone booth (I know, I'm dating myself, but it's an apt description). Waiting for us was a set of quilted sheets to lay over our convertible seat-bed, a plush pillow, a designer amenity kit, and even a pair of cozy socks and slippers we actually got to keep. We had flat-screen TVs to watch movies and noise-canceling Bang & Olufsen headphones. And I must say, the food was exceptional. Simply amazing.

And now, the epilogue.

In the midst of all that excess and exceptionalism, lying flat at 35,000 feet, I felt a little off. We are not wealthy by any means. In our retirement, we are blessed with a decent standard of living and are very comfortable. But we both came from humble beginnings.

To this day, I suffer from a sort of financial PTSD from my childhood. My dad worked incredibly hard to bring home the bacon, and my mom was a dedicated homemaker who cared for us the best she could. You got a present or two under the tree at Christmas, and that was it—A Christmas Story (1983) was practically a documentary of my childhood home.

I thoroughly enjoyed the luxury and the pampered surroundings for those nine hours in the air. Yet, as I lay perfectly flat on my sky-bed, sipping bubbles above the clouds, I couldn’t help but wonder what better, more practical use we could have found for all that money.

I know, I know... what a Killjoy. But hey, at least I looked stylish doing it.

The Great Texas Snowmageden 2026 Day 2

 

Or watch the video: Texas Snowmageden 2026 Day 2

It's January 25th, 2026 and North Texas is getting their fill of wintry weather. Our usual "cold spell:" has turned into drifts of real snow (actually more ice than snow). The temperature dipped into single digits overnight and a harsh wind blew out of the Northwest causing everything in sight to freeze solid.

The real test of our resilience will be in the thaw in the next couple of days in which any hidden pipe bursts hiding in the recesses of our walls and ceilings will come forth and make for a sad conclusion to the wonder of the rolling white drifts we have today.

The Great Texas Snowstorm of 2026

 The Texas Snomageden 2026 Video

 Texas Snowmageden 2026

Gaylord Texan's ICE! 2025

 Check out the video: The Gaylord Texan and ICE!

The Gaylord Texan Resort & Convention Center is a hotel and convention center opened in Grapevine, Texas on April 2nd, 2004. It has 486,000 sq ft (45,200 m2) of meeting space and 1,814 guest rooms.

The Gaylord Texan is owned by Ryman Hospitality Properties, and operated by Marriott International. It is a sister hotel to the Gaylord Opryland Resort & Convention Center, Gaylord National Resort & Convention Center, and Gaylord Palms Resort & Convention Center.

Standing on the shores of Lake Grapevine, Gaylord Texan Resort & Convention Center guests get a one-of-a-kind experience. There’s a 10-acre Paradise Springs Water Park and lots of family-oriented activities for the entire family. Guests can explore the four-and-a-half acres of indoor garden atriums, four award-winning restaurants, bars, the world-class Spa and a state-of-the-art fitness center.

We’re here today to visit the hotel to see the annual ICE! holiday event. It changes every year and this years theme is the movie ELF! the character Buddy the Elf, played by Will Farrell in the 2003 movie.

But first we had to check out the decorations within the Atrium with the Texas Star hovering over us as we walked. And, of course, wander through all the shops surrounding the Atrium.

ICE! traces its roots to the early 2000s, when the Gaylord Hotels sought to create a signature Christmas attraction that would set its properties apart. Inspired by the Harbin Ice and Snow Festival in China, the ice carving capitol of the world. Gaylord began importing the artistry of Harbin’s master ice sculptors to the United States.

The first ICE! event debuted in 2001 at Gaylord Opryland in Nashville, and by the time the Gaylord Texan opened in 2004, the tradition was firmly established. Each year, a team of 40 artisans from Harbin, China travel to Grapevine to carve over two million pounds of ice into elaborate walk-through exhibits.

We get to suit up in Eskimo gear and wander through iconic scenes from the film brought to life in 6,700 blocks of hand-carved ice. There’s even a two-story ice slide for the brave at heart.

The Gaylord builds a giant covered tent, refrigerates it to 9 degrees. Sculptors, using their master sculpting skills passed down through generations, carve these amazing sculptures, creating the brightly colored sculptures for us to enjoy.

Special machines freeze water slowly from the bottom up, pushing air and impurities out to create crystal-clear, bubble-free ice blocks. Dyes or colored gels can be added to the water before freezing to create colored ice blocks for special effects. Sculptors start with large blocks, sometimes stacking and freezing them together, and they use chainsaws to cut out the basic shapes. Hand tools like chisels, ice picks, die grinders, and specialized bits are used for finer details. A blowtorch or heat gun is used to quickly melt the outer layer of snow and frost, creating a smooth, diamond-like shine. They go back in daily to touch up their creations.

We braved the cold to sample some beverages in the On-the-Blocks Ice Bar. We were served by a wonderful bundled up bartender who whipped up a “Banana Bread Pudding Old Fashioned” with a dash of flavored Whiskey that darned near tasted just like your Granma’s Bread Pudding. She even offered me a shot of Cinnamon flavored Whiskey in an ice shot glass. Definitely warmed us up. I asked how long she had to serve there. Thankfully, she said, they rotate out bartenders every hour. They had too; it was super cold and frostbite would be a real threat.

We were there in the middle of the week just before Christmas Break so it was easy going through the event. When you exit, you return your Eskimo suit and get dropped off into a giant Santa’s Shop of Christmas and ELF! themed merchandise. If you need some Christmas jammies or a tree ornament, this is the place to be.

There’s another giant slide for the kids and grownups and a food park to grab some munchies and hot chocolate.

All-in-all, a great day filled with fun, food, drink and Christmas cheer. A great way to get yourself in the mood for the holidays. We’ll be back again next year!

Road Trip to Lubbock, Texas

 

It’s a story of the Wind and the Plow

Lubbock YouTube Video

The story of Lubbock, the "Hub City" of the Texas South Plains, is a saga written in red dirt, marked by stubborn persistence, the whisper of the wind, and the transformative power of water and education. It begins not with a single stroke of genius, but with a competitive scramble on the open prairie.

In the late 1880s, the vast, semi-arid high plains of West Texas were home to powerful ranching operations. Civilization came tentatively, often driven by rivalry.

The settlement we know as Lubbock was born from the merger of two small, competing towns: Old Lubbock (named for Colonel Thomas Saltus Lubbock, a Confederate officer) and the nearby community of Monterey. In 1890, the two groups struck a deal, consolidating their resources and establishing the new county seat on a centrally agreed-upon tract of land.

Early Lubbock was a ranching service town. Cowmen drove their herds through, and businesses catered to the rugged life of the open range. The landscape was flat, the weather was unpredictable, and the future depended entirely on a single, crucial resource: the ability to tap the deep reserves of the Ogallala Aquifer (say THAT three times fast). The railroad finally arrived in 1909, linking Lubbock to the wider world.

The advent of the railroad and the revolutionary use of deep-well irrigation systems turned Lubbock from a cattle town into the undisputed capital of cotton. Farmers discovered that the region’s long, hot summers were perfect for the crop, and the sandy loam of the South Plains, when watered, yielded bountiful harvests.

Cotton quickly became King, driving massive population and economic growth. Lubbock became the primary shipping and processing point for one of the largest contiguous cotton-growing areas in the world.

Red Raider Mascot

However, the defining moment that guaranteed Lubbock’s long-term stability was the founding of Texas Technological College in 1923 (later Texas Tech University, Go Red Raiders). The establishment of this major state institution secured a permanent, intellectual, and economic anchor for the city, diversifying it far beyond the fortunes of agriculture. The institution grew alongside the city, providing a stream of engineers, educators, and doctors paving the way for the next phase of development.

World War two brought aviation to Lubbock. Gliders were used extensively in the invasion of Europe and many pilots and crews were trained in Lubbock. The Silent Wings Museum showcases this little known but important element of the Allies invasion of Europe.

The former South Plains Army Air Field site, now the Lubbock Municipal Airport, where 80 percent of pilots were trained, opened the Silent Wings Museum with the restored Waco CG-4A  glider as a centerpiece of the exhibits. 

The post-war boom solidified Lubbock's status as a regional medical and retail center. It survived major setbacks, most notably the Lubbock Tornado of 1970, a disaster that tore through the heart of downtown.

 May 11^th, 1970 was devastating for Lubbock. An F-5 dual Tornado, which     ravaged much of downtown and wiped out the near-by Guadalupe         neighborhood, killed 26 and injured over 1500. The path of the Lubbock     tornado was the subject of a detailed mapping carried out by Ted Fujita. It   was described as the "most detailed mapping ever done, up to that time, of   the path of a single tornado," becoming a seminal work in understanding the   relationship between tornado subvortices and extreme damage. The degrees   of damage wrought by the tornado also became the basis for the six tiers of   the Fujita tornado scale, which served as the standard for classifying   tornadoes until it was superseded by the Enhanced Fujita Scale in 2007.

 The memorial includes two flowing black granite-clad walls representing the two paths of the tornadoes. 

The community responded with resilience, clearing the rubble and engaging in significant urban renewal projects that ultimately modernized the downtown area.

The Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center has transformed the city into a medical destination for the South Plains. While cotton remains a vital part of Lubbocks identity, the economy has diversified into manufacturing, technology, and energy sectors, including the wind farms that dot the horizon.

Lubbock is also famous as the birthplace of rock 'n' roll pioneer Buddy Holly. The Buddy Holly Center and a Walk of Fame honor his legacy and that of other West Texas musicians.

Early on February 3, 1959, his plane crashed shortly after takeoff, killing Holly, Ritchie Valens, J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson, and the pilot, Roger Peterson. Buddy Holly was 22 years old. This event is known as "The Day the Music Died," as popularized by Don McLean's song "American Pie". 

For nearly a century, Lubbock was the largest "dry" city in the United States prohibiting the sale of alcohol. This changed in 1972 when the city allowed the sale and consumption of alcohol.

Interestingly, the city has also become a center for Texas wine, with the region accounting for 90% of the state's wine grape production.

 Let’s not forget a Lubbock icon, the Prairie Dog. Lubbock saw fit to honor the Prairie Dog with their own park and preserve. The cute little devils are everywhere around town and the ones at the park look well fed. Our guests learned they love broccoli so we scored some and fed them as we watched.

We stayed at the Hotel Elegante’ in Downtown Lubbock and steps away from the Tornado Memorial. Our hotel was nice but needed a remodel. You just can’t paint and expect it to brighten an old interior. The hotels sales pitch was that they had the “Comfiest Beds on the Planet”. I will say the beds were comfy.

And there were the meals we had. Dinner was at Bryan’s Steakhouse. Great steak and came with a baked potato and amazing salad bar. Reminded me of the old Pinnacle Peak in Santee, California without the hanging ties. Lunch was Triple J’s Chophouse. Huge menu and large portions. Breakfast was Lubbock’s Breakfast House and Grill. Old style restaurant feel with big portions and lots of coffee to fuel our trip home.

From its humble beginnings as a dusty crossroad, Lubbock has demonstrated a relentless ability to adapt, first by harnessing water, then by investing in education, and finally by rebuilding and diversifying. It remains a vital economic and cultural engine of West Texas, a testament to the pioneering spirit of its founders.

Harvest Festival 2025

 

Harvest Festival 2025

Harvest Festival Video Link

We live just a few blocks away so we mounted up and made the trek to the Common Area where our amenity center is located. Grandson Robert was being a good brother and held hands with his sister all the way. 

We live in Aubrey, Texas a gem of enduring Texas pride just north of Dallas. Once known as the “horse capital” of the state, the town still reflects its equestrian roots, even as it grows into a thriving destination. 

Fun fact: Originally called Onega, it was renamed Aubrey in 1881—its new name drawn from a hat in true Lone Star style.

Sandbrock Ranch is an HOA development which was actually a part of a working horse and cattle ranch. The developers still have land to the east of us and still have their horses and cattle there.

The Festival was well on its way with a DJ pushing music and Food trucks on the perimeter dishing up hot food and ice cream.

Many inflatable games were present for the kids from Axe throwing to shoot'em ups to a Maze.

The grandson even tried his hand at Bronc riding. He did not make the full 8 seconds.

There was this guy on stilts juggling too.

There were some vendors on hand selling real estate, jewelry, roof repair and some food and some beer and wine for the adults. We scored cake pops. 

While waiting in the really long face paint line, we picked up our HOA supplied resident pumpkin that the Grandson got to take home. 

As darkness approached, it was taking way too long in the Face paint line and with no relief in sight, as the sun set, we made our way back to our hacienda.

That's it for us, thanks for catching up with Rocks in My Sandals. We'll be back soon.

Sorry it took so long, YouTube held it back, they thought I had violated a Copyright...you'll know when you hear it.

The Great Texas Fly Over

The Great Texas Fly Over

On a return flight from San Diego to Dallas. A pretty good rain had fallen over the proceeding two days and I was surprised with a clear Pristine sky out my window where the bright blue sky touched the plains over West Texas. The view was amazing.

I realized I was seeing, what many probably had not seen or noticed as these preoccupied passengers flew between their destinations.

As we crossed into Texas at El Paso, the vast plains of west Texas rolled by beneath us. For miles we saw, like little points of light, what seemed like thousands of oil well sites as far as the eye could see.

 Some working, some not working and many abandoned sites with perfectly straight strings of dirt roadways like ant tracks connecting them where the gas and oil was being pulled from the earth beneath us.

 As we moved farther east, I could see many of these former sites were now being occupied by Wind Turbines lazily turning in the always persistent West Texas wind.

 Then the tan scrub land melded into the more greener  crop circles, farms and ranches stretching from horizon to horizon.

 They then coalesced into small towns and farms some being pushed aside with the new home developments that were popping up all over Texas.

 The land then became more populous giving way to the bustling highways, buildings and businesses of the Metroplex.

 Then just as suddenly, we were back to Dallas and Love Field and my return home.

Thanks for watching Rocks in my Sandals.