I’m not sure I understand the competition to come up with the next best fried thing, and I’m not here to judge (I’m responsible for my extra poundage – no one else), but every year, when the State Fair of Texas announces its list of fried food finalists, my ears perk up. I am excited to know what’s being tossed into the vat next.

"Corny" dogs, like these shown during an eating contest, make a regular appearance on State Fair of Texas concession menus. (Photo courtesy State Fair of Texas)

They never disappoint, at least not in terms of generating a buzz. So in case you didn’t get the memo, let me share the menu.

This year, you’ll get ID’d if you order items like Deep-Fried Frozen Margarita or Fried Beer. Like the Fried Coke or Fried Butter before them, that just seems to defy some scientific law, but I’ll admit I’m ready for the lines to open up for a frozen margarita. While waiting in line, I’ll ponder the difference between “fried” and “deep-fried.”

The Deep-Fried Frozen Margarita is born of the goodness of two things – margarita ingredients and funnel cake batter. They are mixed together, fried, dusted with a lemon-lime mixture and served in a salt-rimmed glass. While probably not as refreshing as the real thing, it sounds pretty good to me.

The Fried Beer is a beer-filled pretzel pocket. I’m not a fan of beer, so someone else will have to vouch for this later. I hear the beer really does pour out when you take a bite.

Again, don’t forget your ID. You will get carded for these – even though, I’m pretty sure the alcohol disappears somewhere in the frying process.

As a bona fide lemon addict, I’ll need to order the Fried Lemonade, a baked lemon-flavored pastry that is then fried and glazed with a mix of lemonade, powdered sugar and lemon zest. I’ll probably seek out fresh lemonade to wash this down with, and be in citrus heaven.

For chocolate lovers, there is, of course, Fried Chocolate, a white chocolate candy bar and a cherry are stuffed inside a brownie, dipped in chocolate cake batter, deep fried and topped off with powdered sugar, a cherry sauce and chocolate whipped cream. I might have called it Fried Cherry Cordial, but alas, once again they did not call for my opinion. *insert audible gasp here* Just kidding. Well see, though, if that shows up on the menu next year. Remember, you heard it here first! Ha! Oh boy, do I have all kinds of GREAT ideas for next year!

There also is the Deep-Fried S’mores Pop Tart, which is pretty self-explanatory. A s’mores flavored Pop Tart is battered, fried and then topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I’d like to put this to the test with my friend Kate who lights up her fire pit at home as often as she can to feed her s’mores cravings.

For something more savory, traditional and Texan, they’re promising Texas Fried Frito Pie. Not sure how, but they are apparently able to hold together the chili, cheese and Fritos long enough to fry it. It’s a mystery to me, but the item made it as a finalist, so it can be done. Amazing what a little human will and ingenuity can achieve. Speaking of: Look for Texas Fried Caviar –– fried and seasoned black-eyed peas. Whodathunkit? Someone thought of it.

And finally, for you health nuts … oh, wait … nevermind. This salad is fried, too. Fernie’s Fried Club Salad is a spinach wrap stuffed with the goodness of diced ham, chicken, shredded lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, cheese and bacon. Sounds good, but wait, I’m not finished. It’s fried, topped with deep-fried sour dough croutons on a stick and then served on a bed of lettuce. Well, at least you can still say you had the “salad,” if anyone asks.

So there you have it. Don’t try them all in one sitting, or it’ll be “groan” appétit instead of bon appétit. Pace yourself. You’ll have 20-something days to get it all in. The State Fair of Texas runs from Sept. 24-Oct. 17.

Winter wonderlands are hardly cliché in Texas.

Snow-covered steps to the Texas Travel Information Center in Denison. Submitted by Center Supervisor Robbie Dudley.

That’s why drivers freak out when the flurries start to fall. We don’t know how to drive (or walk!) in icy or snowy conditions. Northerners like to laugh when us southerners become incapacitated by the weather, but that’s like a teen laughing at a baby for not walking more gracefully. They get a LOT more practice with it than we do, so for us, it’s still new.

But despite all that taunting, we have something they don’t when it comes to snow –– a child-like awe when even the slightest flake falls. It’s still magical to us. Or at least more magical.

This week, friends across the state had the chance to experience the snow. Texas Department of Transportation’s Travel Services Section has 12 travel information centers at various entry points across the state. Our friends at the Texarkana, Waskom and Denison travel information centers shared some of their snow photos and stories, so I thought I’d share.

Chilly day at the Texas Travel Information Center in Texarkana. Submitted by Linda Vaughan.

Waskom travel counselors made use of the ice melt they had on hand and made their own shovels (not like snow shovels are easy to find in Texas!).

“Most travelers enjoyed the snow and someone made a snowman on our grounds,” says Waskom travel counselor Donna Watson.

Even in our glee, we understand that snow comes with some inconveniences, too.

Waskom Travel Information Center Supervisor Melissa Wilson says, “Some of my employees didn’t have electricity at their homes. They had to fix their ‘Texas hair’ at the center.”

Wilson added, “We’ve had several Winter Texans say they left their homes, up north, to come to Texas, so they could get away from the snow.” One Winter Texan said, “It must have followed them from Pennsylvania.”

For that, we’re (sort of) grateful.

Snowy day at the Texas Travel Information Center in Waskom. Photo by Melissa Wilson.

By the way, if you have not visited a Texas Travel Information Center, please make a point to stop by. They are informational havens –– with sophisticated, and locally-inspired architectural designs –– that serve the traveling public. The travel information centers also just happen to be staffed by some of Texas’ best ambassadors.

You can find a list of Texas Travel Information Centers here.

While children get to have special mail that’s postmarked from the North Pole, lovers can look forward to sending their sweetheart a valentine postmarked and stamped from Valentine (Texas, that is)? More than a dozen post offices across the United States –– including Valentine, Texas –– offer special postmarks for the lovely occasion, to help impress your loved ones. This special touch is easy as pie to achieve, and the effort could yield priceless benefits.

Simply place your pre-stamped and addressed valentine(s) in a Priority or Express Mail envelope or box and mail it to:

Postmaster: Maria Carrasco

Valentine Re-mailing

Valentine, TX 79854

Once received, each outgoing letter/package will receive a special Valentine cancellation stamp and will be mailed off to recipients. High school students compete each year in a contest to determine the year’s cancellation stamp.

Sending it off sooner is better, of course, but it is suggested that the package to be re-mailed should be received in Valentine by Feb. 10 to help ensure a Feb. 14 delivery. If you’re a procrastinator, take note that you might be in the last-minute bag with other procrastinators. According to the USPS, Valentine’s Love Station hand-stamped a record 39,000 pieces of mail from across the globe with the Valentine postmark in 1994. On average, the postmaster handles approximately 100 cards and letters a day. Two weeks before Valentine’s Day, that number jumps to as much as 2,000 a day.

Visit www.usps.com to get ZIP codes for other cities offering a special postmarking, such as Heart Butte, Mont.; Loveland, Colo.; Loveville, Md.; Loving, N. Mex.; Romance, Ariz.; Romeo, Mich.; Juliet, Ga.; Bliss, N.Y.; Sugar City, Colo.; and Valentine in Nebraska or Virginia.

Everything’s big in Texas, in fact, Texas is so big, it’s gone global  Or so it’s been pointed out in a Facebook thread that started with “Good morning, Texas!”

New Mexico and Australia chimed in - “What about us?!” To which we replied with the simple truth: “If you love Texas, you ARE Texas.”  That good morning goes a long way. That’s how Texas rolls.:)

So now, I’m curious where, in the world, are you if you’re not living in Texas now?  Did you use to live here? Just wish you could live here? What is it you love so much about it?

Share, please.

The January issue of Texas Highways includes a feature about the oddball attractions of sophisticated Houston. As a native Houstonian, I enjoy recalling those quirky sites. Of course, I’m living in Austin now, where, luckily, there’s no dearth of “quirky” here.

Still, the Houston feature brought to mind a particularly oddball moment, in relation to one of the noted attractions – sculptor David Adickes’ Sculpturworx Studios.

Adickes is known for the giant Sam Houston sculpture in Huntsville and other creations like “The Virtuoso” sculpture in front of the Lyric Centre building in Houston’s Theater District. It wasn’t until I had an office in the Lyric Centre that I realized there’s actual music coming from “The Virtuoso.” It’s impressive, but I digress.

One year, I was invited to a party called The Big Head Ball, hosted by Adickes. I didn’t know if I should expect huge egos, but the buzz was that it would be a blast … and it was.

On my way into the party, held at his Sculpturworx Studio, there was a woman outside, doing a balancing act atop a white horse. She was dressed in a green,  grass suit and hat, welcoming guests and looking like a Magritte painting in action. I knew I was in for a fun evening.

The studio, nestled in an unassuming and drab section of warehouses, was a large space lined, along the walls and in random spaces, with the big head sculptures in various stages of completion – all still much taller than me. I was fascinated to see the progressive stages of Adickes’ works – especially since his looming Sam Houston statue was an integral part of the Texas landscape for me. It was a key landmark in my family’s travels as I was growing up. Isn’t it for everyone who drives that way?

The setting itself was surreal. Now, on to the guests!

This Big Head Ball turned out to be an opportunity for guests to don whatever whacky or big head they could. I saw huge hats, masquerade masks, scary and funny heads, even Jack-in-the-Box “CEO” Jack. So much creativity played out in those above-the-shoulders costumes. The tables were decorated with skulls and assorted representations of heads. The woman in the grass suit, now inside, doled out performance art for us––running in place, flailing arms and moving along with her projected video prop––all to the sounds of Laurie Anderson. Again, I thought of Magritte.

The rest of the details from that evening have since faded, and I don’t know if Adickes does that party still, but it was certainly an experience, and one of my favorite odd nights in Houston.

Even though his studio isn’t open to the public, it’s still worth it to drive by and take a gander at those giant heads. The next time I do,  I can say, “I partied with those guys, once.”

Since I moved from Houston – and an office smack dab in the middle of the city’s incredible Theater District – I have to admit that I’ve been woefully neglectful of taking in as much live theater. I mean to, and I do miss going as often as I did. Lately, I’ve been getting back into the swing of things. I’ve seen a couple of touring musicals (“Wicked” and “Mama Mia”), enjoyed readings by the legendary Maya Angelou and the hilarious writer David Sedaris, as well as some local performances.

I forget, until I’m there, how important and good it feels to witness the art of live performance … of people entertaining people … sharing and communicating in music, dance, words, comedy and movement. This kind of creative expression, I believe, is inherent to our humanity. There’s nothing like it. The best thing is, no matter where you are –– big city or small town –– there are plenty of opportunities to take in a show.

It would do us good to get back to being better audiences –– in major performance halls, restored historic theaters, community halls and in wide open spaces under the great Texas sky.

So when you travel, or stay home, consider live performances as one of the options when asking, “So, what should we do today?”

What performance/venue would you suggest for your neck of the woods?

Every once in a blue moon, I lament the fact that I never went to summer camp as a kid (Vacation Bible School doesn’t count, but thank you, Jesus.). I did the outdoorsy thing for years with my Bluebird/Camp Fire Girls, but I later grew up to realize that the “big forest” – where we learned to pitch a tent, make fire and turn a coffee can into a stove – was really Bay Area Park in Clear Lake area of Houston. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely, wooded park next to Armand Bayou and I’ve canoed from there as an adult, but it’s not the wilderness. Maybe Hollywood images of summer camp (Friday the 13th aside!) makes me feel like I missed out on some real fun. It’s too late for me now (or is it?), but I want to live it out vicariously through our readers. Maybe I’ll get it out of my system. What is summer camp REALLY like? What kind of summer camps have you experienced? What are some of the top choices in Texas where you might consider sending your own children? I’d love to know.

Blessed day, as it is, the Easter memory that I always enjoy recalling involves a special Easter egg hunt at Bastrop State Park.
Mom asked if we wanted to go on an Easter egg hunt. What kid says “no” to that? Even though we fully expected that a hunt would be in our plans that Sunday, we were jumping for joy, as if it were a surprise. I was already imagining (and salivating over) the kind of treats we’d find hidden inside the eggs. Mom is very creative!
As we rode along –– empty baskets guarded carefully on our laps –– time passed and eventually we started chiming in with “Are we there yet?” We were still clinging to our excitement of the hunt, but a little put out that we still hadn’t reached our destination.

It turns out Mom thought it’d be nice to do the Easter egg hunt at Bastrop State Park. Did I mention we were living in Houston?

What a blast we had, though, and what a great idea Mom had!  After nabbing the hidden eggs, we just enjoyed the park, and the picnic mom had prepared for us. I absorbed, as much as I could, this rare sight of fresh air and greenery in such a vast amount of space. This atmosphere was as much a treat to me as the one time I had seen snow (at the time). I remember how beautiful this was to me and the sound of pine needles crunching underfoot. I remember the CCC cabin, too.

Ever the rockhound, I found a rock that I thought was utterly fabulous and brought it home. I have it still. It’s special because it reminds me of that perfect day. Anytime I visit or drive past Bastrop State Park, that memory resurfaces.

As an adult, I still appreciate Bastrop State Park and its beautiful trails. I also now better appreciate that my widowed mom made time –– though I can’t imagine how she found it (or the energy) –– to do this for us four kids.
The deep-seeded pleasure and the lasting fond memory of this road trip is true testament that one can never forget the value of a simple road trip and quality family time.

I’m terrified of heights, so naturally, I wanted to go on an adventure that would challenge that fear. Yes, I’m a little insane. But isn’t that the way to conquer fears? Well, I suppose a healthy fear is good for survival, but I found what I thought would be a safe way to face that fear head-on – ziplining. I highly recommend the experience.

After revisiting an article that we ran in Texas Highways last August, I decided that this was the year I would brave it. Luckily, one of my best friends in Houston had the same idea (always on the same wavelength … that’s why we’re buds). Within a week’s time, we drummed up a group of 10 friends (me in Austin, the rest from Houston) to visit the Cypress Valley Canopy Tours in Spicewood. What fun!

I put on my brave hat while shaking inside, but after the first leap, I was having a blast. You’re so securely harnessed in and connected to the zip line that it’s hard to truly feel vulnerable. Plus, our trusted guides, Lindsey and Andi, used their expertise and a bit of humor to take the edge off and make it fun.  Granted, this probably isn’t as high or as long as zipling down a mountain in Costa Rica, but it’s a fun adventure just the same. And it was just my speed, so to speak.

I didn’t even mind the three rope sky bridges we had to traverse (and I’ve never gotten on them, even at amusement parks, because I’m even more terrified of them!), but the harness helped quell that fear, too. We zipped along six lines from one tree platform to another (up to 40 feet high), passing up Lofthaven, the furnished tree house that you can zip to and rent for the night.

Thanks to the drought, there was little water running through the property, but I’m sure it adds an extra dimension of excitement and natural wonder, so, I definitely hope there will be water on my next visit.

When I go again – and I will – I will try the more challenging tour, which has longer zip lines, and challenges that they say ranges from “moderate to difficult.” I’m up for it!

If you’ve ever had a curiosity about ziplining, but are being held back by fear, I say DO it! If I can, you can.

If you’ve been, what was your experience like and where did you go?

May the luck of the Irish fall upon you this March. If you’re really lucky, you’ll get a chance to experience the St. Patrick’s Day Festival in Dublin, the Irish Capital of Texas. But, finding a St. Patrick’s Day celebration anywhere in the state won’t be difficult at all. Texans love to celebrate. Search our Events Calendar to see what’s going on.
For me, the St. Patrick’s Day celebration begins with this story that I tell to at least one person every year out of respect, and in honor, of a gentle Irish man named Bob Chase of Baytown.
Many, many years ago, I had just started working as a reporter for the Baytown Sun, when this petite ball of energy popped into the newsroom dressed in green from head to toe! He started dancing around like a leprechaun and singing Irish ditties. He even had a bit of a real Irish accent. I was dumbfounded. What was going on? Is this man sane? But everyone was enjoying it and, frankly, I was quite entertained, too.
When he left, I found out that it was a local named Bob Chase. Every year, he goes out to some places and does this just to bring a little joy to people.  I was a new fan.

During the year, I’d see him every once in a while, in his regular attire, usually doing some volunteer effort for his church. But when St. Patrick’s Day rolled around again, there he was with his joyful routine – peppered with Irish blessings. He always ended his 5- to 10-minute performance with a tip of his green hat and one particular Irish blessing that wished us all well.

March came around. A week before St. Patrick’s Day, his wife took the time to let people know that Bob was sick and in the hospital and wouldn’t be coming by this year. But when the day came, in popped Mr. Chase – this time with his wife, helping his frail frame into the room and standing guard as her weak and sickly husband attempted his routine. Despite her efforts, she said he insisted. Sick or not, he would not skip this. His heart was in every move, even if his body – still dressed in green from head to toe – wasn’t. He had our undivided attention and respect. I felt a profound admiration for Mr. Chase and was moved by the genuine beauty of his message from the heart –– even this abbreviated version of his routine.

Before he left, he finished with the same Irish blessing he always left with us.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields
and, until we meet again,
may God keep you in the palm of His hand.

The next day, I purchased a book of Irish blessings and had everyone sign it for Mr. Chase. His wife called me to say he loved it and it brought him great joy and meant a lot to him. I was glad we could bring him joy when he had given so much to us.

A few days later, he was gone. His wife came in to tell us. I learned that Mr. Chase’s outreach didn’t begin and end with St. Patrick’s Day. Every Sunday, before going to church, himself, he would take his Bible and have fellowship with those in jail.

To this day, I find comfort when I remember Mr. Chase’s friendly voice saying: “… until we meet again, may God keep you in the palm of His hand,” and in the spirit of Mr. Chase, I have honored my vow to share that blessing and carry on the message of joy and fellowship that he felt was so important.