I often try to dispel a little of the mythology attached to Texas for folks unfortunate enough to live elsewhere. I make sure they know I don't wear a cowboy hat or ride a horse. I don't have an accent, and I still haven't learned how to properly integrate the word y'all into my regular speech. Not all Texans are like the mental picture everyone has leftover from the TV show Dallas.
That's why this isn't helping:
In fact, we do not have our cattle walk about on hind legs, Animal Farm style, and we do not dress them in denim. Or western-wear. Or any clothes at all.
This is a heck of a welcome sign for Texas, though- a shop at the airport where you can buy western clothes and look just as slick as the cow-mannequin.
On a happier note, though, we had a great morning so far. Jeanne joined us for a quick breakfast at our house, then gave us a ride to the airport. We had printed boarding passes before we left the house, so when we arrived all we had to do was show those along with our passports, then the very friendly Air Canada employee checked in our luggage.
We even had an easy time of the TSA security check. Cas and I both forgot to pull out our little baggy of liquids. Nobody seemed to care. Overall, it was unusual. People were all pleasant, and nobody made us feel stressed, rushed or herded like cows in western wear.
We're off to Montreal with a short layover before the long haul to Athens. Should be pretty great. We'll be in Greece in the morning, which I think will be around 3am in my Central Daylight Time brain.
Here we go!
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