Here's what I've noticed. 

My post have three, maybe four, distinct themes: waltzing down memory lane, kvetching about MS, professional type topics, or religion.  The last two sort of go together, so it's really just three.  Oh yeah, I get political sometimes, too but not very often.

Since it continues to be a major deep freeze right now, I think I will stick with memories of warm climates.

My mom clarified that New Orleans and Texas/Mexico were, indeed, one trip.  In New Orleans we stayed with my Dad's cousin, John and his family.  Relationship-wise, that makes him my first cousin once removed, and his kids, James and Christa are my second cousins.  There''s a lesson in familial relationships for ya!

I'm pretty sure James was a toddler and Christa was an infant,  I remember John's wife, Beth, pushing a baby carriage, so someone was an infant!  Beth was so beautiful to me.  John was a professor at Tulane at the time, and they lived in a beautiful walk-up brownstone-y apartment (my memory may completely off here.)  I thought they were the epitome of cool!  I remember that we bought a boatload of gulf shrimp for dinner, and I think we had enough for everyone to have a whole pound to themselves!  I'm sure that was the only time I got completely stuffed after just eating steamed shrimp!

I'm not sure how long we stayed, but it was long enough to have breakfast at Brennan's.   I had something call eggs sardou  (according to the Brennna's menu that is:  crispy artichokes, Parmesan creamed spinach, choron sauce)   Even though it was breakfast,we had banana's foster for dessert.  Boy that make me want to steal the cookbook my mom brought back and I'm sure she still has somewhere. ( Watch your cookbook shelf next time I visit, Mom!)

I also remember Bourbon Street.  While I remember trying to divert my gaze from the debauchery of naked girls swing from the upstairs windows, I mostly remember that I found a little shop that was playing the soundtrack to the Wizard of Oz!  The shop clerks must have thought I was a weird , white girl shop-lifter or something, because I just wanted to hang out in the store and listen to Dorothy and friends made their way down the Yellow Brick Road!

After new Orleans, we went to Texas.  We went to Brownsville where my dad grew up.  People there called my dad "little Bobbie " even though he is now 6'5".  From Brownsville we made a quick hop to Mexico for just a few hours. It was very touristy there and we shopped a bit then ate lunch.  You know how the water quality is just a little suspect in Mexico?  My dad insisted that the restaurants that catered to tourists probably had water that was just fine, so I didn't hesitate to drink away.  I thought the waiter looked a little surprised to see this very obviously Caucasian family asking for more agua.  I don't know how long it took, but I know we were at a museum when it hit me.  I spent a whole lot more time seeing the bathroom than anything cultural.  My dad insisted that is was all the fresh oranges we had been eating that were wrecking havoc with our systems.

Going through the border check coming back to Texas also sticks with me.  My sister and I had bought some marionette puppets.  One of them was a mustachioed mariachi player.  I kept singing the Frito bandidto jingle (which I am sure was suspiciously racist, but it was the 70's and we were from the midwest!) until I am sure my parents wanted to throw me out the window. I'm pretty sure I would have kept singing that little ditty right through the border check if my parents hadn't stopped me.

My parents  had bought a case of wine in Texas before we went into Mexico.  I think there was a moment of touch and go when they weren't sure whether or not the border patrol would either confiscate it or make them pay a huge fine.  Oh, the excitement of being an outlaw and sneaking an American domestic product in and back out of Mexico.

These posts say more about the nature of memory than they do about actual events.  Maybe I'll write about that sometime!
But, next time, I am venturing in Washington D.C.