I just returned from another trip to Texas, financed by my BFF. The trip was a gift from her. She was itching to get back to the Lonestar State (and watch a rodeo) and knew that I always wanted to go to Mardi Gras in Galveston. As fate would have it, they were happening at the same time.
So we took to the skies, headed to Houston to join the other half of our foursome we’ve dubbed “The Texas Golden Girls” — two of my many cousins.
Deb was excitedly planning for months and wanted us to arrive looking the part, so she got us novelty cowgirl T-shirts, western shirts and hats to go with our boots and jeans. Our first fun activity was hitting the casinos across the state line in Louisiana. We won some, we lost some, but nobody left with less than they started and it was fun.
(I love how when my cousins win they put the money back to help others in need.)
We wavered back and forth about whether to bypass Galveston’s Mardi Gras in favor of a smaller celebration in nearby Kemah. Cousin “Gee” said Galveston’s celebration is getting almost as rowdy as New Orleans in recent years. But she finally decided we needed to experience it. Since we were going on Friday night — not the night of the biggest parades — maybe it would be OK.
Galveston’s strand has balconies much like they have in New Orleans. Balcony parties are a great way to see the parades. But we wanted beads.
We learned another cousin’s son was going to be on a pirate ship float and would give us handfuls of beads. That night and the next were two of the balmiest while we were there as the polar vortex had its grip on southeast Texas, too. The crowds were slim because of the rodeo barbecue cook-off contest that same night, so boy did we ever get beads!