SeanWard.org

The adventures started with a phone call.

“Want to come to a barbecue?”

The correct answer is “Yes,” and that’s how I responded.

It turns out this was no mere barbecue. The featured meat was lamb, hand-carried from a Montana ranch specializing in raising sheep. It was freshly butchered, aged for two weeks, and had arrived at the grill to be cubed and shishkabobbed.

On the way to the event, we stopped at the store and picked up the fixins for cosmopolitans and mimosas, including fresh mint. I made cosmopolitans. The first batch was too sweet, second more traditional, and then another guest crafted tasty mimosas.

While we enjoyed the first few delightful sips, a bird perched on the wreath over the door in the backyard. Seems she had babies, and wasn’t about to let a crowd of mimosa suckin’ lamb eatin’ carnivores keep her from her young. I perched myself atop a stool and peeked into the nest. There were two hatchlings and two eggs.

We ate and drank and then decided to give the bird some peace, and took our party on an excursion downtown. The Riverwalk was pleasant, not overly crowded, but enough people to give it a festive atmosphere. I’ve always enjoyed the way the lights seem to travel down the ripples in the water at night, the aroma a myriad of restaurants provides, as well as the smiling faces one invariably encounters along the way.

Our first stop was a river boat cruise. In my years in San Antonio, I have never done this, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. There was one minor drawback, two young girls seated next to me, across from me, then next, then across (you get the picture), and kicking me in the legs and shins at every opportunity.

The father sat there and timidly told the girls not to kick me, which they ignored until I could bear it no longer and politely told him I would soon start kicking them back. When this didn’t work, I raised my voice and let him know that they were kicking the hell out of me. They truly were. One girl had her legs moving faster than Speedy Gonzalez, peppering my shins with pockmarks. He picked the girl up. Better she kick him than me. Despite this distraction, the cruise was informative and fun, and I look forward to doing it again.

After our ride we headed topside and made the trek to Mi Tierra in El Mercado, where there are the mariachis not only sing at your table, they’re celebrated in wall murals. It’s a long haul to El Mercado. I recommend taking a car for this sort of trek, especially if you’re wearing the kind of sandals meant only to keep a blade of grass or two from poking at your footsies, and especially if it’s after dark and there are nair-do-wells congregating on the corners smoking the chiba. Ok - they’re not so bad. It’s the ones who eye your belongings and who circle you when you walk by that set my flags off. The chiba smokers and the odd person or two having a conversation with invisible acquaintances are not a likely threat.

When we reached the restaurant, my (very real - I swear!) acquaintances and I talked into the wee hours. It was an excellent evening.