Sunday Afternoon Polo

We went with Mama's friend, Mr. Austin, to watch a little polo this past Sunday. We never complained, but it was SO HOT. Mama's car read 102 degrees, and that's not including this thing that Casey Curry calls the heat index. Gene Norman would have given yesterday a Norman number of -5. It felt like 120 degrees, at least. Just look at Sister's face and you can see how she felt about it.

Once the sun went behind the trees, we were able to enjoy the last couple of chukkers...that's what the polo people call a period. We sat in a nice box. Played in the dirt, and played with a few dogs that did a frisbee act at halftime. They even gave us a frisbee to take home. Brother has learned to whistle...so he thinks. We went to the Astros game and sat in a box that Baker Botts was so kind to invite us to earlier that day. I guess he saw someone whistle by putting two fingers in their mouth. Now Jackson puts two fingers in his mouth and makes a high pitched squeeling noise and calls that whistling. He's a character. No one really whistled at the polo match, so he found entertainment with Mr. Austin's helmet.

Thanks to Mr. Austin for taking out to the polo fields. We are looking back to going again in the fall.