Life in the Enchanted City

Learning my way around Lake Jackson hasn’t really taken a compass and detailed map.  After several weekends of garage sale visits, I found that I was becoming very familiar with the small city’s winding, curving roads.  Most of the roads tend to make a circular or half-moon shape throughout the city, so that there are about five different ways to get to the same place at about the same time.

I’ve never lived in a city with so many street names with the word “way.” My favorite street names have to be “This Way” and “That Way”, but there are also the following intersting names:

Circle Way
Center Way
Winding Way
His Way
Her Way
West Way
East Way
Any Way

I think the person in charge of creating names for the streets around here was trying to be funny or play a joke on its citizens and then the joke stuck. All the streets that aren’t named “way” are named after some kind of vegetation of floral, fruit or tree variety. Lake Jackson is so small that it takes no more than 1o minutes to drive through it from north to south.  Right now anyone driving south from Houston to the beach has to drive straight through the center of Lake Jackson.  However, a lot of construction is being done to create an overpass that will divert the highway traffic away from the city traffic.  One day, it will look really nice.  Right now, there are a lot of construction blocks that people need to drive around carefully.

Jared, Luke and I enjoy watching the squirrels play in our backyard.  They scramble down through the trees that are in our yard and in the field behind the yard.  There seem to be squirrels everywhere we go.  One day, I was driving behind a truck when I noticed that there was a dead quirrel laying out flat on his back on his back bumper.  I just kept staring at it wondering if I should try to tell the driver or if he had left the squirrel there on purpose. Before I had a chance to decide, the truck had turned a corner and left the road we were on.  The last thing I saw was that little squirrel tail whipping about in the breeze.

The dead Texan squirrel