This is more my style!
near the Colorado River, in Bastrop, Texas.
Go Out In the Mid-Day Sun
In tropical climes there are certain times of day When all the citizens retire, to tear their clothes off and perspire. It's one of those rules that the greatest fools obey, Because the sun is much too sultry and one must avoid its ultry-violet ray -- Papalaka-papalaka-papalaka-boo. (Repeat) Digariga-digariga-digariga-doo. (Repeat) The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts, Because they're obviously, absolutely nuts -- Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to, Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one, But Englishmen? detest a siesta, In the Philippines they have lovely screens, to protect you from the glare, In the Malay states there are hats like plates, which the Britishers won't wear, At twelve noon the natives swoon, and no further work is done - But Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see, That though the English are effete, they're quite impervious to heat, When the white man rides, every native hides in glee, Because the simple creatures hope he will impale his solar topee on a tree. Bolyboly-bolyboly-bolyboly-baa. (Repeat) Habaninny-habaninny-habaninny-haa. (Repeat) It seems such a shame that when the English claim the earth That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth - Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. The toughest Burmese bandit can never understand it. In Rangoon the heat of noon is just what the natives shun. They put their scotch or rye down, and lie down. In the jungle town where the sun beats down, to the rage of man or beast, The English garb of the English sahib merely gets a bit more creased. In Bangkok, at twelve o'clock, they foam at the mouth and run, But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. Mad Dogs and Englishmen, go out in the midday sun. The smallest Malay rabbit deplores this stupid habit. In Hong Kong, they strike a gong, and fire off a noonday gun. To reprimand each inmate, who's in late. In the mangrove swamps where the python romps there is peace from twelve till two. Even caribous lie around and snooze, for there's nothing else to do. In Bengal, to move at all, is seldom if ever done, But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. Noel Coward, 1931
|Kyle has about the largest thrift store I've ever seen, in the old library building down by the tracks. But really, ladies, would you buy "pre-owned" underwear? At any price?|
|Kyle has some officially (in my books) cool characters. Here's one of them. He was advertising a garage sale. And he's cool.|
|And what more can an Englishman want of a little town in Texas at lunchtime than a cool little tea-room? Olga's Tea Room, at The Motley Menagerie, an eclectic little store in a 1905 vintage minty-green and purple house. The home-made soup and fresh-baked bread were wonderful, as was that soothing tea.|
|It's hard to believe, but this place that looks like a junk-store/Antique Emporium is actually a hair salon in Kyle. Hair Topic Etc.|
|Fire Engine. Boys love fire-engines, I'm no exception. Clean and gleaming in an equally clean and gleaming new looking fire-house. And my respect to fire crews everywhere. I have friends alive now who would not be, were it not for guys like the ones who crew this truck.|
|The Old Rail Depot, Kyle.|
|The Old Caboose, Kyle. Sadly, a little vandalised.|
|Come on guys, fix the gutter, it's a pretty old building, it deserves a little care.|
|An old caboose would just suit as a bed'n'breakfast by the tracks.|
|A peppermint-coloured house with an old rusty tractor. Love it.|