My daughter lives in Seabrook and got invited to Galveston’s Own Farmer’s Market. It’s a public thing, so the invite to 2608 Post Office, near The Strand, was more of an “encouragement.”

Even before we reached the market, we became enthralled by Deborah’s Garden, a community space with chickens, goats and cats, even before we got to the market. Some bearded fellows offered us free seeds and we loved the way fabric was artistically tied into some sort of fiber scarecrow. It’s right across the street from the market.

Despite the threat of rain, vendors offered breads, raw cheese, tomatoes and fresh-cut flowers. A lone reggae artist performed with an open suitcase full of T-shirts for sale.

My sister bought us garlic bagels and they threw in cream cheese. We took our spread to the top of my car trunk and ate until a Fiat had to move.

Buc-ee’s

And here’s my anecdote to show Buc-ee’s, with all its Texas bravado, jerky, gas and Texas souvenirs has become the new travel tradition mixing all sorts of restroom-seeking travelers together. This is my Baytown experience:

A young checker noted that I love the Beatles. How did she know? I realized the coat I grabbed had some Beatles pins on the collar. This band was popular before my time and she said she liked them, too. Paul, I said. John, she said, and we knew we were voicing our favorites. An older fellow behind me chimed in and said he got in his car that morning and the radio was playing “Hey Jude.” And that was his name!

This was a tiny bit of bonding and hundreds around us gathered for gas, souvenirs and Bohemian Style Garlic Beef Jerky.

darraghcastillo@icloud.com