From the Philadelphia Inquirer‘s gardening blog:
They grow everything big in Texas
I’m talking tomato cages here. These are 24 inches’ diameter and 6 feet tall with 2-foot extensions! I need ‘em this big to accommodate the grafted tomatoes I bought last week …Nothing’s worse than tomato season in full force, and your plants are toppling over for lack of support. It looks messy and is horrible to deal with. So we’ll see how this experiment goes. The jumbo cages come from a company called Texas Tomato Cages in Del Rio in south Texas. Free shipping.
Another in a rootin’, tootin’, calf-ropin’ series about writers who use Texas and Dallas clichés.
From our friends at the Texas Tribune:
Everything is bigger in Texas – even our filibusters. In 1977, TX senator set record with 43-hour effort. trib.it/WIgrCD
— Texas Tribune (@TexasTribune) March 14, 2013
I hate to call out the Tribune, though, because that’s an interesting piece that you should read immediately. Rand Paul ain’t got ish on Fort Worth judge Bill Meier.
A rambling, occasional, rootin’, tootin’, calf-ropin’ series about writers who use Texas and Dallas clichés in their pieces.
In a piece about Anvil Pub’s 32-ounce Bloody Mary, CentralTrack’s Melissa Mack:
Our reputation here in Dallas is that we like everything big. Our hair, our football stadiums, you name it.
Funny, then, that most Bloody Mary options in the area brunch scene are served rather bare — just some vodka, a little mix, some salt around the rim and maybe a few accouterments thrown in (maybe an asparagus stalk, a lemon wedge or a couple of other things along those lines).
A rambling, occasional, rootin’, tootin’, calf-ropin’ series about writers who use Texas and Dallas clichés in their pieces.
In a piece about the upcoming NBA trade deadline, ESPN’s Tom Haberstroh:
Houston. I’d love to see what [Paul] Millsap could do in a Mike D’Antoni-type system, and the Rockets have a Texas-sized hole at power forward. With sneaky good range in the corners and a knack for poking the ball away defensively, there’s a mini Shawn Marion just waiting to break out.
The first in a rambling, occasional, rootin’, tootin’, calf-ropin’ series about writers who use Texas and Dallas clichés in their pieces.