I packed it all. Everything I thought I might need or use for the next couple of days was tossed in the 4-Runner and away I went on a short road trip. Making a big circle through the heart of Texas, my final stop before I head to the house was in Taylor. The school mascot was a duck when I was in high school. The Taylor Fighting Ducks. I guess I will always remember that. How could I not?
But this trip was to a new secret spot. Way out in the middle of the corn fields that are so abundant on the east side of the Balcone’s Fault line. East side of Interstate 35 is the black, sticky gumbo dirt with some pine trees in the red sand and Elderberry, Blackberry and all of those other berries.
Otis stuck his nose out the window as we entered the corn fields. I bet it smelled different and new. Down a little county road, across the railroad tracks and take the first right were her very clear instructions.
The narrow dirt road ran along the tracks for a bit and I could see the roof of the farm-house just above the rows of corn plants.
One wrong turn sent me to this scene. Whoops! Sorry, momma.
Then I was there. My friend Karen’s new home. Situated under gloriously old and thankfully shading pecan trees, surrounded by crops offering all the privacy any fence could ever give, sits a sweet old house and farm created by her grandparents that she has been so blessed to be able to move in and make her own. She has already felt evidence that they are there with her and I’m sure they are jumping with joy that she is getting settled into the land steeped in years of childhood memories. She will take care of retired horses here. It will be a horse heaven on Earth.
First project…let’s get this little grill put together so we can cook the chicken sausages I brought. Yum…with spinach and feta cheese in them.
Read the instructions girls because this could prove to be a mind blower…
Finally, supper and some wine, Otis and the farm dogs wrestling in the background.
Alison Krause and Johnny Cash songs floated out of her bedroom window and over the patio following me to the railroad tracks. Walking up there on those tracks, I found cool stuff, spikes and chunks of metal that I only assume fell off the train or were left in the construction and maintenance of the tracks.
Roasted veggies and sausage satisfied us both and night fall brought out the frogs and crickets orchestra.
A sacred moment with a friend in her most special spot. Thank you, ancestors.
Names of ancestors
Golden and silky corn ponytails
One of many lovely views from the house
Happiness is so simple. All you need is a tractor and some dogs
Cross on the horizon
End of a gorgeous day
Her cool, old stove fits perfectly in the farm house kitchen
On the back of the horse trailer…
On sale for 8 dollars at the grocery store cooks anything you want with pecan twigs we picked up under the trees and a chunk of mesquite wood for good luck…and flavor
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you mothers and to mine.
Back when you were dressing me in Danskins…
…you had this face. It really hasn’t changed much, that smile of yours.
Somehow, you did it. You kept us all alive to adulthood and we turned out pretty well. It takes a village, as they say, and you had your parent’s help. Dad was here as long as he could be but then you picked up his torch when he went to heaven and you carried us the rest of the way.
Thanks Mom. You are still so strong and beautiful. Happy Mother’s Day.
Indian Blanket
Scientific classification
Kingdom: Plantae
(unranked): Angiosperms
(unranked): Eudicots
(unranked): Asterids
Order: Asterales
Family: Asteraceae
Genus: Gaillardia
Species: G. pulchella
Binomial name
Gaillardia pulchella
If you live in Texas or the central part of the United States, you will be seeing the wide and dense swaths of these flowers right now. Firewheel, Indian Blanket, Gallardia…I am sure there are other names but they are so dominant on the horizon as I write, I felt a need to include them in their own post.
I love this flower because it is so hardy. I have found it growing out of rock and I know that if I had tried to plant a seed in that crevasse and watered it with love there is no way it would have grown for me.
It has the distinction of being the state flower of Oklahoma which is just north of us. Way to go, “Okies” I am assuming this is because of Oklahoma’s rich Native American heritage.
If you drive by some of these beauties…pick a couple. They will last a week in a vase. Or at least the rest of your road trip. I know, lots of folks don’t pick wildflowers. I have to admit though…I have. It is just wonderful to have a couple in the house with me. I shower them with love for their sacrifice.
It is a real mind blower when you rock along thinking how unique or in my case, weird, you are…all the little criticisms have built up through the years and played like a tape in your mind over and over… you are throughly convinced that you’re a freak, not like anyone else…I mean I have heard it all my life. “You are unique, there is no one like you” and I’m sure it was meant in a good way but that was your mom speaking and the Masai say, even the dung beetle’s mother thinks its child runs like a gazelle.
Then you watch a video on YouTube about introverts and all of a sudden, emotions come welling up from somewhere way down there by your belly button, they close your throat and wham, there it is.
There are others out there just like you with the same burning questions, why?
Why do they like to be rowdy and I like to be quiet? Why do they love to have people over every weekend and I crave that hour of alone time? Why?
Why was I called a snob in school but was just shy or couldn’t find anyone who liked to study a bird building a nest for an hour or watch minnows in the creek?
Because we aren’t all alike. I may be different from others but there are others like me. Others whose idea of fun is to sit at a rainy window and just look outside at the world. Thank God for the ones who have to be doing something to feel satisfied. They are doing all the things I am not. And you know there is a lot to get done…
There is a difference between painfully shy and an introvert. I started off the shy one and morphed. I used to wonder if a nun’s life might be appropriate.
I love God and could sit all day and contemplate Him. Not talking would be fine for a while even though the men in my life probably think I talk too much but it’s really that I am talking about things they don’t think are important so, could you just keep it to the important stuff please? And really…they ask…do you have to think so much?
For those of you who love to spend hours writing and taking photos, maybe reading as well? It’s okay not to want to go out to a bar or spend the evening with tons of people. I know you do it so they won’t call you anti-social. I know.
There are others like you and they understand, so…just be you. We see you and it’s okay.
eye
With continued rain in the forecast and lots of lightning overhead, today’s second round of competitive trail ride has been canceled. These hard core riders will ride in the rain, that is not a problem. Slicker up and trot out. It’s the lightning that shuts us down. So today, my birthday, I will snuggle under the covers and read and watch Minnow outside the window. Blessed day.
The Super Full Moon of May before the rain
Who is raiding my birdfeeder? I’m gathering clues.
Driving from Modesto to Oakland, California…couldn’t help but capture our reflection on the back of this truck.
As you can see Minnow is standing with his two front feet in a tire. it took me a while to get him to put those two front feet in there but once he understood it wasn’t a bottomless pit, he did it.
The point is to isolate his front end from his back end. I asked him to move his hindquarters around the tire while his front feet stay stationary. If he decides to pull his front feet out of the tire, then we trot or lope circles in the other end of the arena.
After a little bit of that we walk back to the tire and put his front feet in there again. I get out of his mouth and sit quietly letting him rest. He understands that this is his resting spot. The right thing is easy and the wrong thing is hard.
This weekend we compete in a new competitive trail ride association. NATRC is holding a two day ride at Storm Ranch. My first time to compete on the old homeplace and I am excited. We will be ready.
What is it, I asked? I mean I know what “vaca” is and I know “vino” but what is it, what’s going on? They are roasting an entire steer on a pit, Argentinian style, was his answer. It is a fund raiser for the Farm & Ranch Freedom Alliance. This organization is a national organization (based in Texas) that supports independent family farmers and promotes healthy and safe farming and ranching practices. The feast takes place at the Bridges Ranch outside of Wimberley.
Well, we were supposed to be in Dallas on Saturday for a wedding and then San Antonio on Monday…I guess that meant Wimberley or somewhere in between on Sunday would work… so we went.
Out on a ranch west of Kyle and in conjunction with the Austin Food Festival…an Argentinian party was gearing up under an ancient oak tree. Located in a set of old cattle working pens, built many years ago under the old tree for shade, wine from Argentina waited to be tried and there were lines of people willing to do just that.
Tango music in the background, I wished for a dance floor.I don’t know how to Tango but after a couple of glasses of courage (wine), I knew if I could find someone to teach me I would be willing to try.
Glovertango
Meat, meat and more meat… began to come off the pit. Hats and boots showed up to partake and a feast of chimichurri sauce (Argentinean chimichurri made with chopped fresh parsley, oregano, garlic, olive oil, vinegar, and red pepper flakes) and pieces of roasted steer began making the rounds. How much meat can I eat?
steer and chimichurri
I have a pretty good idea now. How much can I laugh and cut up with friends? For hours…
Nice Crease
All Kinds of Hats
Cowgirl 1
Some boots...
and more boots.
Accordian in Tango Band
Piano for Tango
