Texas part two, from bickering to enchantment

After almost dying of heat in Austin, we left in the late afternoon and landed in Abilene, whose name is her only endearing quality.

We chose it as a quick stopover on our way to Santa Fe.
We reserved a KOA cabin as it seemed to fulfill our needs at the time.
a/c, laundry facilities, showers and a pool.

When we arrived, it was after 10 so we had to dig around to see if they left us a key. We began sorting laundry, trying to look past the fact that we must be in the sketchiest KOA in the country.

The a/c was working but it smelled funky.
I went to use the loo and was greeted in the doorway by a woman warning us that the showers were scalding. "Scalding!" she repeated as though traumatized.

When I returned one of the girls was digging thru everything to find enough quarters to do laundry. After we all scrounged around for a bit, we came up with enough quarters for one load.

Of course, there was no laundry soap anywhere.
As my daughter and I stood with a plastic bag of dirty clothes, staring at the shabby wooden footbridge across a dry and littered creek bed, we saw an old codger standing about with a plastic bag of his own. I was fixing to ask him if he had any laundry soap, when he looked uncomfortable and volunteered “ I am waiting for my wife. She’s taking a shower. She saw a 4-foot chicken snake and I am waiting to walk back with her.”

Well that's not super comforting, but I ventured, “Do you happen to have any laundry soap?”

He didn’t

Ok, let’s add this up.

A/C smells funky.

4 foot snake

Scalding showers

No laundry soap.

Ok, everyone, get in the car, we’re going to a hotel.

We arrived at a less than stellar hotel and within 15 minutes had a load of laundry going and were all in the pool.

The next day dawned bright and sunny.

We had moments of appreciating some of the charms and natural beauty of Texas, but it was peppered with the only real arguing on the trip.

What with the introduction of orks and balrogs on our book-on-tape it seemed fitting.

The golden beacon of light that shone upon us as we were about to leave Texas: a sign read : best fried pies. Homemade ice cream..

In my mind there would be iced coffee, cold lemonade and iced tea.

We weren’t sure we wanted anymore to do with Texas.
The state line was any minute now, but we were so tired and grouchy and thirsty I made the decision and whipped a u-turn and we all gratefully went in.

When the door opened, we knew we weren't in Texas anymore, we were in some wholly other place and time.

A darling girl, who could’ve been a super model, 'ceptin for her prairie dress and ponytail, greeted us with a shy smile, but no words.

We began in a jumble.

Do you have any iced tea? Coffee? Lemonade? Iced water?

“Oh”, she says a little like we had interrupted something. “we were just fixin to close”

"Oh. Ok. Well the sign says you have fried pies, do you have any of those?”

She points to a Styrofoam plate with half a dozen oddly shaped pastries. Along the edges are pieces of tape with flavors listed. Apple, lemon, peach.

We each picked one out.
Her mama had come from the back to see who had arrived.

They let us know that they make the pies every morning.

They were heavenly.

The mom filled up our water bottles with ice from a bag dipped into with a Styrofoam cup, a few cubes at a time.

As we were standing there the girl sized us up and said to one of the girls about the other “is that your only sister?”

"Yes.”

"Oh, well I reckon that’s nice too."

She seemed so sad for us like were were a tiny little fragile thing.

Turns out she is the second oldest of seven.

Those pies were the most amazing thing we had eaten, maybe ever.

After we were back in the van one of the girls wondered about what religion they might be.

“Love”, I said as we crossed the railroad tracks to New Mexico, The Land of Enchantment.

red stick aka final destination

Today was the big day.

We drove into Baton Rouge.

Bloody Stick.

Red Stick, really, but based upon a red stick, bloody with animal carcasses, marking warring tribal territories.

The requested destination, Baton Rogue, appeared to be a non-destination.

Research was done online as well as asking around about it for weeks previous to leaving. We heard lots of great things about New Orleans, not surprisingly, but Baton Rouge, not a thing.

However, Baton Rouge, spoken with an accent, was the final destination and the graduating girl would not be swayed.

The entire notion of the trip was based on a child-like whim.

It is a treasure to have whims.
I want to gift my daughter with the notion that it’s ok to drive for days to satisfy a craving, even if it is just to realize that the fantasy and the reality are different things. And maybe, just maybe, there will be perfect and amazing things that happen along the way that make it all make sense.

When she was a little girl there was a favorite book that was checked out as a book-on-tape from the library that was renewed a million times and listened to again and again. As it turns out, her little sissy would listen outside her door to the same story again and again.

In the story there is a little girl who visits Baton Rouge and to the little girl ears and the inspiration of the southern accented story-telling, this seemed the perfect dream to attain.

Today we left the super darling Memphis, drove through Jackson, Mississippi and as we left Jackson, headed to Baton Rouge, we began the story on in the van.

My Louisiana Sky.

As we drove, the landscape matched the story. Names matched the landscape and the story ended the moment we took our final exit to Baton Rouge.

From the backseat I heard "we have reached our final destination".

Santa Fe

chinese food

old friends reunited

love

the view from our balcony

there were sculptures like this all around the property

this is a popular fence design in Santa Fe. love it.

speechless

austin

Austin is so darling.

After being on the road for so long, it was nice to finally eat really good food.

We blew into town late, and had Mexican for Dinner. The food was amazing, but the space was ridiculously loud.
I spent the time while waiting for our food in the parking lot trying to secure a hotel room.

We slept well, having arrived around midnight. Breakfast the next morning was amazing and comforting. It felt a lot like Cup and Saucer a decade or more ago.

Our server was a darling Portland-esque hipster that gave us tips for a where to find thrift shops and boutiques. She even gave us googie-ful organic locally-made chocolate treat.

A Texan-born friend texted me a referral for our late lunch on the way out of town.

We found a couple of super darling stores.
The most beautiful one was Stag, a men's store.
(more about Stag & Mercury later)

The owner of Stag recommended another store, Mercury, his partner's store. We had to check it out.

We walked into Mercury and were chatting about this and that and topic turned to Portland.

The man working said how great Portland seemed, except that it rains all the time.

Somehow, in that moment, it seemed like the craziest thing anyone had ever said to me. I actually whipped my head around involuntarily in his direction and said how Austin would be so great if only it were raining.
Wow, defensive much?

It was a relief in a way, knowing that awesome people such as this guy I was chatting with would likely never move to Portland.

I am all about understanding that everyone has their own beliefs and cultures, likes and dislikes. I know that what I believe and ascribe to is not the same as everyone else. But somehow with regards to our fair city, it is difficult for me to think that it is not the most perfect city for every open minded artsy type, free thinking person.

I was slightly offended that our rainy, beloved city, would be disdained and even more so, I was relieved.

Our city is not for everyone.

And Austin is certainly not for me.

Austin was amazing, but damn, if it wasn’t just the hottest thing ever.

We were in and around Texas for three days and from morning to night it was 95 degrees or more.

Midday in Austin was 103 degrees.

We walked up and down congress avenue and ran into my darling-ist girls who were looking all glassy-eyed. One of them said “we’re all done with Texas” the other one in quick reply said “yeah, we’re thirsty."
It seemed as if the Texas heat had melted them into one.

more treasures

the question with so many of the things we've found "is it worthy of carting back with us?" and " is it too heavy to ship home?"

for this pitcher the question was "is it worth the asking price plus $15 in shipping?"

the answer is obvious.

 

 Fozzie Bear

 I am pretty sure this is the girl's, but I do so love it.

 made in Japan, eagle adorned serving spoon

 soooo fragile. on their way to Portland. hope they arrive intact

 interior of teacup

cereal mugs for the girl

 crazy giant tea heater. who can read japanese?

 oooh.

 pink depression glass eye cup

pagoda for a planter

Memphis Morning

First off, I'd like to say that Memphis was named after the ancient Egyptian capital of the same name because they are both cities built up along a grand river. One the Nile, the other, The Mississippi.
Here is what our morning in Memphis looked like.

beauty bird.

closed

so cute

closed

yummy

sweet potato pancakes

Graceland

"Maybe I've a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland"

-Paul Simon

As we drove from St Louis to Memphis I had a yearning to listen to Lucinda Williams.

I asked my man, if he could make it happen.

He asked how long he had.

“An hour or two I guess, why?”

He was quiet and fiddling with his phone for awhile then he plugged the phone into the, I’m not really sure, and just like that, Lucinda Williams was strumming and crooning from our speakers.

Apparently there is an internet radio station that has a 6 day trial period for us to try.

St Louis to Memphis, enhanced thanks to Rdio.

The album had in mind was one I listened to quite a lot when the girls were little.

In my memory it was heartbreakingly beautiful album.

I have not listened to it since that time and this time around it was sweeter and lighter, and of course, still beautiful.

I asked my girl if it sounded familiar and she said it did.

We followed it up with a request for the British, Corrinne Bailey Rae, whose soulful singing matched the steamy humidity the deep rivers we were crossing and driving beside.

We moved on to Muddy Waters for awhile as well.

After a rest stop to make tea, 

where we were treated with a sight of birds nest. 

We resumed with Paul Simon’s Graceland. Another album from baby days.

The drive to Memphis was around 6 hrs I think. We stopped a few times and had some breaks from music and stuck in my head was Paul Simon's Graceland.

Honestly, I really like to sing around close friends and family, but I don't know the right words to any song. Really.
I kept singing Graceland, but one of the girls finally said "that's not even how it goes" so we found the album and listened to the whole thing.

And, no, we didn't go to Graceland.

We are having a reminiscent trip for sure.


"This is is the story of how we begin to remember”

Under African Skies, Paul Simon

Lightning is the Rainbow of the Night

Sometimes I feel anxious and long for the comfort of all that is familiar while away from home, and when I am at home I get anxious and long for an adventure.

I lie awake while everyone else sleeps, like is so often true at home as well.
Except for tonight in a hotel in St. Louis, there is a storm raging that is unlike anything I have experienced.
There is a wicked, wicked thunder and lightning and pouring rain.

When the thunder and lightning began, we were leaving the St. Louis Arch and it was dusk.
It was magical!

But it went on and on, getting more and more intense. By the time we reached our hotel it was pouring down rain and the radio announced " severe thunder storms warning" in effect for at least an hour.
Now, 5 hours later it is only more booming and electric.
One of the girls said earlier tonight "Now I understand why someone might be afraid of lightning."

Lightning is the rainbow of the night sky.

If I were home my dog would be up with me and I'd have someone to comfort, which is, of course, a comfort to me.

treasure hunting

One of the main intentions for this trip has been to find treasures for my daughter as she moves out on her own.
She already has nearly all of the practical things one needs and wants to embellish the basics.

This tiny earthen ware jar with a Phoenix on it is perfect. The Phoenix is an ancient symbol of transformation.
When she was coming of age around twelve and thirteen, the butterfly seemed and apt symbol of transformation. One of blossoming into, about becoming.
The phoenix feels a bit more dramatic and fiery and powerful.

This japanese paper tray is an unusual size.

We are both in love with this tin tray
.
We just long-term loaned out our everlast punching bag, so it's perfect that the gloves were found. Another empowering treasure.
Rock on, baby girl!

and a demure cream & sugar set to balance it all out

watch where you're going

After the long days drive the day before and the "rustic" cabin experience, we were ready for some breakfast and a slower morning before heading out again.

We were referred by our camp lady to check out The Occidental Hotel.

 She said to have breakfast at the attached Busy Bee Restaurant.

The Occidental Hotel was so lovely and the woman at the front desk was as warm as can be. I was pulled away, as my family was ready for some breakfast.
As I was walking along, I ducked to peek in the window at something that had caught my eye (magpie, that I am) and of course, I came to stand up just a bit too close to a hanging azalea planter.

I have just a little bump.

Breakfast was weird and slow and we were surrounded by not only our, we-drove-too-much-yesterday selves, but leather-chapped bikers and local sports enthusiasts in casts.

On to Rapid City where we have not only one hotel room, but two.

The day after that should be filled with touristy goodness South Dakota style.

Deer Creek

The second day out on the road made us feels gutsy for driving, I suppose. When we looked out at the wide expanse of Montana we decided that we would stop in Missoula, Billings and Butte to poke around neighborhoods a bit and to treasure hunt some, but uninspired, decided to forge ahead, get some road behind us.

We changed our third night camping reservation to be for the second night and cancelled the second night's reservations.

We drove for what seemed like a million miles, two days worth of driving.
We drove from Coeur d'Alene all the way across Montana to Wyoming.

Driving into Buffalo Wyoming at 1am was less than ideal, but when we couldn't locate the campground, it became far-less-than-ideal.
While meandering about in frustration with maps and GPS systems and deer in the road, we passed by some yahoos having an out of control fire.

It looked too big for the summer's Forest fire season so I took a good look as we passed.
It turns out they had a picnic table on fire as their bonfire, surrounded by a half dozen RV's.

Yes, even in my stupor I called emergency services.

Maybe it's just a regular Monday night in Buffalo, Wy.

When we awoke from our rustic cabin, I was excited that the campsite had showers.
It was very 50's with hard linoleum with starburst patterns, but clean and welcome.

As I was gathering the things I had brought, I was, in the softness of morning, reminded that in my "let's pack super light", that I had chosen to bring a tiny super absorbent camp towel.
Ok, that's a lie. It was a sham wow. But really it's the same thing as the camp towels we have from REI, except for the color.

I looked at this ridiculous scrap of cloth, shrugged and walked up the hill to the shower.