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It has been a long long time since I have posted here, and there are many reasons for that. After two years away, I have moved back to Texas, but that is not all that has happened in the past year. I will post about the other changes on a different day. There has been a lot of sadness but today I am feeling good about life and it's infinite possibilities, so today I just want to dwell on pleasant things.

We made the decision to come back to Texas at the beginning of last summer, and started looking, trying to determine where we should settle. We eliminated places that were unfamiliar to us, because the truth is, we were eager to get back to the familiar -- doctors we know, dentists we never quit, friends and family we missed. Grocery stores. Movie theaters. Libraries. All the things we gave up to embark on the high-altitude, mountain life of the past two years. Fact is, we just missed home.

I had a good friend say to me: "You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can't take Texas out of the girl." That kind of irked me when she said it, because it's too simplistic. Home is more than a place, it's a feeling of belonging, of familiar comforts, of being right with the world. Home is where you go to understand who you are.

One definition I found for the word home says "the place in which one's domestic affections are centered." I like that definition best. I never felt those domestic affections for the place in the mountains. I enjoyed many aspects of life there, the neighbors, the wildlife, the clean air, and the uniqueness of the place. But the winters are far too long for me. I didn't mind the cold, but the length of the season was just too much for a person with a slightly green thumb and a desire to plant things for beauty and consumption. The conveniences of a bigger city were too distant to take advantage of often enough, and the economic opportunities were too few as well.

So we are back. And we have bought an old "homey" place that I think will indeed become the object of our "domestic affections." Nothing is perfect, and the weather here -- especially in the summer -- will no doubt become a burden. But I like knowing where I am going, where to find things I need, the names of the plants, trees, and flowers, as well as how to go about growing them. I like being close enough to my grandson to see him more than three times a year, and I like having my extended family nearby, too. I like the food here, places to eat and what's best on the menus. I like not needing a map to get from point A to point B. I like feeling like I am home.

Hard Decisions & Pointless Worry

Well, we are back from Texas. It was a busy trip and I am glad -- so glad -- to be back home in the mountains. Highlights of the trip were: a good visit with my SO's granddaughter. A nice dinner with Daddy. An overnight trip to the Valley and dinner with my aunt and uncle who live there. We sold my SO's place on the Coast, but not before we had one night with old friends at Oysterfest. Spent a good afternoon with my grandson. Had my identity stolen and am still dealing with the consequences of that. And we caught up with our new widow-friend and played all afternoon with her sweet pets.

While we were down there we started trying to make some hard decisions about what we want to do about our living arrangements when we're there. Me, I would rather we didn't have to go down there so often, but that's unrealistic. Things just get crazy when we're there. I seem to do a lot more worrying down there than I do here. In fact, I had one major anger meltdown night when I got maybe three hours of sleep. I won't go into the whole reason for the meltdown but it has to do with a lot of self-pity and feelings of being cast out into the cold. As for my SO, he has conflicting feelings about his old family homeplace there. It holds a lot of memories for him, particularly of the son he lost last year, but it also causes him pain and anguish as well. We bicker a lot when we're there, which I hate like hell. But it's because of the issues both of us have to deal with that make it, on the whole, an unpleasant trip.

But back to living arrangements. Presently, we are bunking in the Salem, our 28 foot travel trailer. It is cramped and takes a constant effort to keep it clean and organized. We have too much STUFF there, and no place to put it all. There is an old mobile home on the place, and we sort of use it as auxiliary storage. We use the ancient dryer that still works as well, after multiple trips to the laundromat in town -- ugh. This mobile home has been my SO's go-to place off and on throughout his life, a sort of stop-gap place to live whenever his life has taken drastic turns. It is a 1973 model that has outlived it usefulness. There are gapping holes in the floor, pink insulation falling out from the bottom, bathroom fixtures that are in appalling conditions. It's dark and dusty, and simply worn out. He has thoughts of trying to fix up the place to make it livable, but I would be miserable in that place without practically rebuilding it from the ground up. I am for having it hauled off and reusing the space where it sits with a newer something -- either another mobile home or a park model trailer, something that isn't too costly but will provide pleasant enough shelter for us to use the few weeks a year that we come down. Right now, I feel homeless when we are there.

The day I had my grandson, he and I went to an RV dealer and looked around. I looked at a new park model trailer that was twice the size of the Salem. It had wood floors, an extra large slide-out, lounge chairs, a closet for a stack laundry, ceiling fans. It would still be a bit cramped, but seemed roomy after a week in the Salem. Also, they gave me a trade-in price for the Salem that brought the cost of the park model way down to reasonable levels.

When I came back with all this information, my SO hit the ceiling. He scolded me for even thinking about spending so much money when I am soon to be unemployed. It was not a fun discussion and we both came away from it feeling resentful. Also, contrite and uneasy with each other for a few days.

The following Friday, we made a trip into Victoria for a birthday gift for his brother, who was turning 50 the next day. I didn't realize my SO had other things in mind, too. He stopped at an RV place where he had previous dealings and we looked at a used 5th wheel. The price was about the same as the new park model, but I didn't think the 5th wheel was anywhere near as spacious. The people said that they would take the Salem on consignment, also not as good as the deal the Corpus Christi RV dealer had offered. On consignment, we might get more for the Salem, but it would not be instant and we would not get the break on the purchase price of the 5th wheel.

We drove on down a few blocks to a mobile home dealer. They had a very small cabin-style mobile home sitting out front. We asked to look at it. The price was in the same range as the 5th wheel and the park model, but this thing was tiny. A queen size bed would not have fit in the single bedroom. The saleslady then took us to their back lot where they had a lot of government issue FEMA mobile homes that have never been lived in and are in the process of being fitted out for sale to the general public.

Several months ago we watched a piece on television about the 3,000 FEMA mobile homes sitting in storage on a lot in Hope, Arkansas. These trailers had been purchased for Hurricane Katrina victims and then never delivered for one reason or another. The one we looked at was plain, adequate kitchen space, linoleum floors, a single, though large, bathroom, three smallish bedrooms, nice size laundry area, and roomy front room. It was 14 by 60 feet with central heat and air, and was only $4000 more than the tiny cabin model they had displayed out in front of their office. The price included delivery and set-up. Fourteen by sixty seemed like a mansion to me after living in the Salem for two weeks. We have enough furniture in storage and in the basement here to practically furnish the entire thing. Would have to buy some living room stuff, but that is basically IT. We agreed to think about this, wait and see what happens with the company I partly own in Corpus, and do the research needed to learn about how to dispose of the old, worn-out mobile home already on the land.

Oh, how life throws changes at us. And decisions that need to be made. We can only just hope we're making the rights ones and go about our business. I don't like to be having to make such big decisions at this time of my life, though. I had always imagined I would be settled someplace by now, with lots of security, writing the great American novel, no worries. I never dreamed I would have an elderly father taking up a lot of my thoughts, or contemplating the purchase of a mobile home for God's sake, or living in the mountains of northern New Mexico wondering how in the hell I'm going to afford all of this without a viable income. I guess I need to learn to roll a bit more. Flexibility has been my strong trait. But then endless worry gets you nowhere either. I have a big ugly fever blister on my mouth as a result of pointless worry.

On the upside, I've sold a few blouses this week. And the Kindle sales on The Passion of Dellie O'Barr are surprisingly good. So all is not doom and gloom. We have a party at the Lodge this Saturday to look forward to, and lunch today with some friends in LV. My SO's granddaughter is coming to stay with us in May, and we are bringing my grandson back with us after the next Texas trip in June. I guess my SO is right when he says that things have a way of working themselves out. I just need to settle down and see what happens next. And be happy, as the silly old song goes.

Onward .....

West Texas Trip - Catching Up

(Since we were often in places without internet connections, I blogged anyway, and am posting belatedly.)

DAY ONE: The Start of Our West Texas Trip (May 15)

Got up and had breakfast in the trailer. We stayed in Somerset, just outside south San Antonio, 6 miles from Lytle where SO has some business with one of his customers. They’re having a Grand Opening and he agreed to attend. I took him to the store in Lytle and dropped him there, then drove into San Antonio. It took about twenty minutes to get passed Lackland AFB. Brought back a lot of memories. I foolishly thought for a second that those were the good ol’ days, but the only thing good was that the kids were little and full of joy, but my marriage was already shaky.

Had the dog with me and we stopped at a PetSmart down Loop 410 at the Sea World exit. Sea World did not exist when I lived in San Antonio, but some of the area is familiar all the same. I swear the dog recognizes the PetSmart sign. She started twirling in circles as soon as we turned into the parking lot. There were lots of dogs inside the store, and she was just too excited to behave. But she was funny.

SO called as I was walking into Target. His back was killing him standing around the store, and he asked me to come pick him up. I went ahead into the store to get snorkel sets for our trip to Balmorhea, then drove back to the Lytle store. He was waiting out front.

We went back to the trailer and chilled for the rest of the day. I cooked ham steak because there just was not a place to eat out in Somerset. Cooking in the trailer's teensy tiny kitchen is a real challenge. I had planned ahead though and kept it simple. Opening cans, making salad, etc. Brought along a buttermilk pie I had made at home for the trip.

After supper, the dog and I walked though the nearby cemeteries. There were three all together, one Latin, one for the Barker family who were apparently a prominent ranching family in the area, and the third cemetery was mixed. I have always found folk cemeteries especially interesting. One of the headstones in the Barker cemetery had two tokens sitting on top of it that looked as if they had been there for ages. One was a metal Christmas that has nearly lost all of its paint. The other was a jolly fat man, but not bearded like Santa Claus. I picked them both up to inspect them, and wondered what the significance of them was to the person buried there, or to the person who left them.

The cat has come along on this trip and he has pretty much taken over the trailer. But he’s doing much better than I anticipated. He continues to surprise me with adaptability.

Onward....

DAY TWO: Del Rio (May 16)

Kitty was not as good with traveling today. He yowled most of the four hour drive.

We have a spot in a brand new RV Park two miles from Lake Amistad. On the way here, the sliding door on the bedroom inside the trailer fell down and pulled the runner from the ceiling. Our first priority was to get the door back up. My SO had thought out the problem and his solution required a trip to Home Depot, which we remembered passing on our way through town. Repairing the door took most of the afternoon, but we did get it done in time to make a quick trip to the lake. We took our fishing rods and the dog, found the pier right where the internet had told us it would be. We tied on our new lures, and fished for about an hour. I had one strike but it has been so long since I have fresh water fished, that I forgot all about having to set the hook. Damn! It was still lots of fun.

I had no idea Lake Amistad was the second largest lake in Texas, or that there were so many fabulous weekend homes overlooking the lake. We rode across the bridge to another spot with a pier. Border Patrol are all over the place, which is good, but it still made me feel uncomfortable. I can just imagine how a Mexican-American might feel. We found the other pier but it was occupied by a bunch of kids so we didn’t stop. The dog really doesn’t like kids, and it was too hot to leave her in the Suburban.

Ate at Luby’s for supper. I really miss Luby’s but not if this one is an example of what they’ve become. I guess I miss the OLD Luby’s. It’s no wonder they’re going broke. The food was cold and tasteless, and service was nonexistent. Pretty soon cafeterias will be relics of a past time just like some of the falling-down drive-in theaters you still see occasionally in rural areas.

The cat kept me up most of the night last night. He loves getting to sleep with me, but I’m hoping he will be so tired from the drive that he’ll lay quietly at my feet. I have felt like a walking zombie all day.

Onward ...

Montana

Been a while since I posted here. We left on the 23rd for the much-anticipated Montana trip. We had agreed beforehand to leave behind the accoutrement of our everyday lives, like the laptop, and just use the time to be together and groove on Montana. We certainly did do that.

Can there be any more beautiful place in the country? Unless it's the coast of Alaska or the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. Both of those places blew my mind when I visited them, but Montana ranks right up there. Breathtaking sights at every turn. Seemed I spent a good part of every day with the camera in my hand.

I was surprised by how much history there is up there -- western history, the kind that tugs at me, that pioneer history thing that starts stories simmering in my mind. Lots of stories to be told up there, and so different because of the terrain and the weather, than Texas stories. It's somehow even more western than here, more rugged and individualistic. The population, what little there is, seems younger, more genuine in their friendliness. I don't know, I felt that I could live there. I understand more and more the reason my fellow is so in love with the mountains. He has had his three years of living there and I think he wants more. But we both love Texas, too, so what do you do?

Hit the lottery?!! Or write something shamelessly commercial? Something aimed at the people who just can't seem to get enough of vicarious adventure, the same people who spend hours tuned into reality shows, something sordid and purposely controversial. Hmmmmm. Don't think I'm that kind of writer, unfortunately. My finger is definitely not on the pulse of popular American culture. I didn't even like "Titantic" for god's sake. Oh well .....

We did go to the Book and Author Luncheon the day before we left on our Montana trip. It was more fun than I thought it would be. The SO had an absolute ball. He went around glad-handing the featured authors, buying their books, and discussing mystery writers he likes with them. I'm so happy he enjoys these sorts of outings. I think he might even like them more than I do. Later, after we were home, the friend who had invited us to share his table commented that the SO and I just seem to fit seamlessly together. It pleases me to hear because I certainly agree.

The trip to Montana, on top of being an investigative vacation, wanting to find a place to retire someday, or to have a summer place to retreat from the brutal Texas heat, was also a celebration of sorts, or a commemoration. While we were up there, our two-year milestone came, a remembrance of the first time we met for dinner at Olive Garden. We didn't find an Olive Garden to mark the day, but a pretty good substitute presented itself in Butte. My SO asked the hotel clerk if there were any country-style Italian restaurants in town and got a recommendation. It turned out to beat Olive Garden by a mile, and we drank a toast to ourselves and our future.

Onward ....