Balmorhea State Park and Home

DAY SIX AND SEVEN: Alpine and Balmorhea, Home

We had a leisurely morning in Alpine, ate breakfast at a little downtown cafe where the locals seems to congregate. Then we went to a nursery we had past to see if they might have a small ocotillo that we could carry home in the back of the Suburban or inside the trailer. The smallest they had was a three-gallon, which was larger than we wanted, aside from which, I didn't think they looked particularly healthy. I understand that they're really slow-growing so it's probably just as well we didn't find one. And now I've got my mind set on a desert willow anyway. Back at the trailer, we plugged-up the space behind the sofa with a cushion so the cat couldn't hide back there while we loaded up for Balmorhea.

We went through some really beautiful country, the other side of the Davis Mountains, which to us are even more lovely than the Chisos Mountains in the Big Bend. The Chisos are the southern-most range of the Rockies, so that means the only other part of the Rockies we need to visit are the Canadians. Someday.

We got a choice campsite at Balmorhea State Park: a pull-through so we didn't even have to unhitch the Suburban. There was also a covered picnic table with lots of shrubbery and brush around the site, making for a nice private spot. A little horny toad was under the table and he became our welcoming committee. My SO wanted to catch him and take him home with us. He said he hadn't seen a horny toad since he was a kid. There had been a couple we'd found in Yorktown, when I lived there. In fact, one day the cat had brought one home and dropped it in his waterbowl. I scolded him, told him that they were endangered, which didn't make much of an impact on him. Anyway, it had sort of sank to the bottom of the bowl on its back. I poured it along with the water outside the back door, and later when I checked, the horny toad had left for parts unknown. I understand that they're apt to play possum when agitated, a defense mechanism that certainly had me convinced.

So, we got the trailer situated the way we wanted it, and by then Horatio -- the name we gave the toad -- had departed into the brush. After we cooled off, we got into our swimsuits and walked over to the pool. It is a huge pool, built in 1938 by the CCC. A fresh water spring was canaled at the same time, diverting its flow into the pool, so fish and turtles swim in the pool, too. The water stays a constant 76 degrees year-round and is clear as glass. It took some chutzpah to dive in, but we both decided that easing in was not a good option.

The SO went first, and I followed. I felt like I was diving into 6 feet or less, I could see the bottom so clearly. It was really 20 feet deep. No chemicals. Just cool, clean, light water. Felt wonderful. We snorkeled for over an hour. I think we spotted some of the endangered pup fish, but we never could find a picture of one so we weren't definite about that. There were some scuba divers in there with us. They pointed out a pair of turtles scooting through the moss on the bottom.

After a while, we started to get cold, so we got out and sat on the edge with our feet dangling in the water. A gazillion little minnows congregated around our feet, taking little nibbles of dead skin. We had both seen on TV these women getting pedicures using fish to exfoliate their toes and heels. I suppose something similar was going on. It felt tickly and weird. They especially seemed to love the SO's feet. Later on, we brought back some cat treats, broke them into bits and fed the little critters. They were sure hungry. Not much to eat in the swimming pool, I guess. The larger catfish came in and began to steal the food, so we packed up our gear and went back to the trailer.

We ate supper then sat outside with glasses of peach wine I had brought back last winter from Grand Junction. It was a nice clear-sky night and we re-lived the Star Party and pointed out constellations and stars we had learned about the night before. We also decided that we were ready to head for home, and agreed to get up early to see if we could make it in one long hard drive. We figured we were about 400 or so miles.

We got up at 6 am. In record time, we had the trailer battened down, drained, and ready to put on the highway. The cat was not a willing traveler and for the first 200 miles he yowled, flipped around in his carrier, and dug at the mesh sides and the sherpa mat on the bottom. We stopped for lunch in Junction and I let the cat loose in the trailer, thinking he might need to use his litterbox. Once we'd eaten and came back, he was hiding so well, I almost didn't find him. I think the truck noise from the highway had scared him. Whatever it was, he didn't make another peep all the way home, and slept, finally, through the last half of the journey. We got home, tired and road weary, about 5:30. There had been 10 inches of rain while we were gone, so everything was green and grown tall. In all, we figured tallied the wildlife we had seen on the trip: buffalo, pronghorn antelope, whitetail deer, mule deer, javelina, rock squirrels, jackrabbits, and red racers, in addition to several varieties of fish, aquatic turtles and water snakes. Oh, and our horny toad, of course. Little Horatio.

Home. It's always a sight for sore eyes, I don't care how overgrown it might look. We'll mow tomorrow. Can hardly wait to sleep in our big king-sized bed.

Onward ....

April Fools

No idea why I used that title. I'm not even sure where "April Fools" even comes from, but it might be something interesting to look up sometime.

I'm joining my SO in Colorado later today. I miss him, but at this moment I'd rather stay home and putter in the garden with the cat. I hate leaving the cat with a sitter after the last time. I just hope he stays well while I'm gone. He's clearly enjoyed having it just the two of us for the last few days. He even did some real exploring outside yesterday morning, walking up the north fence almost to the front forty. When I was done with my little greenhouse project, I called him to come inside with me. He sat in grass up to his chin and stared at me. I imagined him daydreaming about being a lion on the Seregeti or something. Anyway, he didn't come, which he is wont to do when he's happy with his situation.

Later on, I called him in through the sliding door in the bedroom, which faces out the direction of the north fence. He seemed surprised to find that there was a door there, and once he was inside, snooped around the bedroom for a moment as if he were inspecting some new terrain. His usual door is the sliding door that faces to the back yard, so I think I must've thrown him off calling in him through a different door. Odd to think of how limited his world is, and how content he seems to be with those limitations.

I submitted a little piece and a photo to Birds and Blooms magazine yesterday. They don't pay much but if they take it, it will make me feel like a productive writer. I'm finding that most of these specialty magazines really don't pay a lot. I'd have to be incredibly prolific to make even half the equivalent of the advance on my last novel. But I'm just not ready yet to focus on a big project right now.

What has happened to my spelling ability? I used to be a good speller. In school, I was usually one of the last to be eliminated in spelling bees. But sometime in the past ten years that ability has really fallen off. I don't know if it's a reliance on spellchecker or estrogen depletion, but it bothers me. I'm really not happy about growing old, but I don't want to be one of those ridiculous women who fights it tooth and nail. However, I do need to get more active. I dug out the pilates CD and worked out twice this week. Sure made me feel better, and it puts no stress on the damned foot.

It was while I was in the middle of the Tuesday workout that my grandson called. While we were talking, I set him up an email account and we went through how to use it. He even sent me an email while we were on the phone, asking for a new Xbox. I replied that I didn't approve of them, thought he was way to obsessed with video games, and that he would not be getting one of those things from me. He already knew all that, so he just laughed. I hope he will email me regularly, although I'm not taking the laptop on this trip. My SO really hates it when I take it along, plus I'm flying and already have another carry-on, and since I'm not in the middle of a writing project anyway, there's no real need for me to take it. I can hardly scold my grandson for being obsessed when I have my own obsessions. I sent him a parting email last night. Hopefully, there will be a reply waiting for me when I get home.

I have a gazillion things to do this morning. And I'm going to be exhausted by the time I land in Grand Junction, with only two hours of sleep last night. A splitting headache kept waking me. It's from the oak pollen. I know better than to stay out in it as long as I have been this week. When I got in the hot tub last night, I swept a big green pile of it off the spa cover before I opened it. It's the one drawback to living under an oak motte: the pollen and the ocean of fallen leaves.

So I will go off today, and I will try not to worry over the cat and the plants. Daddy's coming to tend the garden, and the sitter is coming to check on the cat this evening. I've got everything covered. And I'll be seeing my DC son this Sunday, so why am I so reluctant to go? I think I've fallen too much in love with this place. Obsessions--

Onward ....