Spring Has Sprung

Wow, three weeks in the Caribbean and when I get home, Spring has arrived. Our whole yard exploded in green and in blossoms. Trees that were still bare with buds just beginning to show are now fully leafed out. Fortunately we had someone tend to the yard while we were gone and she kept it mowed and trimmed. Otherwise we would have come home to a jungle.

The same is true throughout the Texas Hill Country. After almost two years of severe drought, there was enough rain this winter to bring back our sentimental favorite, the Texas bluebonnet. My sisters informed me as soon as I got home that, if I was going to see how beautiful the bluebonnets are this year, I had better get myself out there this week. The blooms were at their peak and in some places, were beginning to fade. So even though my suitcases are still not unpacked and the laundry hasn't even been started, Scott and I packed up a picnic lunch and both dogs yesterday and started driving northwest. 

Our route took us toward Johnson City and Marble Falls before we turned off on RR 1323 toward Willow City and the famous-for-its-wildflowers Willow City loop. It is very hard to photograph on the loop because it is a private road with no shoulders and signs posted by the owners to stay on the road. I tried a couple of shots, but didn't have much luck. 

From Willow City we traveled on to Llano and had our picnic at a park under the Llano River bridge.

The dogs were not thrilled to be tethered too far away to beg easily for lunch, but this was a very nice spot for a picnic. 
 

It is so good to see the rivers flowing again after almost every one in the hill country was dry or nearly dry during the drought.
 

After lunch we took RR 2323 out of Llano toward Prairie Mountain. On this quiet road we had much better luck stopping to take photos.

It is a rite of passage in Texas to have your photo taken in the bluebonnets as often as possible. Dogs have that right, too.

Indian Paintbrush

Agarita

Agarita in barbed wire. Can't get much more Texas than that.

 I love it when you can see blue along the road, as far as the eye can see.

Soon we reached the little community of Prairie Mountain. The school there was once the school, church and community center for the neighboring German farmers and their families. It is now a historical site, complete with marker. On weekends, volunteers at the school are happy to tell you about the history of the community. They told my sisters that they had never seen the proliferation of white prickly poppy like they have this year. 

I agree, the prickly poppy is everywhere; I've never seen it like this. As a biology student, I have to guess that the drought and extreme heat of the past summer must have triggered some dormant seeds. Whenever I think of prickly poppy, I think of my college days at Texas State University. (It was Southwest Texas State University then.) There was a lab instructor in the Biology department named Ruth Cressen. The subject of her master thesis was the white prickly poppy. Let's just be kind and say Ruth knew everything there was to know about this flower and would share her knowledge with you. To this day I cannot see prickly poppy without thinking of her. Ruth, if you're out there, please tell me why we have such an abundant crop this year.


We left Prairie Mountain and headed back home, down Hwy. 71 to Hwy. 281, Johnson City, Dripping Springs and Wimberley. Since it is always a little warmer here than in the counties we visited today, our flowers are mostly gone or past their peak, except for the ever-present yellow composites and the humble prairie verbena.

The verbena is also thicker than usual this year, especially in my front yard. Since it looks so pretty, I am not going to mow for a while, at least until the verbena fades. At least that's the excuse I'm giving. I won't even think about the yard until I get my suitcases unpacked, laundry done and photos of the Caribbean uploaded. Stay tuned for at least a couple of blogs and photos about that trip. Until then, stay safe and enjoy the beautiful weather. It will be too hot too soon. 


Thanks for stopping by.

 

Mayberry Moments

I live in a small town. It's not one of those bumps in the road with a post office, Dairy Queen and little else, but it is small, less than 5,000. Having lived all but my college days in and around Houston, it was quite an adjustment when I first moved here about 12 years ago. My husband and I thought a smaller town and its schools would be a better place for our boys and we had always loved the Texas Hill Country. Now I can't imagine living anywhere else.

There are drawbacks to living in a small town--like no public utilities. Everyone here is on septic and well; that's an adventure. When you live in a city like Houston, you take for granted the ethnic diversity of the restaurants. I miss Vietnamese, Cuban, Brazilian and other exotic cuisines. Here, our most exotic choice is whether to have sweet potato or regular fries with that chicken fried steak. But these things are minor when I think of the friendships and sense of community we found here, deep in the heart of Texas.

There are those moments in my small-town life that make me pause and laugh, almost every day. I call them Mayberry Moments. Here are just a few and, I swear, every one of these is true, or at least mostly true.

You know you live in a small town when . . .

• You buy your makeup and hair spray at ACE Hardware.
• The City Judge, Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce and your brother-in-law are the same person. He is also your lawyer.
• You make a lunch date by saying, "Meet me at the Cafe at 11:30."
• Before you get to the Cafe, you already know what the lunch special is: Monday, meatloaf; Tuesday, chicken/spinach enchiladas; Wednesday, chicken and wild rice; Thursday, hamburger steak and Friday, fried catfish. When you get to your table, the waitress asks you whether you want to look at a menu because she knows you have it memorized.
• You are standing in line at the Jitterbug Coffee Bar when the phone rings behind the counter and the girl says, "Yeah, she's right here," and hands you the phone. Then the caller tells you he knew he'd find you there because his secretary just drove by and saw your car in the parking lot. Mayberry moment.
• The only place in town to see a movie is a walk-in, outdoor theatre. You bring your own lawn chair and the feature starts 15 minutes after "dark." It is open from Memorial Day to Labor Day, every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night and you get first run movies. If the movie happens to be a western, the horses on screen will rile up the horses in the corral next door and they will run up and down the fence during the show.

 It's not all Mayberry; we do have have crime -- theft, vandalism (mostly bored kids,) drugs and the occasional gruesome suicide or death. But not every day. For this I am grateful.

My novel will be set in a town like this, full of quirky characters and just a little evil. The story is rambling through my head, grabbing bits and pieces from here and there, not ready to emerge. Until it does, I'll be here, writing my novel. Thanks for stopping by.