On Sunday, we woke up pretty slowly. It wasn’t raining, but it was still damp and gloomy outside. The caretaker, Mr. Graham stopped by to say hello and drop off two bulging bags of fresh pecans from his trees that he’d shelled and split himself. He told us about how he had just become a great-great granddaddy. The baby boy is a month old, but Mr. Graham was bemoaning the fact that he “hadn’t gotten to take him hunting yet.”
We walked down to the river and then went on a bit of a drive around in the surrounding Hill Country. Yes we saw “Stonehenge II” and more deer than you can shake a stick at. I even got to speak to some cute goats once when we were pulled over. We had breakfast at a local diner that featured many, many portraits of John Wayne, and a crowd of white folks in their church clothes.
Came back, cleaned up, closed up the cabin and headed for home. It misted on me almost all the way back. Very foggy and surreal looking in places. I just kept thinking all the way back to Austin, “I hope that wasn’t the last time. I hope I can go back some day.” We’ll just have to see…
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