February 28 – “Rub dirt on it”

I had to check the calendar this morning to see if we were still in February.  Also checked to see if tomorrow was March or if this was Leap Year again.  This whole time thing is so hard to keep up with.  I’m really glad I live on the Island.  Not much use for time around here.

I started my day yesterday trying to catch up with myself after being gone for nine days.  I had to get the computer work done for next Sunday and I had to address birthday cards.  And we managed to fit in a two mile hike around the neighborhood.  Feels kind of silly to call a walk around the Island a hike after spending a few days at Big Bend.  There we did four or five hikes a day and all of them involved going uphill at some point.  “Uphill” is not really a word here in Galveston.  Unless, of course, you are talking about a particularly large sand dune.

So.  Once I got past my mark for computer work, Chris was already outside working in the yard.  That was my cue to grab the lawn mower and join her.  Well, actually that would more accurately be, avoid her.  Didn’t want any of the piles and piles of grass and weeds that I was wading through to get in her way when she has a plan of action.  I did eventually join her, though.  Well, in a sense.  As I turned the corner with the mower at one point, there she was, standing in my way.  Why?  She was protecting the random sunflowers that have started coming up in the middle of the back yard.  Happens every year.  I usually tend to three or four of them until they seed out.  But this year she had other plans.  This year she wants a giant sunflower arbor tracking the concrete stepping stones we have back there.  That’s going to be a chore.  It should look interesting, though, if enough of them survive the nearby mowings and weed-eating. 

The real problem of the day was the stinging nettles in the backyard.  They got us.  I had to take off my ring, and my arm hurt the rest of the night.  I looked up treatment.  My favorite suggestion was on WebMD.  Rub dirt on it.  Yep.  Really said that.  Guess my Dad was right all along.  Bottom line for all the suggestions, though, was “Wait 24 hours.  If it still hurts, you might be allergic to them.”  Great.  And what event could possibly have caused such a horrible acquisition of painful stimuli?  It happened when I started pulling weeds to create that sunflower seed arbor for Chris.  Ouch on several different levels.  No promises on how such a thing might end up looking.  Right now it’s a designated pathway for the dogs. 

Psalms 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Father, thank you for the miracle of time.  The stinging has subsided in my arm.  And thanks again for Chris’ ability to see possibilities in things that aren’t there yet.  Amen.

February 27 – “Artistic Marvel”

Well, I guess we are pretty much back on schedule now.  We are at home.  We went to church on Sunday and I made it through the sermon.  No small feat since I completed it the week before we left on vacation.  I did study on the way home, though.  That’s a long drive from Langtry to San Antonio.

Let’s see … yesterday was my oldest son Kel’s birthday.  No idea how old he is.  But I saw on FaceBook that a new study shows forgetfulness is a sign of intelligence.  And everyone knows, if it’s on the Internet – FaceBook in particular – it has to be true.  Boy, am I ever smart.  I think.  I forget …

Speaking of Kel’s birthday, we had some visitors yesterday.  All five of his youngsters stuck around our /house so Mom and Dad could go do a birthday movie.  I didn’t ask the parental units directly, but the kids were pretty sure they were going to see Black Panther.  The only other option would have been Star Wars.  Christina hasn’t seen that last episode yet.  I’m guessing that since it was Kel’s birthday, Star Wars took a back seat.  The kids were great as usual.  We hung our new kiddie swing up and spent a long time in the back yard with Noa and Ezra while the older guys played video games.  Then when their timer went off (Yep.  Mom and Dad are old fashioned.  They are only allowed a certain amount of time each day on media), we played a game of Pictionary. 

And here I have to award the Artistic Marvel Award to Josiah.  He was on my team and began his drawing with an eye.  That’s it, just an eye.  Then he added a circle underneath it.  Strange.  The out of the circle came a long, skinny oval with a line down the middle that had all the makings of a tongue.  And on the end of the tongue-ish thing was what appeared to be a flying bug-critter of some kind.  This was getting interesting.  I couldn’t wait to see the rest.  Connected to the circle was a fatter oval shape with four very short legs coming down (by now I was absolutely certain I knew what it was, but he was doing so well I just couldn’t stop him.  And we still had time on the timer).  The webbed feet were a sure give-away, so I got in just under the wire with my guess of “frog.”  Very nice job on that one, Josiah.

Mom and Dad returned, and as they were heading home, I got a call that the people heading up the primary voting booth that the church is hosting couldn’t get the doors locked.  They were required to lock the doors because of the equipment inside.  So I headed out there to help with that situation.  Meanwhile Chris went over to the Lassie League fields to watch Cailyn play.  I joined her there on my way home.  Cailyn had a fabulous night at the plate.  A home run shy of the cycle: triple, double and single.  And she did a great job at third base as well.  Not that I’m a proud grandpa or anything …

Psalms 34:17 says, “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.”

Father, thank you for the special children you have gifted us with.  Help them grow to love you more than anything.  Amen.

February 26 – “Hiking home”

Remember all that talk about the Last Hike from yesterday?  Yeah.  No.  I should have known we weren’t done yet.  We did make the long drive all the way to San Antonio before crashing for the night.  And then we woke up rarin’ to go, so we had to find someplace TO go.  We settled on the San Antonio mission tour.  We have been to the Alamo many, many times before, so we skipped that one and went straight to the other four.  They are included on the National Parks list, so there were stamps to be had, and Chris was absolutely on a mission. 

Here are the names.  I get them confused with specifics, so some of the tales that follow might be a bit jumbled.  Concepcion, San Jose, San Juan, and Espeda.  At the first one oi noticed from the parking lot that a tiny little old man in a ranger costume was watching us from the visitor center door.  He had us pegged as his next converts.  Sure enough, as we approached, so did he.  And as it turned out, we were glad he did.  He took us on a personal tour of the mission, sharing little tidbits here and there about the renovations that he had personally seen.  Remember that ghost that we missed seeing up at Fort Davis?  I think this was his cousin.  He was a friendly ghost, anyway, so we didn’t complain.  He even explained how to get to the rest of the missions.  Oh, the mission itself was remarkably well-preserved.  Fascinating.  Just not as fascinating as the little old man.

The other three kind of blur together in my mind.  I do remember that at one of them a gigantic teepee was set in the common area.  As I understand it, a race of giant twelve and a half foot tall Indians used to live on the grounds of the mission in peaceful harmony with the monks.  Their descendants (who all are remarkably short compared to their forefathers) are given permission once a year to set up a rare replica of one of the huge teepees used by their relatives so long ago.  They are even allowed to camp inside the monstrosity.  Just amazing.  Now Chris insists that she heard the story a bit differently, but I assure you mine is a lot more interesting.  Oh, and at one of the others we found the fifth and final member of our touring band … a roadrunner.  We are struggling with a name here.  Rufus was his initial designation, but Rudy has strong support from the siblings. 

I must have had food on my mind at some point in our journey, because my notes included these fine eating establishments: Tink-a-taco and Pollacks Sawsage Farm Restaurant.  We had lunch at Firehouse Subs, as I recall.  Gotta keep it in the family.

Now, I have to confess at this point that I did apparently fall asleep on the job as navigator.  I am not completely convinced though.  A more reasonable explanation is that Chris’ ongoing feud with Google Siri led the electronic mastermind to engineer a short cut sleight of hand that neither of us noticed until it was too late.  See, we were heading for the historical site at Goliad.  Somehow we ended up in Yorktown.  Isn’t that in Virginia?  Chris and Google Siri had a heart to heart talk.  GS finally relented and took us on a strange short cut, but all ended up well.  Except Chris had the last word.  “I still don’t trust her short cuts.”

We finally found Goliad and toured both Goliad Mission and the Presidio Bahia, the Fort by the Bay.  No bay around anywhere, but the San Antonio River was nearby.  The Texas history is way too involved to summarize here, but I will say that any foray into the Republic of Texas must start at the Alamo and swing through here on the way to San Jacinto.  Fascinating place, but you must see both to fully appreciate the experience.

We also stopped in Fannin at the battlefield memorial of where Fannin and his men surrendered to the vastly superior Mexican army.  They were taken into custody and held at the Presidio Bahia before eventually being executed as pirates (Santa Anna gave the execution order against the recommendation of his generals), giving Texans a second rallying cry for revolution.  Remember the Alamo.  Remember Goliad. 

And finally we headed for home.  The sand between our toes was really calling, and around 8 p.m. we pulled into our driveway.  1,911 miles.  Happy to sleep in our own bed.  Home. 

Psalms 34:15 says, “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their cry.”

Father, thank you for grand adventures, but thank you as well for home.  Amen.

February 25 – “The Last Hike”

We started out early after our night of total collapse and exhaustion.  Great breakfast.  Even saw another coyote as we drove to our destination … the last hike.

So, the Last Hike.  This one was to the precariously placed boulder, a huge rock barely balancing on two others.  Awesome sight to behold.  Even more so when the beholder is standing right under it.  Even more more so when you know you have completed “The Last Hike” to arrive.  Now the first mile or so of the hike was relatively easy.  And then we hit “.25 to the rock.”  Should have suspected something when the little arrow was pointing up.  Yep.  From that point on, this hike became a mountain climbing extravaganza.  I think the guy who was rating it got drunk or confused or something when he got to this spot.  He rated this hike “Easy.”  Umm.  Nope.  Straight up.  Loose rocks.  Don’t get me wrong.  As I said up-front, it was an awesome sight.  Well worth the struggle.  I’m not sure Chris would have completely agreed with me on that statement about half way back down the rock climbing part.  That’s when disaster struck.  She slipped and fell.  “Not to worry,” she assured me.  She certainly seemed OK.  She was smiling, and she did press on.  As I led the way to be the scout (read hear expendable victim) and to be available for her to lean on down the mountain, I suddenly heard those tell-tale signs behind me.  Chris fell again.  Banged up her knee and jarred her shoulder this time.  But she was ever the trooper.  She still pushed on.  Still insisted she was OK.  I really am proud of her. 

Finally we left the park and hit the road to … umm … somewhere.  This leg became the “let’s see what we can find” adventure.  We did hit the surprise location of the trip, though.  Langtry, Texas.  We saw a tiny little sign advertising Judge Roy Bean’s bar.  That was enough.  Chris turned around and we followed the signs.  Sure enough, about a mile down the road, there it was.  Judge Roy Bean’s actual bar where he dispensed justice as the Law West of the Pecos.  (We later drove across the Pecos, so we knew we were safe from his clutches here back East).  The facility that went along with the saloon/courthouse was very nicely furnished and operated by the Texas Highway Department.  They even had an incredible cactus garden out back.  Those people love their cacti.

We made our way back onto the road toward wherever.  Before long we began to think we needed to make a more north-easterly turn.  We passed a border patrol truck dragging behind him three of those huge truck tires.  Not sure what he was dredging for.  Chris guessed it was to smooth out the little dirt road so they could track footprints.  Who am I to argue with that logic?  We passed border patrol station after border patrol station.  We even had to stop at one ourselves.  The guy looked in back of the car and asked where we were headed.  But then Chris batted her pretty little eyes at him and he was smitten.  He let us through with no further questions and no hassles.

Oh, and we nearly had a wreck.  Guess I should have led with that one.  It was getting dark.  Chris had been driving around the speed limit (70), but for some reason decided to slow down to about 60.  All of a sudden a truck in the oncoming lane decided he needed to make a left turn right in front of us.  Here’s the thing, though.  There was no road for him to turn left onto.  So he tried to straighten up into our lane.  Seeing us, he decided against that strategy and ended up regaining control in a ditch.  Heart-stopping moment for sure.  Know what Chris’s first words were?  “Thank you, Jesus.”  What a girl.

Psalms 34:10 says, “The lions may grow weak and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.”

Father, we do thank you for protecting us on the road out there.  You do it all the time, even when we don’t realize it, and we really do appreciate it.  Amen.

February 24 – “Five”

Well, one full day with absolutely no (well, extremely limited) phone service and for sure no internet.  It was kind of nice, actually.  About the only thing we checked our phones for all day was to see how many steps we had gone on the hikes we took.  Even the hotel at the end of the day had no service.  It can be done, folks.

Now on to the hikes of the day.  Five of them this time, all in the southwest region of the park.  Here’s my pictorial image to help me remember.  Nasty water pouring over a tiny little ranch house full of junior high kids that is floating down the river through the canyon at sunset.  Yep, that’s the five hikes we took.  Want the breakdown?  Sorry, you’re getting it anyway.

Hike one: Nasty water.  I think this is where we met the Buffalo Lady.  She was carrying around two stuffed buffalos on her backpack.  Everytime they stopped somewhere new she took a picture of them.  Hmm.  Why would anyone do that?  But the hike … This is the one where we actually had to step carefully over some downed barbed wire to enter the Thorn Forest.  It was like going through the evil witch forest in the Wizard of Oz.  We finally came to an old abandoned windmill with some water underneath that birds were drinking from.  A nearby sign read “Do Not Drink the Water.”  Guess those birds couldn’t read.  They were going to town on that Nasty Water.

Next hike was out to an abandoned ranch house.  It looked very tiny out there in the distance.  Didn’t grow much when we arrived, either.  One room with a shed next door and a corral out back.  I did have another name for the trail though.  Significant Scat Trail.  Not that I had any idea what creature made said deposits, but there were more than one. 

Hike three was the one that had the greyhound bus full of 120 Houston eighth graders in it.  The hike was a pretty long one, and we were beginning to wonder what could have possible become of so many junior high kids.  We passed a pregnant lady with a toddler in tow, but neither of them looked to be of junior high age.  We did finally locate the kids at the literal end of the trail.  It just stopped at the foot of a massive wall.  There were some interesting caves in that wall, too, but Chris wouldn’t let me try to climb up there to investigate.  I guess she figured if it could be climbed, then the junior high boys would have already done it.  Can’t argue with that logic.

Next we sought out the nearby ranger station so we could get our book stamped.  And on the way Chris’ whole trip was made complete.  Right there on the side of the road was … a bluebonnet.  Well, I think there were four to be exact.  And some desert primroses (whatever that is).  But we had to stop and back up so she could get out of the car and take pictures of them.  She is happy.  Good thing, too.  The visitor center there was in such bad shape that even the park ranger assigned there closed the office down so he could go get some lunch.  We scheduled a return visit, had our crackers and Pringles and apples and oranges for lunch, and headed onward.  From there we drove to the end of the trail and hiked down to the river’s edge.  That’s where a sweet old park ranger informed us that this was where the actual hike began.  Scary thought.  He assured us it would be worth our time, though, so we took off.  After all, it was designated “easy.”  But then, so had all the others we had been on, and we were getting pretty sore.   This hike turned out to be one of the all-time best so far.  We had to climb a pretty steep hill and then hike down the other side, but the view of the canyon from there was absolutely stunning.  We met a lot of folks on the way up and down.  One couple offered to take our picture.  They were from France originally, but now live in Phoenix.  Their favorite hobby is sailing.  He said Phoenix may not have been the best choice for them, but they are making do.  He took a great picture, though.

The final hike was a mini-one.  After we checked into the hotel and had some supper.  We had to wait while three Bambi moms crossed the street in front of us.  Speaking of which, we have a new member of the band.  That makes five.  Very cute young thing.  Looks just like the actual Bambi.  That name was taken, though.  I’m thinking something more like … “Getoutadastreetyacrazyanimal.”  Or how about “Crayani” for short?  Oh, the hike … We hiked over to see the sun set between two mountains.  After we had hiked about a mile Chris said, “You know, this is a five-mile-hike, don’t you?”  Umm.  No.  I was suddenly quite tired.  So was she.  We retraced our steps and found a spot quite near the hotel parking lot where we could see just fine.  We knew it had to be a good spot because an artist had set up her canvas there and was trying to catch everything just right.  We encouraged her (she was a phenomenal draw-er.  The colors just didn’t match, though.  We didn’t mention that).  Finally we retired to our “cozy, secluded, romantic spot.”  Their words, not mine.  That translates to something like, “The cabin at the top of the hill farthest away from the restaurant and the lobby.”  It was pretty nice, though.  At least it was a lot quieter than the room the night before that was right on the highway, and our next door neighbors were bikers. 

Psalms 34:8 says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.”

Father, once again, you have outdone yourself with the beauty of it all.  Thank you.  Amen.

February 23 – “B-B-B-Big Bend … It’s cold”

Well, now, here’s a surprise. We woke up all set to head to Big Bend when I checked the temperature on my phone.  32 degrees.  That’s right.  Freezing.  And scheduled to get even colder before it warmed all the way up to the low 40’s.  So glad we did that star party the night before.

Oh, I forgot to mention … the hotel graciously allowed us to stay in the same room.  I suppose they managed to contact the ghost and convince him to switch to a different haunt for one more night.  Either that or they moved the people who hadn’t arrived yet.  I’m not sure.  But no ghostish personas appeared yet again.  We slept through the night and enjoyed our last breakfast at the Drug Store.  By the way, they were playing Christian music, so we really enjoyed ourselves.

Internet and cell service was terribly spotty in Fort Davis and nonexistent at the observatory.  And we found out later there is no service at the national park either.  We did manage to score reservations for the spotlight hotel inside the park (the only hotel inside the park), but only for one night.  Without the internet we just had to drive to the area and do some scouting.  Old school, baby.

The drive started out very foggy and the temperature hovered around 32 degrees until we got almost to the park.  Interesting combination for a drive.  Chris was, of course, her usual fabulous chauffeur self.  We passed some interesting sites on the drive.  A fully staffed border patrol inspection station (for cars heading in the other direction.  We didn’t have to stop).  Two pretty impressive structures called Elephant Mountain and Kokernot Mesa.  And for much of the way were actually in the Chihuahuan Desert.

Once in the park we dove right in.  Stopped at the first ranger station and got our National Park stamp (OK, I messed up and put the wrong one in the right spot, but we actually ended up with two stamps).  Then we drove to the first of three serious hikes (well, serious for us.  They were marked “easy” in the map guide we received, but anything over a mile or two is tough when you’re going uphill … both ways.  And I’m pretty sure we were).  The Desert Nature Trail at Dug Out Wells.  Not much to that one, other than we met a nice guy from Waco who comes to the park once a year.  We saw him at several of the other sites.  We also made friends with a couple from Wisconsin who were parked at the site having lunch (My lunch consisted of some cheese crackers and baked potato flavored Pringles.  Chris had peanut butter crackers and sour cream and onion Pringles.  Gotta eat healthy, you know?).  We saw this couple just about everywhere we went, and shared cameras by taking actual photos instead of struggling with selfies (Although, as you can see from some of my posts, I’m getting pretty good at selfies).  They had even been to the Observatory when we were there.  They recognized my GFD hat.  The hike itself was honestly pretty mild.  We heard some birds making a lot of racket and tried to track them down, but all we found was a little bunny.  I’m thinking he was actually the feared predator bunny that once flourished in certain parts of England. 

Next we had to drive to the opposite side of the park.  There was another ranger station there with a different stamp for our book.  That vital task accomplished, we began our quest for the Holy Grail of the Big Bend, that name-giver, that one who actually does the Big Bending … the Rio Grande River.  Our first attempt to see the elusive Wet One came when we stumbled upon a camping site filled with 50 or so tents (Poor souls).  But just across the parking area from them I noticed a sign.  It was in pictures, but easy enough to decipher.  Boat ramp.  Now where else would you need a boat ramp in the Big Bend National Park but at the actual river?  I walked down a ways first to verify, then jumped back in the car and drove down.  Yep.  There it was.  Perfect place for a selfie. 

Now that seemed somehow unsatisfying, so Chris located a second way to connect with Old Man River … a hike.  A really long “easy” hike, with “some fairly steep climbing at the beginning and a bit of a slide onto the sand” at the end.  Sounded rather suspect to me, but this is why we were here, after all.  So now all memories of our prior easy river discovery were abolished (Well, perhaps relegated to this blog to be revisited later), and we took the trek down to the water.  Well, it was indeed up a steep hill first, then down that same hill.  We took a short cut at one point and made our way to the water for a photo of me putting my fingers in the water and our best selfie yet.  We almost didn’t follow the actual trail after the short cut, but, again, it’s why we were here, right?  This part of the trail also led to the beach, but much further down.  Along the way we passed several random gifts shops, each offering an assortment of wire statues of crabs, scorpions and other assorted insects.  Gift shops on a hike? You might ask?  They were just unattended piles of rocks with the statues on them and a jar nearby stating the price and asking you to stick the money in if you buy something.  Honor system.  So who was the mystery artist?  Probably the guy we saw riding his horse across the river from the other side.  Chris took a picture of him.  Glad we were well on our way back to the car by then.

The last hike was down to an actual hot spring was emptying into a fast-moving branch of the river.  Folks were relaxing in the cordoned off tub.  I dipped my toe in.  Chris insisted.  Had to have it on film.  Interesting thing about this hike … there were pictographs sketched on the side of the mountain from who knows how many hundreds of years ago.  Of course there were also scratches and defacings from a more modern era.  Sad.  Oh, and we saw some wildlife.  You know, I’ve heard of centipedes and I’ve heard of millipedes.  But what we saw?  It had to be a gazillipede.  That thing was a full six inches long, just easing his way across the path.  Sure hope he made it.

We finally made our way out of the park and back to the room we secured.  We had some supper in their little diner, and I found another friend to join us.  Carlo the Coyote.  Tiny little thing …

Psalms 34:7 says, “The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.”

Father, thank you for yet another of your many incredible achievements of power and majesty.  The park is truly beautiful.  Amen.

February 22 – “Jerkey, Javi, and Cuday”

Well, as it turned out, we saw no ghosts.  Didn’t even hear any creaking in the walls or walking upside down on the ceiling.  They told us if we stay a second night they might have to move us to a different room though.  Sounded suspicious to me.  Like maybe the ghost was due to arrive?

The hotel had coffee in the lobby but no breakfast.  We had to go across the street to their competitor for that.  The Fort Davis Drug Store and Hotel.  Yep.  Can’t make this stuff up.  Great place.  Old-timey drug store fountain and everything.  Reminded me of the old McCrory’s in downtown Galveston.  My Nani K. used to love taking us there when we were kids.  The food was good (even came back for lunch, but it’s kind of the only game in town unless you want Bistro or Mexican).  The only drawback was the turkey bacon that tasted more like turkey jerkey.  

Fort Davis was our next stop.  At first glance it was just one of those Jamestown style ruins.  You know, the kind with about a foot of old bricks still arranged in rectangles here and there.  But once we got in and walked around, we saw way more than just that.  The Park Rangers were really helpful (and one of them was a volunteer fire fighter in Fort Davis.  I asked about when the obvious controlled burn happened.  72 hours before.  Smelled like it).  As it turned out, Fort Davis is the best preserved frontier fort in Texas.  It is best known as one of the places where the Buffalo Soldiers were stationed. They have done a lot of archaeological work on site and found thousands of artifacts from the time the fort was in operation.  In fact, we were told not to even touch any artifacts we might see as we walked around the grounds.  Now they are in the process of restoring some of the old buildings and staging them with the artifacts from the site.  My favorite memory of Fort Davis?  Oh, that would be when Chris suddenly stopped and said, “Look.  An Indian head.”  Intrigued as to how such a major archaeological find as the skull of an Indian could have been missed, especially in the well-trafficked walkway we were on, I stopped and turned immediately to investigate.  “Never mind,” she continued.  “It was just a leaf.”  So a human head just turned into a leaf?  I told her I was quite relieved that it wasn’t an entire head.  After about a three count she punched me in the shoulder and said, “An arrowhead.  I meant an arrowhead.”  I knew that.  Oh, I almost forgot.  This is where we picked up our next passenger.  Javi joined our little pack when we rescued him from the dreaded BSC (Bin of Stuffed Critters).  He is a javelina, hence his quite appropriate name, Javi.  The name was chosen, by the way, by Chris.  She wanted to keep it simple.

From Fort Davis we drove up the nearby mountain to about 6,000+ feet to Old McDonald’s Farm, er, Observatory.  We had reservations to view the sun in the afternoon and the stars later that night.  A little guy from Ohio was our lecturer for the afternoon event.  I have to say he was extremely knowledgeable.  Blew me away, in fact. 

His lecture (No other word describes what it was) on sun was tough.  Umbra and penumbra and solar prominence and differential something or other.  Whew.  It was pretty interesting to see the actual real-time telescope views of the sun, though.  No action going on up there that day (in the way of sunspots or flares or the like).  Just the sun being the sun.  Oh, and we really enjoyed seeing the two massively big telescopes.  That’s where I learned my word for the day: Cuday.  Apparently Cuday is French for elbow.  I thought cudays were something girls had that you didn’t want to get on you when you were a little boy.  They called part of the telescope that looks like an elbow the Cuday.  Not sure why they didn’t call it “Elbow.”  Too easy, I guess.

The star party at night was certainly worth staying up for.  By staying up I mean it started at 7:30 and outlasted their snack bar and gift shop.  I think we drove away around 9:15, and there were still people in line to look through telescopes.  First we went outside (in the cold) to a big amphitheater.  There were probably several hundred people there.  The even sold out.  There were stars everywhere in the sky.  Way more than we can see even in the West End of Galveston.  They even have laws about lights in the neighboring towns.  Constellation school was first on the agenda.  The guy in charge was entertaining, and told many of the stories from Greek mythology associated with the constellations.  He had an extremely powerful flashlight that he used to point to stars as he talked (Oh, and one time he pointed out a satellite travelling overhead.  Exciting stuff).  When school was out we divided up to look through six different telescopes aimed at different stars and star clusters.  Our two favorites, though were the ones pointed at the moon.  The detail you could see was uncanny.  It made the long waits in line well worth the effort.  But did I mention it was cold? 

There was one thing I did miss in both sessions at the observatory.  No one mentioned God.  Well, except for the lady behind us in line who told her little boy that God must have created the spider he saw for a purpose.  Imagine, such an awesome display of God’s power, and it was just lost in the science of it all.  Sad.

Isaiah 40:26 says, “Lift up your eyes on high and see who has created these stars, the One who leads forth their host by number, He calls them all by name; Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power, Not one of them is missing.”

Father, you are truly amazing to have created such magnificence.  Way to go.  Amen.

February 21 – “Heading west, youngsters”

And finally we hit the road.  (Sorry I am a day behind in my posts, but they will all get put up eventually).  And what were we met with but a wild racing donut box blowing across the plowed-under fields of … stuff.  The wind was crazy.  22 mph.  We looked, but couldn’t find Chip and Joanna’s house.  We did see some holy sites early on. 

Highway to Heaven Biker Church and Boots n Saddles Cowboy Church.  Something for everyone.

We drove through Hills County, the Goat Capital of America.  No goats.  Changed counties and saw a huge herd of … goats.  One stretch of road was nothing but pecan companies everywhere.  Check out Pecans.com.  We went right by that one. 

We departed from our scheduled route (no surprise there), and pulled in to take some pics at Presidio de San Saba and then Fort McKavett.  At the Presidio I glanced in the rear view mirror and did a double-take.  There as big as a horse was … an alpaca.

After several hours on the back roads, we finally hit I10 and the 80 mph speed limit.  Chris took over driving.  No, that doesn’t mean anything.

We saw a big old road runner in Fort Stockton.  Like as big as a house big.

We went through Alpine, Texas, variously touted as the Home of Rodeos, Fiestas, and Duck Races.  Oh, and the Texas Cowboy poetry gathering.  And Sul Ross University.

We saw one authentic tumbleweed.

The Animal Report:  what critters did we see?  Longhorns.  And some plain old cows.  Horses and a donkey.  Sheep.  Hawks.  Big hawks.  Several deer.  A coyote crossed the road right in front of us.  Why?  To get to the other side, I guess.  Always thought they traveled in packs.  Maybe he was the scout.

Roadkill pizza ingredients were a bit more varied and full:

First off was a cat.  A plain old cat.  Where, oh, where is the fun in that?

But what followed?  A sheep.  Lots and lots of deer.  Opossums.  A beaver.  Skunks.  Boars.  Armadillos.  Raccoons.  Coyotes.  A jack rabbit.  Numerous other unidentifiable remains. 

In Fort Davis (Our ultimate goal) we couldn’t find a normal chain hotel so we cautiously checked into what we were certain was a haunted one, built in the 1800’s.  Everything was … old.  And creaky.  And creepy.  It was great.  We ate at their bistro.  We shared a trout.  Not bad for fresh water, but I have had much better.  Much, much better. 

Psalms 34:2-3 says, “My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.  Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together.”

Father, thank you for the miles and miles of not much of anything that you created.  It was awesome.  Amen.

February 20 – “Only one”

Zakary’s baptism was truly a special occasion.  He entered the water as confident as an Olympic swimmer and answered his Dad’s questions affirming his faith just as confidently.  And looking on with pride were his brothers (baby sister was in the nursery, and I have to say, four-year-old Luke did a fabulous job in Big Church), us, Christi’s parents and brother and sister-in-law and their kiddos, the Winkles (his “other” set of grandparents), another Winkle or two (Corbin and Rachel, the newlyweds), and a host of his Waco church family. 

After church we retired to the house where Christi had arranged for a feast of Mexican food from their favorite local restaurant.  Zak’s request for his baptism celebration meal was a simple one: tacos.  Well, tacos abounded.  Soft tacos.  Hard tacos.  Beans, rice, meat, lettuce, tomatoes, salsa, queso, and even three or four bags of chips for nachos.  Quite the “simple” feast. 

After the food settled, Grandfathers BobBob and DadDad presented Zak with the blessings we write for him.  Then Josh presented him with a pocket watch to be engraved with Jeremiah 29:11, so he would always have an heirloom to remember his special day by.

Before long, Christi’s family all had to leave for home.  And Josh and Christi had meetings.  And Zak and Caleb had drama rehearsal for an upcoming program at church.  So Chris and I had the enviable task of hanging out at the house with Luke and AnnaGrace.  We managed to suffer through it.  Actually, it was great fun.  Luke regaled us with displays of his basketball prowess.  AnnaGrace, not to be overshadowed, bullied her way onto the court (read here, living room floor) and performed some “ball” feats of her own.  Quite the burgeoning athletes there.

We found out that Zak had an interesting experience at drama rehearsal.  The entire stage area is being used for the production.  Apparently some doors to the baptistery area had been left ajar, so the director asked Christi to take care of it.  However, when she reached the room, she couldn’t locate the light switch.  She could, however, see Zak on stage, so she got his attention and asked for his assistance.  He joined her, confident he could take care of the situation since he had just seen his Dad do it that morning.  Sure enough he found the light switch and leaned forward over the baptistery to deal with the doors.  And then … he slipped.  Now if not for his cat-like reflexes you can imagine what could have happened.  He managed to get hold of the side wall, however, and walked away from the potentially embarrassing situation with just … well, shall we say … some clean shoes and socks.  OK, Zak, here’s the thing.  You only need one baptism.

Jeremiah 29:11-14 says, “’For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.  ‘Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you.  ‘You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.’”

Father, thank you for Zak and his confidence in his decision to follow you.  Amen.

February 19 – “Mommy’s home”

What a Saturday.  Pretty full day.  Caleb had a basketball double header.  During one of the games his other set of grandparents showed up from Crosby, followed within a few minutes by his Mom and Dad.  AnnaGrace’s face when she saw her Mommy was priceless.  Sheer joy.  Mommy’s home.

After the second game we all went over to Jason’s Deli for lunch.  It’s one of their favorite hang out spots.  Food was pretty good.  Typical deli sandwich, but I had some Irish Potato Soup that was amazing.  Know what I’ll order next time for sure.  After enjoying an ice cream cone and/or a root beer float (made from the free ice cream machine and the free refills root beer dispenser – told you it was worth the trip), we headed back to the gym for Zak’s basketball game.  It was a close, hard-fought affair, with the lead exchanging hands numerous times.  Zak’s team ended up losing, but only after their two ball handlers had four fouls apiece and were physically exhausted.  Nice games, Zak and Caleb.

The evening hours proved a bit more relaxing.  After a fine supper of spaghetti, Josh figured out how to us the new YouTube TV.  They don’t have cable, but this new invention allowed us to watch some of the Olympics and a lot of college basketball.  Great way to spend an evening, wouldn’t you say?  Oh, we did do a little switching around of rooms for the night with the addition of Christi’s mom and dad.  Hey, we gotta get ready for living on the road for the next week, right?  Well, not on the road, literally.  That would be camping.  That’s not happening …

Psalms 34:1 says, “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.”

Father, thank you for extended families and grandchildren rallying points.  Oh, and for Mommy getting home.  Nothing quite as special as that.  Amen.

February 18 – “A Stinky Birthday”

It has come to my attention that the newest member of our entourage has not of yet been formally introduced to the blog world.  So sorry about that oversite.  Her name is of course derived from her place of origin, so allow me to introduce you to Mammy the Sloth, now companion to Nonay. 

We had a little family birthday party for Josh at breakfast on Friday.  His boys gave him a new game called Stinky Pig.  It’s one of those pass-around hot potato-type games.  The pig plays music while you pass it around the circle.  If the music stops and the creature passes gas while you hold it, you lose.  Great fun.  Almost as impressive as the game their third set of grandparents gave them.  That one is called Gas Out starring Guster the Gas Cloud.  Same idea.  However, a cloud is not exactly what Guster calls to mind when you look at him.  Let’s just say his image fits the game concept.

Josh and Christi left for their night away around 9 or 10.  All the boys have school on Fridays, so we had AnnaGrace all by herself.  Very difficult time for all three of us … Not.  It was great fun. 

That afternoon we managed to find the boys’ school sites with a little help from our good friend Google Siri.  So far she and Chris are still on speaking terms.  We’ll see how that relationship pans out in coming days on the road.  The late afternoon and early evening was spent in watching a movie and eating pizza.  AnnaGrace went down to sleep at a reasonable hour, followed by Zak who disappeared into his room.  Luke was determined to have a sleepover in the living room, so he and Chris and Caleb ended up there, on the floor.  I took a page from Zak’s handbook and snuck into our bedroom.  All was well until early, early morning (like 2:30 early) when AnnaGrace stirred.  Chris was johnny-on-the-spot though, and had her in arms before anyone else woke up.  A problem did arise about an hour later, though.  Chris had to go to the bathroom, and AnnaGrace was not so happy about that decision.  I heard the ensuing tumult and staggered into her bedroom, but by the time I arrived Chris was back, and the two of them were motoring back and forth in the rocking chair.  I made my way back to the bed after a quick check on the sleepover gang.  It was a shorter night than usual, but somehow fresh donuts in the morning make anything seem just a little more palatable.  Kind of like Sunday mornings at Seaside …

Psalms 33:20-22 says, “We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.  In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.  May your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord, even as we put our hope in you.”

Father, thank you for the birthday fun.  And thanks for Chris’ Mommy instincts taking care of AnnaGrace in the middle of the night.  Amen.

February 17 – “Named”

We finally pulled away for our Waco-cation about 8 a.m. on Thursday.  After we got the car packed and both of us settled in for the drive, I happened to glance into the back seat.  What to my wondering eyes should appear, but a sneaky stowaway returning my gaze with a piercing stare and a sloth-ish grin.  Yes, that sloth of no name decided to plop himself into the car, and he wasn’t budging.  Hey, there’s an idea.  I think until I get some more suggestions, I’ll call him Nonay.  Sounds sloth-y and foreign, but actually it’s just short for No Name.  Done.  He was pretty active, for a sloth.  At Bucees he wished a college ladies softball team good luck on their season.  They will be hard to beat now.

When we arrived in Waco we went straight to the Mammoth Monument National Park.  Our purpose was to purchase our National Park stamp book and get our very first stamp.  I don’t mean stamps like to mail something.  At National Park sites you can get them to stamp one of those things that looks like an old cancellation mark onto a piece of paper or into a very nice book that they sell.  Hence our purchase.  We expect to be able to garner a few more of those stamps before our journey ends.

Now our park ranger guide did a fine job of explaining fossilized mammoth things (Although he was no Ed Dawson, of course).  The highlight of the trip, however, came in the gift shop.  Apparently one of the creatures that existed at the same time as the mammoths was a gigantic … sloth.  And over in a corner, tucked away all by herself, the only one of her kind still in existence, was none other than a female version of old Nonay.  There was never a doubt in my mind that would pay her bond and free her from the rigors of captivity in a National Park.  I mean, without someone like Ed and Lauren to care for such a sad little orphan (they are well-known for taking care of refugee chickens, ducks, alligators … you get the picture), how happy could she be?  And when we got her into the car and made all the requisite introductions, Nonay was as slap-happy as a sloth can be.  He sure won’t be lonely for the rest of the trip.  The two have been in each other’s arms ever since (It’s a sloth thing).  I have a feeling they will be in more than one of our upcoming trip photos.

We did connect with Josh and his family in plenty of time to take them all out to the Cotton Patch Café to celebrate Josh’s birthday.  I ordered (with great fear and trembling) the fried shrimp.  Not too bad for central Texas.  And the fried okra was actually crispy.  Chris and Christi split the chicken fried steak.  It was huge.  That may be one I try next time. 

Psalms 33:18 says, “But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love.”

Father, thank you for Park Rangers and café waiters.  Oh, and for female sloths.  Amen.