Where we'll be

Every year, come Thanksgiving, I know I'll be at my farm. This year we almost changed our minds but the the farm is where everyone wants to be. It's a very humble little place in the Texas Hill Country but for some reason when people drive through that gate, that peaceful, easy feeling comes over them. My kids love it and the grandkids love it even more. Nieces and nephews come for this one long weekend of family, fun, and surprise.

Of course, there is the usual turkey, dressing, football games, and hayride but, sometimes we get a wild hair and head to Fredericksburg or Llano to shop and dine, Luchenbach to buy souvenirs or to Enchanted Rock (in the pick above) for a great way to walk off the pumpkin pie!


Not far away (and where some of our visitors may be lodging) is Lake Buchanan fed by the Colorado River. At the north feed is the Colorado River canyon, home to 25 wintering bald eagles. Kayaking along that stretch takes you past waterfalls and the eagles. Just as the river stretches into the lake, there is Fall Creek Vineyards with award winning wines, wonderful patio for picnicking, and a play area if children are along for the trip.

For those who came last year, you know the bunkhouse was the project so we could sleep more people. A few weeks ago, we had a freak storm blow through and take half the porch roof off. So, from now til T-day, we'll be scouring Craigslist for material and completely rebuilding the porch. *Sigh* I though we might skate till Thanksgiving without a big project. I hope it's not becoming ANOTHER Thanksgiving tradition!!!

Life in the country

I love my little place in the country. We've been inundated by butterflies. The weather is turning cooler so the deer seem to stay out a bit longer. This morning was the first day of deer hunting season. I lay in bed listening to the hoo-hoo-hoohoohoooooo of an owl in the tree by the well. Also, listening for the start of the season. Thankful that I heard no shots, I got up, fixed breakfast and started my day. It was a glorious fall morning. The post oaks are starting to turn yellow, the poison sumac turns red. We still have wildflowers blooming. The butterfly to the right is one of many that have enjoyed the late-blooming flowers.

As I was puttering around the house, I heard Harold (my husband) yell, "Laura, come quickly. COME NOW!" I headed out the door, rounded the corner and he was by our "blue barn" doors. He said, "Get Buddy (the dog) in the house, NOW." I put the dog in the house and hurried back to see what he was behind the door. I asked if it was a racoon? No. Snake? No. By then, I'd rounded the door and there at the entrance to the building, sheltered by the partially open doors was a doe. She was dead. We looked for entry wounds and didn't see any. After looking her over, we decided she'd gotten hit by a car or truck and ran. She was so beautiful.

Harold got the tractor, took her body to the back pasture, dug a hole with the tractor and we placed her in and covered her. I hope that's the last one I have to care for in that manner. I like taking pictures, and watching them from my porch or treehouse but, I'm not a hunter. I have nothing against hunters as long as they are going to eat the meat. I just don't like wasted life, animal or human.