You may remember the quandary in the post entitled, “Soliloquy” To Retire or to Re-Tire.
Unfortunately, we need to do both at the same time. We came back East to tidy up a few loose ends and while we were here, I took advantage of our proximity to Tire King in Sussex. Charlie is a good friend and was a good customer of mine at The Chatterbox. Before we left to head West, I had been meaning to get the motorhome over to Charlie so he could give me an opinion on one of the tires. It seems that the dreaded “Dry Rot” had infested it and I did not know to what degree it was considered an issue. I knew that I could trust Charlie to give me a straight answer.
It was not the answer that I wanted.
Not only was this tire (right front) not safe, but it turns out that the right side of the motorhome was probably exposed to the sun more than the left side because Charlie could see some issues starting on the right rear tire as well. He also discovered slit in the left rear tire. There are six tires on the motorhome, and we are now up to three that should be replaced. The two inside ones on the rear axle ,which are not exposed to any sunlight were fine. Charlie’s recommendation was to get four new tires, that way they will all be the same age and wear and put them all around onthe outsides.
He said and I quote, “ It’s really nasty when one of these blows. It tears up your motorhome. Just go over to Mike Ceccini at Country Classic Autobody and see the bunch he has over there waiting to be repaired. Not many places do repairs on these things.”
Driving around the country, away from our normal homebased local repair facilities is nerve wracking enough without adding issues that can be simply avoided.
Needless to say, our departure Westward will be delayed by a day so that the work can be done.
Interestingly, Charlie’s tag line which he has had since he opened about 35 years ago is:
Do you ever find yourself questioning the decisions that you have made in your life?
Do you find that sometimes you need to rationalize said decisions in order to justify your position when someone asks you why you stand where you do?
Are you constantly searching for concrete examples of your rationalized reasons for your behavior?
If you are basically insecure in any way (like I am) having these concrete examples to fall back on gives one some reassurance that the correct decision has been, in fact, made.
These examples stand out as bold facts in the otherwise namby-pamby world of always questioning oneself.
Why did I leave New Jersey?
What am I running away from?
Can’t you just travel a bit?
Why does it have to be full-time?
Are you afraid of long-term commitments?
All of these, and countless more questions like these, beg for well thought out answers.
Here it is.
I have found the root solution to all of our collective wishy-washy, Charlie Brown, basic insecurities.
Yup!
It is as simple as that. There on the shelf sat these babies. Never seen them before, not sure if anyone else has anything like them. H.E.B. (our Texas based grocery chain) manufactures them themselves in their own facility.
Need I say more?
But there is still a reason to travel back east.
Gravy Master.
Seems that you cannot buy Gravy Master anywhere in the South. I have been through quite a few States down here so far with no luck in procuring any. Not even before Thanksgiving.
Down here gravy is White, you know, as in Biscuits and Gravy.
It is delicious, but not for turkey!
Alas, the quest continues, but at least I am now comfortable with my decisions and potato chips (So far) 😊
Would you go on a picnic to anywhere with the word Ant in it?
How about dinner?
We did.
In downtown Brenham, the seat of government in Washington County, there is a street named Ant Street. The genesis of the name escapes me, but on Ant Street you will find the Ant Street Inn. I guess the owners could not pass up an opportunity to cash in on such a bizarre name for their establishment.
Current View of The Ant Street Inn
Brenham, and Washington County in particular, is the “Birthplace of Texas”. It was here that in 1836, a group of “Texans” met to declare their independence from Mexico in a little ferry-crossing town down the road from Brenham by the name of Washington-on-the-Brazos.
Brenham is one of those towns that, through the decades, has been progressive-thinking and fortunate enough to move forward in time while embracing its past. The downtown Historic District of Brenham sparkles with period architecture while inside these buildings there are a proliferation of unique enough businesses to give Brenham a coveted spot in local destinations.
When it was brand-spankin’ new
All period architecture and very well kept appearances Old doors just screaming to be opened again
The Railroad still runs through town
Nice café on a side street, note the mural to the right. There are many murals painted on the sides of the buildings in Brenham.
Galleries, breweries, restaurants, inns, and retail shops are on practically every street in the District. Around Washington County you will find very nice lakes and parks and this region has some fine vineyards to add to its attraction. Just west of here, in the Hill Country, is where most of Texas’s wineries are located, but the spillover into this area gives a wine lover some nice choices to visit.
The homes in the surrounding area are typical Southwest. Sometimes you feel like you are in a third-world country and then you go around the bend and there in front of you is a ranch that makes Southfork on Dallas look like an ordinary development house.
Entrance to Mr. “B”s Ranch
Don’t get excited, this is only the garage
THIS is the house, complete with Lazy River pool complex in the backyard
JR would not be happy.
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But right down the road and actually on the other side of the tracks……
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And it seems that the western tradition of having some kind of gateway or signage over the driveway to proclaim the entrance to even just a regular home has been kept intact. Some of the ranches have quite the elaborate entranceway to their spreads. Cattle and oil, the Texas standards, are the money drivers around here. No surprise there!
Local residents
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Original Blue Bell Creamery building
But Brenham has at least one VERY IMPORTANT corporation that makes its home here.
Blue Bell Ice Cream!
Blue Bell Ice Cream is the third best selling brand in the USA and it is only available in 22 states. The Company started in Brenham in 1907. It is a premium ice cream, meaning high milkfats and low overrun (or air). Remember Tom Carvel on his commercials yelling in his raspy voice, “We use no air pumps!”. Well, that was his way of letting us know that his ice cream did not have any air pumped into it to increase yield. Overrun is an accepted ice cream manufacturing practice, but the more that is used, the less quality is the product and the manufacturers are regulated as to how they label their products, i.e. Premium, Super-Premium, and Ultra-Premium. Any of the regular store brand ice creams are generally about 50% air, which, obviously , is not premium.
Enough of Ice Cream 101!
Blue Bell been owned by the Kruse family for over a hundred years and back in the day, when they made their Cookies and Cream flavor, line workers would open up regular bags of Oreos , crush them, and then mix them into the process! A dedication to quality that lasts to this day. (But I am sure that they buy Oreos in bulk now!)
A visit to the creamery and the requisite sampling are must-dos for any visitor to the area. You can have as many samples as you would like (if you are willing to stand on line for a while 😊)
Back to Ant Street we go.
Authentic period antiques decorate the entire interior of the Inn
The Ant Street Inn is a Bed and Breakfast with 15 unique and (some haunted!) rooms. Stained glass and period antiques abound in this two-story 1899 building. It was originally built by the Schmid Brothers as the premier mercantile building in downtown Brenham. Now it is home to a business that sports the overnight rooms, a ballroom that can seat 250 guests, and a wonderful restaurant, The Brenham Grill. That is where we had dinner. The menu is somewhat eclectic, from Mom’s Meatloaf and several Italian dishes to Carne Asada and other Southwestern tidbits.
Self-Explanatory
All served in a Dining Room that has an authentic Old West style bar and incredible mid-room light source that defies the use of the word chandelier. We had a delightful evening and a very nice dinner. As you can see, the Ant Street Inn is just one of many reasons to visit Brenham and the surrounding area.
As I am a card-carrying arachnophobe, I do not know what we would have done had it been located on Spider Street!
Scene: Officers Jim Reed and Pete Malloy (Kent McCord / Martin Milner) in Squad Car patrolling streets on the outskirts of Corpus Christi, Texas. Usual banter between them when the radio crackles to life:
“One Adam -Twelve, see the man in the motorhome stuck under the Route 77 northbound underpass to Labonte Park.”
Reed:“Roger Dispatch, we’re on our way.” (Turning to Malloy) “Again?”
Malloy: (Shaking his head in disgust) “Jeez! When are these motorhome Bozos gonna learn that you can’t squeeze large solid objects under a low bridge? It’s not like there isn’t a sign there!”
Reed:“Yea, this’ll make it, what, three so far this week? I wish I had the local RV roof repair concession around here!”
Malloy: (Rolling his eyes) “Wonder what we’ll find this time, the last guy was going so fast he peeled it back like a can of sardines! Did you catch the look on his wife’s face? Boy was she pissed!”
Reed: (Laughing) “Yea, I’ll bet she made him get a third job just to pay for it!”
Malloy: (Pointing out of the windshield) “We’ll find out soon enough, there they are!
Reed and Malloy exit their squad car and peer up at the top of the motorhome which is now sporting a brand-new Sunroof. All of the satellite domes, A/C units, and antennae which were once sprouting proudly from the roof, are now deposited in a jumbled mess behind the motorhome.
Well, that’s TV for you, always exaggerating the specifics to get ratings! I guess that could have been the scenario, but as Sergeant Joe Friday would say, “Just the facts Ma’am, only the facts”, here is the true story of the “Close-Encounter of the Underpass Kind”.
We were travelling on Route 77, just north of Corpus Christi, Texas. It was getting close to lunchtime and it was time to switch drivers, so we started looking for places to pull into. Paula was driving and I was Navigator. Looking at the map and my Google app, I could see this Labonte Park coming up soon. I suggested that we use that for our stop. It was located on the other side of the road, but typically, these parks are accessible to both sides, so we watched for the signs. Sure enough, we immediately spied the usual brown “Park” type signage coming up. Getting into the right lane, more signs, ok, here is the ramp, nice straight exit bringing us down a sloping grade and running parallel to the highway for some time. We could see that we were going to be directed left and under the roadway to the Park on the other side.
It was a good thing that the road had a right-angle turn to it which basically brings us to a stop before making the turn because there in front of us was the Underpass. Not just any underpass mind you, it was the sinister looking one with plenty of pre-existing damage to its concrete and steel.
Grind to a halt.
Signage reads 12’ 6”
We are about 12’ 3’’
Should be able to clear it, but….
Ok, get your Geometry books out now, the approach to said underpass was not level! There was a small ramp getting into and out of it. We are 40’ long with the wheelbase shorter than that but if one set of tires is down and on level ground while the other set is still on higher ground, that actually increases our effective height! And besides, who did, and where from, were these measurements taken? Remember, these are the same people who did not bother to put up any Low Clearance signs before exiting the highway, and guess what?
It’s a One-Way ramp going down to this turn!
Trapped!
I got out of the motorhome to survey the situation. In the meantime, an older couple who were fishing at the end of the road by the underpass, were frantically waving their arms at us in an effort to stop us before we came to disaster. I exited the motorhome and the gentleman said to me,
”Yo gonna hafta call the Poeleece ta getcha backed up da ramp!”
We agreed.
No sense in even trying to get under it. Even with one person outside to eyeball it and other driving, it just was not worth it. So, onto the phone we went. Three transfers later we finally got to the correct dispatcher who handles the “Motorhomes stuck at a one-way dead end because thereis low clearance underpass and can’t get through” situations.
They all were very nice and it wasn’t too long before the Officer from the Corpus Christi Police Department showed up.
Grinning from ear to ear, he immediately put us at ease and even jokingly asked if I could do one of those high-speed J-turns that whip you around basically in the same spot. When he learned that Paula was driving at the time, his kidding got even more intense. Paula was a good sport about it and threw me “under the bus” because it was my suggestion that we come down this way. The Officer lamented to us that the State (isn’t it always the State?) D.O.T. does not have adequate signage on the highway warning everyone of a possible height issue.
So, we got a Police Escort back up the one-way ramp. He then blocked traffic so that I could execute a many faceted K, J, L, (pick a letter) turn and get onto the ramp to the highway. Then drove over the grass to get behind us (still with lights a-flashing) to help us get up to speed without being rammed from behind.
This officer was so pleasant and witty that we did not mind our short delay on our northbound journey.
It’s kind of crazy seeing this stuff in….. Texas??? It really feels like being on a Caribbean island somewhere on vacation!
This is the administration area of this KOA RV Park. They converted two giant water tanks into a Rec Center and their offices and Store.
The pool and hot tub area could not have been nicer. Clean as a whistle, great temps and, as you can see, WAY too crowded!
The Queen Isabela Causeway, the only way to get on to the Island by car.
Christos de Pescadores. If my high school Spanish doesn’t fail me this is Christ of the Fishermen. A memorial to the men who lost their lives commercially fishing out of the local port. You can see their plaques on the blocks surrounding the statue.
Paula soaking up the late afternoon sun on the deck in front of the motorhome.
Sunset from the restaurant overlooking the Marina where we had dinner.
Hope that you enjoyed these!
Leaving today to go back to Central Texas, (Road Trip!)
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous dealer prices, or to take arms against a sea of boredom, And, by 0pposing, try and figure out where to spend a few bucks while on a fixed income.
(In a) Hamlet (by-the-Sea) Act III Scene 1 (South Padre Island, Texas)
Bill borrowed this quote from me when he wrote probably his most famous work, Hamlet. He took it out of context and was trying to decide if Hamlet should live with all of his problems or just end it all.
I was talking about finally getting to retirement age, trying my best to keep busy, and having to eventually buy new tires for the motorhome.
His work went to press before mine, so he gets credit for a cool quotation. Such is life.
We were sitting on the deck of our “Site” at the KOA RV Resort on the southern tip of South Padre Island in Texas when my daughter, Lorelyn, called.
Lorleyn – “Hi there! Priority Z”
(We came up with this Priority System years ago because invariably Lorelyn would call me from wherever she was and when I would see her name pop up, get nervous that she needed some assistance. It seems like Lorelyn left home in 6th grade or something like that because she was always in some god-forsaken part of the world. Usually when she called, I was working, and the deal was if she got on the phone and said ‘Priority A, B, C,’ I would stop what I was doing and continue the call. If the Priority were ‘Z,’ then it could wait.)
Me – “Hi, we’re sitting on our deck under some palm trees, at a Resort on South Padre Island in Texas, looking at egrets in a mangrove marshland, while having some cheese and fruit.”
Lorleyn – “That’s what I always thought retirement was supposed to be, sounds like you finally got this thing down pat.”
Me – Pausing for a moment and looking over at Paula who smiled and nodded in agreement, “I think that you’re right, this is what it should be like!”
So here we are in sunny and tropical south Texas. This place reminds me of LBI. Not because of the palm trees and balmy breezes, but because it is a barrier island and we needed to go over a Causeway to get here. South Padre Island is the last island in the 100+ mile island chain on the Gulf of Mexico in southern Texas. If you embarked on a boat and sailed due east you would come ashore right around Naples, Florida after covering about 950 miles.
The RV Resort could not be any nicer. The place is spotless, the staff very friendly and helpful, and the setting is awesome! Water views all around, especially if your site is on the perimeter like ours is. This is a “pull-in” site (instead of the usual back-in) because all the views are forward-facing. We all have these gigantic windshields to look out of, so why not utilize them! On top of that, each site has its own deck complete with patio furniture. The palm trees add a little shade as the sun marches across the sky. Our “neighbors” are nice, we’ve had small conversations with them so far, you know, “Where’re ya from?” and motorhome talk, things like that. I can see where we would get to know them a bit better if we were to stay for an extended length of time. Walking around and looking at other motorhomes is fun too. Newer, older, classics, they are all here. Seeing what people bring with them for outside/patio use has been informative also.
Snowy (?) Egrets and other birds abound
This would be the kind of place that one would try (try being the operative word here) to book for an extended stay over the colder months. The “Snowbird” life as it were. I have not yet asked if there are any open slots in their reservations for this year, but I suspect that they are probably booked solid. But no harm in asking. This place is about a seven-hour drive from Brenham. We did it in two days to break it up a bit. We find that if we leave sometime in the afternoon, drive for a few hours, and then find the local Wal-Mart lot or Harvest Hosts to spend the night, and continue the next day, that it makes the trip a lot more enjoyable. We figure that we realistically need to add about 15 minutes to every hour that a trip would take by car. So, a 4-hour car trip is about 5 hours for us. If the driving is all highway, then it is closer in time.
This area has all the things to do that a seaside resort has to offer. Tiki-bars, bike rentals, surf shops, golf cart rentals, (not for golf mind you, but for transportation. These forward-thinking areas have decided that having tons of golf carts zooming around is far better than having tons of cars zooming around. Much like the retirement villages that abound in Florida and Arizona.) There are also way too many good-looking restaurants to patronize in our short stay. Hence, we need to come back!
That is one of the conundrums of retirement on that aforementioned dirty phrase, Fixed Income. One of the advantages of dragging your home around with you to environs such as this, is that you get to have your meals “at home” which we all know is a lot less expensive than going out for them. But it is a lot less fun also. Balancing the going out vs. staying in has become a favorite pastime. Coming from the restaurant business and serving folks for the last hundred years or so, I find it wonderful to go out and have someone else serve me! Not only that, but I revel in a well-run establishment. I thoroughly enjoy just sitting there and absorbing the heartbeat, rhythm, and cacophony of sounds that you can only appreciate if you have been in the business. All of you Chatterbox folks know what I am talking about!
So, Restaurant Reviews by Paula and Don will be forthcoming as they (and funds) become available!
Meanwhile we will be squirreling away a few sheckles for those new tires!
These were the words uttered by the grocery clerk who bagged our order down at the H.E.B. grocery store, an exceptionally large, family owned and operated grocery chain and food manufacturer here in Texas. Uttered may be the wrong verb to use here because he said it clearly, with that “look you in the eye” confidence that can only come from someone who means what they say.
We “utter” those types of farewells back in the East also:
“See ya”
“Ciao” (I have never met an Italian who said this to me)
“Peace out” (I have said this only to younger co-workers who just grin and shake their heads at me)
“Toodles” (to be used after having Brunch at an up-scale café)
“Hasta la vista!” (you can only use this one only if you can imitate Arnold’s accent and if you want to feel extra cool, pause and add ‘baby’ to the end of it.)
And the ever popular, I’m just saying this because my company policy says I have to, “Thank you for shopping at Walmart, have a nice day”
Not one of these farewell expressions comes close to a “good-bye” spoken by someone with one of those wonderful southern accents. Make no mistake about it, Southern Hospitality is a genuine, every day, reach out and touch you, way of life down here. There is no question that the pace of life is a tad slower when you get away from the Northeast. Even when piloting the grocery cart in the store it is noticeable. At Shop-Rite, you’d best have your shoulder pads and gear on when going in on a busy day to do battle with the masses.
Not here.
I am almost embarrassed when I think that I have accidentally cut some one off or pass them on the way to the register. Everyone lets the other person go first. There is no battling for position. Just give way with a smile and a nod. And it is s l o w e r , sometimes maddingly so, until you realize that all is good, people are friendlier, and we will all get finished in due time.
It is not a race.
Here.
Back in New Jersey, it is a badge of honor when you can take down the person with the large order and beat them to the check-out lane.
Ha! I won!
Let’s go back to accents. We all know what a Southern accent sounds like. Most of the time we only get an exaggerated form of it while watching television or a comedy sketch. To listen to this type of speech is like listening to butter melt on a serving of homemade mashed potatoes. I could listen to Loretta Lynn recite the phone book and would not care one little bit. Maybe if I am lucky, I can pick up a few stray syllables and work them into my speech patterns. Alas, probably not, I have been back East for too long. We have accents back East, all as colloquial as they come.
Boston, Brooklyn, Maine, Joisey……
Joisey….. New Joisey?
Did you know that no one in New Jersey has that accent, we don’t say Joisey. It is one of those annoying, pervasive things that get hung on anyone from New Jersey. But that’s ok, we can take it. My daughter has tee-shirt that she wears . She lives in Durango, Colorado. The shirt has emblazoned on it:
New Jersey
Only the Strong Survive
When folks ask her about it her reply is, “If I have to explain it, you won’t get it.”
Her other favorite is,
Welcome to New Jersey
Now Get Out!
A far cry from Southern Hospitality, wouldn’t you say?
But we do have an accent,
The other day when we were down visiting Emma at the Voter Registration Office, Emma’s co-worker looked up from her desk and said to Paula,
The nice lady looked up from our papers, smiled, and said ,
”Vota Registration…. now y’all jes go down the hall to the Eeelection Board and see Emma, she’ll take good care of ya “……
She paused for a moment then continued,
“Oh ma Heavens! They’re all jammed up ‘cause early votin’s starten today! Y’all never get near the place! Y’all have ta come back after the eeelections are ova.”
I haven’t applied for a driver license in 48 years so I guess I don’t have a lot of experience in this regard.
That was in New Jersey.
This is Texas.
At the risk of offending my new neighbors I will confess that I just do not get their system.
Let me explain,
Apparently, you need to register a vehicle in Texas before you can apply for a Drivers License. What if you don’t have a vehicle?
Are you not allowed to have a license?
We figured that we would apply to transfer our licenses and title the motorhome at the same time.
Nope.
License plates are handled by the County Tax Offices and Driver Licenses are dispatched from the Texas Division of Public Safety.
Not even closely related.
Down we went to the County Tax Office and tried to register the motorhome and get a Texas Title. We were told that we need to prove residency. You know, mail at your address, utility bills, leases, or some other land ownership papers. This is all well and good, but we hadn’t received any forwarded mail yet, nor are we leasing anything or have any utility bills!
So, we thanked the nice lady in the Tax Office and tucked our papers back into our little folder, walked down the hallway, (past Emma and her long line) and back outside the Courthouse.
Pausing out on the street and staring at the end of the very long “early voting” line we realized that all of the official stuff that we needed to do would have to be postponed.
But who cares?
No one!
It’s Covid Time!
Extensions are handed out like tissues in kindergarten after recess on a chilly day.
So we didn’t worry (or “fret none” in the local parlance). We proceeded with our plans and went out the next day in search of what would eventually end up as is our Honda CRV. When we bought the Honda, the salesman, Javier, (you remember him) told us that the Dealership handles all of the titling aspects of the deal, we practically jumped for joy! Maybe we could “back” our way into a registration! If all we need was a registration to get our license, then we were golden!
Not so fast there Pecos Pete!
What we did not know was that it would take 4 weeks for this to transpire and in the meantime, they lost our ”tags” (license plates are called tags down south) and registration. We decided to push on and since Eeelection Day had passed we decided to go and give Emma a visit.
Nice ol’ lady bless her heart. She handed us a form each to fill out. Name, address, and the last 4 digits of our Social Security numbers.
That’s it?
No proof of where we live?
No credit card bills, leases, or utility bills?
A note from our parents?
Nothing???
Nope.
She just handed us our new Voter Registration Cards which proved that we were residents of these here parts.
So we did what any self-respectin’, varmint kickin’ new resident would do.
We went down the hall to the nice lady in the Tax Office and armed with our new Official Pieces of Paper, registered our motor home in the Great State of Texas!
I am not sure that the place that we call home in Texas has a name so I will need to come up with one.
It has critters, so Farm will be in the name. It is in Brenham, Texas and its address is Aspen Circle, both nice sounding but nothing special. I could use the ever-present Texas monikers, such as: Bluebell, Yellow Rose, or Lone Star, but I am fairly sure that those have been claimed already.
The one thing that those other places do not have is Madison. Madison (or Maddie) is the four-year-old granddaughter of Paula, daughter of the proprietors, Danny (Paula’s son) and Kaitie (whose full name is Caitlin but prefers Kaitie with a K). Madison’s parents own the place, but it is Maddie who runs it, so let us go with,
Madison Farm and Trampoline Park
Kaitie, Danny, and Madison
This is one of our three bases of operation, the others being Tomboy Farm in Durango, Colorado (you have already met them) and of course Sussex County, New Jersey. We have a genuinely nice “pad” (in RV terms) or defined space for us here. It is right next to the corral which, at the moment, has two pregnant goats in it. The goat population is destined to explode soon as these ladies are scheduled to drop at least two kids each.
We shall see.
Bailey guarding her favorite Dog Bed
Bailey, the canine member of the family, patrols her perimeters with a definite purpose, (she has dispatched more than her share of coyotes, scorpions, snakes, and the like) yet is one of the most easy-going dogs that I have ever met. There were chickens and a horse here, their stories will be told a little later.
Our “Pad” in Texas
Danny and Kaitie are Ex-Marines. Let me expand on that for a moment and correct myself. The proper term is actually former Marine, not ex-Marine. When I read this post to Danny and Kaitie before I published it, they corrected me on that issue. It seems that you are never an Ex-Marine. Once you are a Marine, you are always a Marine.
I like that.
I find it interesting that it seems that no one except the Marines are habitually described as former or “ex-“. This is not in any way to be construed as anything negative about any of our other fine military branches. It is just something that I have picked up on over the years. It would seem that it, in itself, is a fine tribute to the Corps.
In the case here in Texas, the service of both Danny and Kaitie proudly comes shining through. Kaitie had a tour in Iraq and Danny had a total of four tours, two in Afghanistan and two in Iraq. They obviously met in the Service, it was in San Diego at Camp Pendleton.
There is not much that can faze these two.
Texas is a good State to settle in for Veterans. There are a multitude of advantages for Military Service Members here including something as innocuous as a reduced fee for auto registration and driver’s licenses. It is not that they get a reduced rate, it is that the difference of what they pay, and the full rate is funded by voluntary donations from their fellow Texans.
Kind of nice, isn’t it?
A few years ago, Danny ran for their State Assembly. The field was crowded and at this point he was probably considered an outsider, but his showings at the polls indicated otherwise. The other candidates genuinely liked him and even courted him a bit for alliances as the process continued. He has stayed active in the local politics with the idea of re-surfacing sometime in the future.
In the meantime, Danny and Kaitie work on the “Pipeline.” The pipeline is generic term used for any number of projects that are ongoing in the Midwest. They can be in Kansas, Iowa, Minnesota, (you get the idea) but not Alaska! Sometimes they are close together, sometimes they are extremely far apart. But the opportunity to stash some cash while Madison was not in school yet was definitely tempting. Even when Maddie goes to school, one of them will still probably take a turn or two on the line. Danny is an electrical inspector, while Kaitie is a welding inspector, those are their specialties. In reality, they both are Code Inspectors and have wide-ranging oversights on the projects that they are assigned to.
Someone has to make sure that the work is done correctly!
They work about seven months out of the year and spend the rest (winter) down here in the moderate weather of mid-Texas working on improving Madison Farm and Trampoline Park.
Danny and Kaitie’s Farm HouseThe back yard of Madison Farm
Over the years, the improvements have been substantial, not that the place needed a ton of work mind you. The house is a 1940’s farmhouse that is solidly constructed of oak, which there is a plethora of around here. Updated bathroom, appliances, some really nice wooden siding work along with new wall insulation, are just a few of the projects. A barn was added, Danny cleared the land for a corral, dug all the holes and erected the posts for a dandy white fence that surrounds it all.
Maddie and The Momma Goats, Abby and Chones, in the corral
Anyone whose has lived on a farm will tell you that the chores and up-keep are never ending. Danny has done 95% of the work himself, only hiring a contractor when absolutely necessary. Kaitie is the Animal Husbandry side of the team. Kaitie grew up in Cheyenne, Wyoming probably the most Cowboy (Girl) friendly town in the West. Witness the annual Frontier Days that are a prerequisite if you are any kind of a rider. Kaitie was involved with this, she ran Barrels, Keyhole, and other riding events on her horse, Princess. Princess and Kaitie had each other for company for about 17 years. Sadly, Princess went to that Big Rodeo in the Sky just this past year. But soon there will be some more four-legged animals in the corral because arrangements have been made for two small horses (a mom and her daughter) to come live here. Can Maddie’s riding lessons be far behind? There were some chickens here at one time, but Chicken Hawks, racoons, and other varmints took their turns at ravaging the flock. And besides, they require daily care and when Danny and Kaitie are on the pipeline that is impossible. While Danny and Kaitie are up there, the goats get to go to a Goat Resort (a friend’s farm) where they must have had a good time because they are now expecting their twins.
Maddie is as effervescent as any four-year-old could be. She goes to Dance, MMA, and Cheering which are all located (thankfully) in the same building as her pre-school which she attends at least two days a week. The trampoline in their back yard provides endless hours of entertainment for her. Unfortunately, Maddie really likes it when someone else (but there are only adults living around here) is in there with her. So far, I have escaped being asked to go jumping around with her in the trampoline.
The Trampoline Park
Requisite Longhorn Steer Skull
As I write this Danny is prepping for some more sidewalk work that will connect the various areas of the farm (and it is headed in this direction!) This helps tremendously with keeping mud, etc. out of the house. I told him that a nice, RV sized, concrete pad with a fire pit would be a great addition over here.
