Keeper of Secrets

The original reason I started this blog was to tell my children stories of my childhood. This is one of those stories.........

I am 7 years old dancing in the back yard. I spread my arms wide and the soft red silk of the kimono sleeves hangs down from my arms like wings. I spin around and around, as the sun shines down on me and the bright colors. I am a butterfly dancing in the wind.

My grandmother had gotten this kimono out of her cedar chest. She had a cedar chest in her room and it was full of mysterious surprises and secrets. We are never allowed to go into her room and open it up without her. But this day she has opened it and she had taken these precious things out.  Some kimonos and a flag from Japan. The flag had a big red circle in the middle of it.

All these things were mysterious to us. We lived in a little town in north Louisiana and we didn’t know any Asians. Our first Asian exposure would come later with Hop Sing on Bonanza. Yes, very mysterious things.

(Photo - me in my normal attire)

We were told by our grandmother and our mother that these things were sent back from the war by my Uncle Buddy who was killed in World War II. I didn’t think of it at the time as I was very young but later when I was older I thought it strange for several reasons.  For one thing Uncle Buddy was in Europe not Japan. He was in General Patton’s army and was killed there. He is buried overseas in France. I didn’t think he had ever been to Japan.

Also I could not understand why my grandmother would let us play with things her son had sent home from the war. Buddy was her only son, my mother’s only brother.  These things should have been too precious to be turned over to kids for dress-up play. It seems to me there was a sword in a scabbard also but it may be that my memory is not correct on that. I wouldn't have been allowed to play with it, but I have a picture in my mind of my older brother looking at a sword as I stand over his shoulder.

We played with the kimonos and the flag until they were tattered and thrown out. And as I got older that was the biggest point of confusion for me. Why did they let us destroy these things from Japan, these souvenirs my uncle had sent home? But I never asked about them. I’m not sure why.

Years later when I was grown and had my own children I was at my Dad’s mother’s house. Grandma Hattie told me she had something for me. She went into the bedroom and came back with a small white box. Maybe 4 x 5 inches in size. She opened it up. It was lined with soft white silk cloth. She took out the silk handkerchief that was in the box and spread it on the table. You could tell it had been in the box a while; it had creases set into the silk. On the handkerchief was a painting of my mother. I had never seen this before although I had seen the photograph it was copied from. My mother was young and beautiful, her blonde hair long and curly. There was a signature of the Japanese artist that had painted the portrait.

Grandma Hattie told me that Mama had given this to my grandfather many years ago and that she wanted me to have it. I asked her where it came from. She said my mother’s first husband had had it painted in Japan when he was there during the war.

The first thought I had was that the mystery of the kimonos was solved. These treasures had not been sent home by my Uncle Buddy. They had been sent to my mother from her husband while he was in Japan. That is why my grandmother and mother let us play with them. They were not as precious to them as they would have been had they come from a lost son and brother.

I didn’t know my mother had been married before. As it turned out none of my siblings did except my older brother and his wife. Grandma Hattie had told him shortly before she told me.

I’m not sure why Mama would not have ever told us. It wouldn't have made any difference in our lives or in the way we thought of her except to maybe surprise us that our mom had a life outside of us! It was just another layer of the woman she was. But my mother was a keeper of secrets. And until she died my brother and I kept the secret with her. I felt it was not my secret to tell and I guess my brother felt the same. I waited for her to one day bring it up. She never did.

But I sometimes thought about this young man that my mother had married. She came from a very small town in Louisiana. There were only 13 kids in her high school graduation class. Sometimes you marry who is available; not necessarily who is suited for you. I wondered if he had survived the war. Did he have a family that would have wanted the kimonos we so childishly played with? Was he a nice person or a bully? Did he find a true love like my mom found with my dad?

Did the photograph of my mom he carried in his wallet comfort him during horrible times of the war, so young and so far from that very small Louisiana town? I hope so.

(Photo - me, Mama, and my sister Kathy)

One day my brother and I were visiting with my mom and he asked her where she met our dad. She said they went to school together. He said he didn’t know that. That’s because they didn’t go to school together; they met at a church function when they were grown. My mom’s mind had confused the memories in her life and she was talking about the boy from Epps, Louisiana. Your mind takes trips back in time when you live with Alzheimer’s.

Shortly before our mom passed away, I told my other siblings what Grandma Hattie had told me. Mama had kept her secret but it didn’t matter to any of us. We all keep our own secrets.

And it mattered not one bit to the little 7 year old butterfly with the bright red silk wings dancing in the wind.

Green acres is the place for me!

Last week it was a warm sunny day; I was outside shooting my shotgun at a sign that I was trying to add some character to. I managed to hit it a few times once I remembered I tend to aim high and lowered my sights! Which means if you are a burglar I will shoot you in the head if I'm aiming at your knee, so look out!) I went inside to put the shotgun up and get the drill to hang the sign on the garden shed and one of those “blue northers” Texas is famous for blew in! Just that quick the temps dropped and over the next few days we had a total of 4” of rain!

The cistern was overflowing and the draws were up and running. It’s been about 20 years since I saw this much water in the draws, although I am sure it was that way the few times we got multiple inches of rain. I just wasn’t here.

The day we got the most rain it was cold and windy and still drizzling but after I fed the longhorns I just had to go see for myself what it was like. So I grabbed my cedar walking stick, the one that has been worn smooth for the 20+ years I have been using it, and my phone so I could take videos and headed down toward the back of our place. I also like to carry my phone in case I break my leg and need to call for help! Not that that would help if I was at the bottom of the hill with “no service”. But we can’t let these things slow us down or we would never have any fun!

There is a big draw that runs across the back of our property. Years ago when we got more rain than we do now the springs back there flowed and kept pools of water here and there. We refer to this draw as the creek, though it is not technically a creek. It flows into a creek down from us and calling it a creek is easier than trying to explain what draw we are talking about. Several draws on our place feed into this dry creek. 

(Photo above is wild Verbena that covers the pastures now. And a scary looking prickly pear.)

Our property is high and flat on the front area beside the road. This continues back past the cabin and ends in a high cliff with the creek below it. But one side of our place doesn’t end in this cliff. The ground slopes away down to the creek. It is beautiful back there and one of my favorite places. There are huge rocks and the ground kind of steps down with the big boulders forming shelves as the ground descends. There is also a road that winds around behind us. The big draw/creek comes down from property across from the back of ours, crossing the road and making a turn to run all along our property from side to side. One side of the draw on the other side of the road from us is a high cliff and one side is low. It is rugged and beautiful.

(Video - Grab your tubes, kids!)

Well, mercy me, we had a flowing river back there! The water was coming from a couple of draws we had and it was coming from across the road. These flows joined together and if I had had a tube, I could have jumped in! The sound was as beautiful as the sight!

Our place is fenced before the creek even though it is on our property here. You can’t fence a creek and have any expectation of the fence staying there when it rains, so our fences across the back are placed before you get to the creek. There are two “water gap” fences on each side of our place and one in the middle at a cross fence running from front to back. The one on the cliff side hangs in the air way above the creek. The one on the sloping side hangs above the mouth of the draw feeding into the creek. The one in the middle hangs about a foot or two above the creek bed. That is the one that will get you if you did jump in with a tube!

I walked all along the creek taking videos. I saw a whitened deer skeleton on the other side of the fence on a piece of grassy land above the creek under some cedars. Then I wanted to see the other side of the cross fence where the bed widens and then continues under the cliff. So I forgot I was old and climbed the cross fence, ducked under some cedar trees and came out on the banks of the creek right where it widens. It was rolling and muddy; there is a lot of silt in this section. It was several feet deep; from looking at the cross fence I would say it was probably 4 feet deep here.

From here I climbed away from the creek back up to the level of the cliff. There was a beautiful area by the cross fence where the rocks and clear water formed a little waterfall. Once I got to the top I walked back to an area that has an overlook of the whole creek and road.

It was amazing! After the drought of the last few years, and especially the last year, it was a sight to make you laugh and cry at the same time. If you live in a place with lots of rainfall, I’m not sure you can understand the excitement, but boy howdy, it was enough to make dry country people holler "yeehaw"!

The next day I went back to the cliff in the rain to see what was left. It was smaller and clearing up but still had water flowing. I was hearing some thunder around so didn’t tarry long. The following day the rain cleared and the sun came out. I got my walking stick and went back to the sloped side. There was now a small stream of water and it was crystal clear, crossing the road and bubbling and falling down the slope over huge flat rocks. The cedar smell filled the clear air. I could have stayed there forever.

Again I climbed the cross fence and then waded into the water where the bed widens out. It was clear and about 6 inches deep. I wanted to get to the upper part of the creek but the cross fence over the water was in the way. I might could have gotten under it in a section that is bent up but I am clumsy and figured it would involve getting wet. So I climbed up the opposite bank where there is another fence that marks our boundary. This one is barbed wire so I went through it with only a couple of snags! This put me out on the road. I walked back in the direction I had originally come from and enjoyed the beauty of it all. I was alone and the only sound was the water bubbling. Then I went back into the creek bed and climbed the fence there back into our place and eventually headed back to the cabin. And made a note that we need to add a gate or two back there!

(Photo below - this small yellow flower is everywhere. It looks like paint has spilled over the land.)

Everything is so green with all this rain. Small wildflowers cover the ground; it is a carpet of yellow and white and purple. In the garden the first bluebonnets are blooming; the ones outside the garden have not started yet but they are growing. The trees are putting out tiny leaves, even the live oaks that haven’t had leaves for the last year. The longhorns are grazing once more in the pastures, a sight we had almost given up on seeing again. They have gone 20 months without anything green to eat. We are talking about not buying any more hay once what is in the hay barn is gone. Just buying the sweet feed we always feed them.

In another lifetime I knew a preacher that used to sing “Showers of Blessings” at the top of his lungs every time it rained. This week the mercy drops round us have been falling. Life is good out here in the Texas Hill Country.

(Photo below is an Evening Primrose. The yard is full of them and they open at twilight and face the setting sun. The next morning they are turned toward the East to greet the rising sun, as if they have followed the sun through the night. And maybe they have.)

Spring has sprung!

Rickie and I sat on the swing just as sunset was nearing. The temp was dropping as the day ended. He was covered up with a soft fleece throw our daughter-in-law Lisa had made for him several years ago. I had a crocheted throw Lisa made for me for Christmas year before last. It is all my favorite colors and she worked on it off and on for a year. We were warm wrapped in these gifts and talked about how Lisa had made them for us and the time and care she invested. The clouds to the southwest were pink from the sitting sun and we stayed there until it began to get dark. (Photo was taken before we cut cedars down to open view.)

We had spent the day cutting some cedar and enlarging our view from the back yard. Sitting in the swing we could see back the 12 miles to town. There are some communication towers there and we could see 4 of them blinking with their red lights, and another one partially hidden by a big oak tree down the hill. There is a big hill you come down as you enter the Llano River valley and we could see that hill. it is a beautiful view; a million dollar view, as they say! Of course we didn't pay a million dollars for it!

I now have several piles of cedar to burn. The other day I burned the last of the piles I had at that time. Woodrow and Gus love a fire and had to come check it out. Woodrow would almost walk into a burning fire! I don't know why but he is especially drawn to one. Later that afternoon after the fire had burned down and I had sprayed water on it, I saw him standing in the middle of it. I am pretty sure it was still warm but he had to find out for himself!

A couple of days ago Rickie and I went around cutting little cedars down. He has a small chain saw he is trying out. His big one is heavy and upon our neighbor Scott's recommendation he added a small one to his tool box for the smaller cedars. I use my long handled loppers for little ones. I found a huge claret cup cactus on the rock shelf going down the hill. When it blooms it will be covered with red flowers.We have a big one in a pot on the porch but this one was two times as big, at least! We will keep checking on it to see it when it blooms.

I went back to the dry creek or wash that runs across the back of our property. There were small pools of water and it bubbled and ran in the area beneath the cliff after the rains we had last week. It used to do that all the time the first 10 years we had our place. When Natalie was little she told me how she had drank the water that bubbled up from the rocks! There is a type of frog that buries itself in the sand and goes into suspended animation in times of drought. It emerges when it is wet and we can hear them from the cabin. It has been years since we heard them. As we sat on the porch yesterday I wondered aloud if we would ever hear them again. I hope so.

One day last week we let the longhorns into the yard. There is some fresh green grass and we knew they would enjoy it. It has been a while since we let them in; they are so big now. They were excited and did some running, jumping, and head bumping to show their joy!

This morning there were some yellow evening primroses blooming in the yard. When we were kids in north Louisiana we called a variety of these buttercups. These open up in the late afternoon and follow the sun. This morning they were facing the sun to the east and closed up shortly after we saw them. With the drought we didn't have much in the way of wildflowers last year so I hope this is a sign of a better year. So far it looks promising! There are wild bluebonnets all over the place.

It was a beautiful weekend and we spent every moment we could outside in the perfect Spring-time Hill
Country weather. We often get a late freeze or two and have had snow at Easter before. But right now I just want to go to the nursery and buy spring flowers to plant!

All is calm, all is bright

I woke up at 4:00 am Monday. It is always quiet out here but after the snowfall we had Sunday the quiet and stillness seemed more so. Looking out the front window the ice crystals on the ground sparkled in the reflection of the yard light. There was a little doe eating the birdseed on the ground under the front feeder. She heard me raise the shade and turned to look at me. It was a beautiful scene and I wished my life could always be this peaceful. 


The sleet started Sunday morning shortly after Rickie left to head back to work. It soon turned to snow. Big fat beautiful flakes. Birds seemed to appear from everywhere. A flock of juncos that has been here a couple of weeks. House finches. A couple of squirrels. All eating the seed I put on the ground under the back sunflower seed feeder, by the water tank in the yard, and under the finch feeder in the side yard. They chattered away as they fueled up to better endure the cold temperature.

I put my winter gear on and went out to take some photos. Usually this will send the birds and squirrels all scattering but they mostly ignored me. When my hands started to freeze, I returned to the cabin and added another log to the fire. A little house finch came and sat on the windowsill, all fluffed up and trying to get out of the snow. I had scared him off earlier when I opened the front door. He had been perched above it on the door frame. 

Later as the snow increased, I bundled up again and took more photos. I fed the longhorns, giving them extra feed and hay. They don’t have a barn to go into so they need to get that furnace going in their body and the feed and hay fuels that. I debated whether to put some old hay we have out on an area they sometimes sleep in but decided there were warmer places deeper in the woods and they know where they are. 

I also put out more birdseed at all the feeding spots and threw some corn out for the deer and some milo out for the doves and the turkeys I am hoping will return. I busted up the ice on the water tanks so the longhorns could drink. I refilled the wood box on the back porch and pulled it closer to the door. It is a short but cold trip out on the porch when the fire needs more wood! I thought I would shorten it.

Coming inside, I built up the fire and settled down with my book, thinking I was in for the night. Then I remembered the water lines to the longhorns’ water tanks. They froze last year when we were not here, even though we had the water off and had drained the cabin. Rickie had added some ball valves where we can drain these lines and there is a cutoff to the lines that leaves the water to the cabin on.

So once more I bundled up and went out to turn that water off and drain the lines in the ground and those going up the side of the tanks. I was relieved that the water drained and had not frozen yet! Whew! We had 5 breaks last year in these lines. My dad who was a plumber, and my husband who thinks I am a capable person, would both figure I could fix a break if no one else was around but it wasn’t something I wanted to do. Especially since I should have thought of it earlier!

The snow had stopped and it was sleeting a little again. I returned to the fireside and my book. The world outside my windows was covered in white. The only sounds were the fire crackling and the birds chattering. We only get snow a couple of times a year and I wished it had come a day earlier so Rickie could have seen it. He will have to settle for the videos and photos I took. 

Snow is also a fleeting thing out here. The next day we were back in the 60s and the snow melted away by noon. The magic was gone along with the illusion that the world is a peaceful place where people leave the comfort of their easy chair and the warm fire to make sure the beings they share the earth with are fed and safe. We lost something of ourselves when we left this kind of life behind and I’ve often thought since I came here to stay that if people would live a life closer to the earth, things would be different with them. I am grateful for the opportunity I have to be here. And for these silent nights, holy nights I share with a little doe while the snow and ice sparkles around us.

Bald Eggs and Boiled Eagles

My friend Mitzie told me the other day that she has been watching some bald eagles on the lake where she lives. (Photo - Mitzie's back yard on the lake.) It reminded me of a phrase I have been carrying around for 20 years, hoping one day to use as a book title. That would require me writing a book and I'm not sure that will happen. The book would, of course, be about Southern women.

I mentioned my co-worker Terese in a previous post. She had a beautiful soft Southern way of speaking, the kind of voice you would hear in Charleston. She never hurried her conversation and it was like listening to a song being sung.

One day at lunch she said she had brought some "bald" eggs to eat. Our boss, Joe, walked in at that time and his face said "what are bald eggs; I've never heard of those?" Upon seeing she had boiled eggs, he made the remark that if it was bald eggs, it must be boiled eagles! I filed the phrase away in my mind and it always makes me smile.

I Got Here As Fast As I Could

When Sarah was 7 years old we purchased our place in the Texas Hill Country. We had spent 2 years searching; following up all leads we got from the small town newspapers we subscribed to. Originally we were only looking for 5 acres but ended up with 54. Things happen that way sometimes!

I had been working part time and when we purchased the property I went to work full time to help pay for it. I worked in a small office with a couple of women. One, Terese, was very nice and the other, Cathy, was somewhat annoying. She prided herself on being a “native Texan” and never let a chance go by to look down her nose at me for not being born in Texas. I should have pointed out to her that William Travis, Jim Bowie, and Davy Crockett had not been born here either, but I didn’t think of it at the time.

(Photos - John  and Zac canoeing on Llano with Rickie; Lisa and Larry on Copperas Creek near Roosevelt)

Why this mattered to her, I don't know. But she considered herself Texan and me not.  She had one flaw in her claim to Texas over me though, in my opinion. She had never been outside the Houston area. She liked her subdivision only and had no love of the actual true heart of Texas. When my friend Terese and I would talk about the Hill Country, she would wrinkle up her nose. She had no love of the hills, and the plants, and the clear water, and the rocks! She liked her concrete and her Homeowner’s Association rules.

(Photo - Llano River at Yates Crossing)

Terese said something to us one day that has stuck with me. She said either you are drawn to the Hill Country or you are not. And those of us that are drawn to it can never explain it to the others or convince them of the beauty of it.

I consider myself lucky to be a person that is drawn to a certain area. Some people say they have no idea where they would live if they could live anywhere. I find that sad.

From the first time I went to the Hill Country, I was hooked. The clear air, the way it feels on your skin, the way the colors are brighter and clearer. The limestone and the way it tints the water of the Llano aqua colored. The whiteness of the limestone in the hills and the smell of caliche in the air. The far views, the beautiful sunsets, the live oaks and mesquites. The history of it and the culture of it and the toughness of the people and wildlife that inhabit it. My heart soars when I look out upon it. I pine away for it when I’m not there.  We would do anything in our power to have a place there and Rickie and I have sacrificed much in other areas of our life to make it happen.


(Photo - Nat, Sarah, and Lexi at Barton Springs in Austin)

There are other places I could live but they all have the same physical qualities. They are dry and have hills and plants that stick! They embody the westerners sense of independence and are a little bit wild, so that if you wandered off you might not make it back. If you are out of one of the cities they look a lot like they did 200 years ago.

My friend Myra feels this way about the Montana she calls home as does my mom-in-law Dot about her beloved Mississippi. And my sister Jackie about living near the coast. My cousin’s husband Ralph took us on a john boat tour of the bayou in South Louisiana one time and we saw the land through his eyes, the land he loved.

I hope you have a place you feel this way about whether it is in the country or the city. Someplace that you know you would pick if anyone asked you where would you live if you could live anyplace. And if you don't, I hope you go out and find that place!


"Land really is the best art." Andy Worhol

How does your garden grow?

Rickie and I spent a few hours working in the garden Saturday. The weather was perfect. 70s and sunny!


(Photo - Rick waters a sunflower that has survived the winter)

Rickie pruned his grapes. We are hoping for a better year than the last one. We had so few grapes last summer that we left them all for the birds. They needed them more than we did. Maybe we will have enough this year for a small batch of wine or some jelly.

We lost one of our two oldest peach trees to the drought and Rickie cut it down. It was almost 20 years old. These two peach trees were the first things we planted in the garden. I had gone to Kerrville to the Golden Eagle Nursery and purchased two Red Globe peaches while Rickie was installing a drip irrigation system. This variety has proven to be well suited to the Hill Country, but is now impossible to find. Growers seem to like tinkering with plants even when they don’t need it. We have added other varieties through the years but none have done as well as these two. One survived the summer and Rickie will add a new tree so that we can continue to have peaches. He’s a good plant researcher so I’m sure he will come up with something that will at least have a shot of producing!

Rickie left the tree trunk of the dead peach tree standing with the main branches cut short. Maybe Bixby will use it for his first climbing tree! Jeremy, who is now 15, was the only grandchild that was a tree climber! He liked to climb up the crooked trunks of the oak trees out here. 


(Photo - Jeremy back when he was a tree climber)

Rickie also planted some giant cabbage plants. The picture on the plants showed a baby next to them and the cabbage was that big. We’ll see how that works out here in dry country! Ha! 


(Photo - Sarah and a cabbage about 25 years ago)

As a nod to his Mississippi heritage, he planted some crimson clover in one area of the pasture and also some in a pot on the porch for me. It is a beautiful sight to see the highway a solid red when the clover blooms in Mississippi!

I continued with the weeding I started this week. The winter weeds were getting out of control! While Rickie and I both like a weed free garden it bothers me more than him. I believe it has to do with our childhood garden experiences. He was raised in the country and had a gigantic garden! His dad worked out of town during the week and his mom was left to take care of the house, garden, and cows with help from the kids. She worked full time and the kids, of course, were in school. So it was impossible to keep the garden weed free. Even if his dad had been there it would have been a full time job to weed. The purpose of the garden was to feed the family, not so much to be neat and weed free. So Rickie is not overly obsessive about the order of the garden. His love is the plants.

We lived in a small town in a duplex and my grandparents lived on one side of the duplex and us on the other. My grandfather, Papa, had been a farmer and was semi-retired. We had a big garden in the back of the yard, but it was not as big as the one Rickie’s family had. We supplemented our harvest by purchasing additional butterbeans, purple hull peas, cream peas, and corn from other growers. But still, it was a good size and Papa planted it full of good things! He never had a blade of grass growing in the rows and it was a beautiful garden. He always planted some giant sunflowers at one end just for the beauty of them. They towered over my head and were my favorite thing in the garden! He was a harsh man in a lot of ways and it always amazes me the love he had for flowers and plants. He was always taking me out to look at different flowers and plants in the yard.

(Photo - My sisters Jackie and Deb on the trimmed sidewalk!)

I have been scanning old family photos and one thing in the way of gardening stands out in my mind as I look at not only my photos but Rickie’s family photos. Back in the day before weedeaters were invented and affordable, it seems everyone’s sidewalks were overrun on the edges with weeds and grass. Everyone’s except ours when Papa was alive. Papa used to take a sharp shovel and go along the edge of the sidewalk and cut a very narrow trench that was clear of grass. He also did this to edge the planting beds around the house and yard. He taught me to do this and I tried to keep mine neat although I never succeeded to the degree he did. When I lived in the Houston area, the excessive wetness and the hard gumbo soil defeated me more than once! But I can remember getting on my knees and trimming the grass around the house using only a pair of small hand clippers. It was a hopeless task as the grass seemed to have grown back before I made the circle around the house!

So I follow in Papa’s footsteps and the order in the garden concerns me as much as the plants. But I have loosened up some and Rickie does things that probably wouldn’t bother him if they were left undone. He operates the weedeater because I don’t like the way it throws rocks and stuff at me and I try to do most of the weeding and mulching, especially since I am here more than he is. I like to use the push mower and will mow the yard when he might let it go another week. (Out here you only really have to mow a few times a year it is so dry. Last year we never mowed at all.) I’m hoping for a new garden fence next year and he doesn’t see the need for one. My neighbor got a new garden fence and I have garden fence envy! It is straight and even and beautiful and I drool with envy of it!

But one thing we totally agree on is that we love to work in the yard and in the garden together! I love these Spring-like days that come in the middle of winter. Wouldn’t it be nice if a Winter-like day would come in the middle of summer?