Nights in gems and clover

As I write this, los techodores are pounding away all over the roof of this house, day 2 of the racket that woke me this morning. We are getting a new roof this week, thanks to the damage done by a major hail storm this past spring and our friendly neighborhood insurance company. I can walk through the house and hear something that sounds like it's crumbling down right in front of me, only to realize that it's just those little pellets rolling down the roof. Crazy.

This past weekend I was again away, as you might have noticed. Maybe not. But that's okay cause I'm back now. We spent this last weekend in the Hill Country of Texas, visiting our good friends, Marda and Jerry. Let me just state right now, I love the Hill Country. It is so different from Houston, out in the country, hilly, arid, with almost a touch of tuscan flavor in the dusty, ruddy cliffs and large opulent houses that peek out from the tops of the hills. The yard every morning was full of hummingbirds whirring up to the porch for a sip of nectar and breast jays dominating the yard with flashes of brilliant blue. We watched over 3 million bats churn out of an old railroad tunnel before flying out to look for an evening snack. We floated down a gorgeous strech of the Guadalupe (in Texas pronounced Gwa-da-lopee) River in the shade of centegenarian cypress trees that reached down from their lofty heights, stretching to touch the face of the river. We went to an honest to goodness barn dance in an honest to goodness barn with open sides and twinkling Christmas lights hung from all the rafters. Country music abounded in the cool dark night and couples whirled in Texas two-steps around the dance floor with all the pagentry of Czar Nicholas' court. I sat in the night breeze on the third story porch overlooking the river valley at watched a million stars sweep over the sky and watched some of them shoot off in a solitary, short-lived blaze of glory. Then the moon rose over the farthest hill, large and orange as a Halloween pumpkin. So, all in all, it was a pretty amazing weekend. I felt like I was really getting a taste of what it is to be a Texan, long lazy afternoons on the river, barn dances in the evening, camp revival meetings and a lunch of barbeque and church ladies' covered dishes on a Sunday morning. I don't know if any of this makes any sense, probably not, because I have a major identity crisis when it comes to a geographic kind of belonging. Perhaps its better not to get too attached to Texas either, but I don't know, I can't really help it. I'm coming to like it here, or to like what this place or these people stand for, or something. But at any rate, it was a really great weekend, and very restorative. It gives me happy feels...okay, goodnight.

S.