BLAME IT ON DAD (12/04)

Well, we finally did it. We actually closed on a house in Wimberley the week before Christmas! As much as we would love to go ahead and move to Wimberley full time, we have two kids in college now, and can't afford to quit our day jobs just yet. However, we are having an excellent time here on weekends, and since Alexis attends school in San Marcos, only fifteen miles away, she has agreed to move in and act as caretaker until she graduates next December. Even though we have only stayed in the house twice, just a few days each time, our days are already beginning to fall into a pattern. One of the things I am most excited about, is being able to sleep with our windows open. I loved doing that as a kid, but gave it up long ago due to safety concerns in the big city. On our first morning here, I thought I heard rain. After listening carefully for a bit longer, I realized it wasn't rain, it was the sound of the little waterfalls on our creek. At that time of day, with no competition from the sound of cars passing on the highway, you could hear it quite clearly. I couldn't resist getting up, fixing a big steaming mug of chai, and going out on the upper porch to listen to the stream and watch the sun rise from behind the hills. Next thing I knew, He-Who-Hates-Mornings had joined me. Once the sun was full up, and we had finished our tea, He-Who-Never-Exercises actually suggested that we go for a walk! This exertion, though, unlike going to a gym or using a treadmill, was pure pleasure, as we were exploring our new environs. Even though it was mid-January, the temperature was perfect, with just enough of a breeze to be pleasant. His reward for all of his exertion was getting to go into town to the Cypress Creek Cafe for a hearty breakfast. We were assured by our realtor that this cafe is where all the old geezers here-abouts hang out every morning (and some young ones too!). Since then, that is how we have started most of our days.

I have never understood exactly what it is that keeps calling me back to the Texas Hill Country. A friend said she read somewhere that we are often drawn to places that resemble the favorite vacation spots of our childhood. Since my family spent most every vacation in a cabin in Creede, Colorado, near the headwaters of the Rio Grande, there may be some truth in that. When I was wandering around outside the other day, on the hills behind our house, the smell of cedar and the sound of the rushing creek suddenly overtook me. I closed my eyes, and all at once I was thirteen again, and my sister and I had climbed the hill behind our cabin in Creede, and were sitting there braiding flowers in our hair, a la Heidi!

I guess I have more in common with my father than I realized. I certainly understand better now why, despite our frequent begging to try somewhere different for a change, he kept dragging us back to the same old place, year after year. I am also beginning to understand, much to my dismay, just how devastated he must have felt, the day he realized that he was no longer capable of making the long trip out to Creede, and that he had seen it for the last time.

I still can't believe we were lucky enough to buy this place - that John even agreed to start seriously looking with me, that we found one so fabulous that was even close to our price range, that the owners turned out to be old friends of my sister-in-law's parents and that they accepted our low-ball offer, that we had a little money left to us by John's parents to use as a down-payment... So many factors came into play, but everything just fell into place like it was meant to be. Ever since I was a young teen reading Gothic romances, I have always wanted to live in a house that actually had a name. So, I here-by dub thee SEASONALITY!