I’m a 61 year old woman. My life’s just getting good… because I’m creating it to be so!
Over the last few months I’ve started house sitting, and it’s becoming an obsession. I get to travel to places I love, hang out with furry floofs and other critters, meet new people, drag my camera along… so I’m gonna start blogging about it. Starting right now!
Good morning, friends!
Just popping in for a little mid-week ramble and a hello from the road.
I set off early yesterday — so early the sun hadn’t even thought about the day yet — making my way toward my next housesitting gig in Driftwood. I left a day ahead of schedule, which gave me the perfect excuse to do one of my favorite things: wander Texas backroads and haunt a few of my favorite old spots.
As I rolled away from Houston, Luna (aka the moon) was playing a wicked game of hide-and-seek, slipping behind clouds and popping back out just when I thought she was gone for good. She kept me company for miles, while the world began to rise and shine.
I had wildflower dreams dancing in my head, hoping for some early morning magic with my camera — but Mother Nature had other plans. This hasn’t been the year for blooms, thanks to a too-warm winter and stingy rain clouds. The big, showy displays have been spotty at best. No matter, though. The road offered up other treasures: time for much-needed thinking, daydreaming, a soundtrack full of questionable (but deeply loved!) tunes, and the charm of passing through little towns I’d never met before.
One of those towns, Rockdale, claims to have Texas’ oldest motel — though whether that’s fact or just small-town folklore is debatable. Either way, it planted the seed for a future project. Funny how the road does that.
By late morning, I landed in Wimberley and stopped by one of my favorite shops where I treated myself to a sweet bamboo topper, light and soft, with the muses of poetry, remembrance, and astronomy depicted on it. A little wearable inspiration.
My go-to pizza spot is closed for renovations (rude!), so I bellied up to the bar at The Let Go, and ordered a light lunch. Seated at the next stool was a young woman and her Austrian Cattle Dog, and before I knew it, we were sharing a plate of tuna “nachos” and life stories like old friends.
She told me about her journey — how she’s an aspiring songstress, (she gave me a beautiful tiny bar concert) and how she’s has been struggling with the gap between Christ’s love and the people who fill the pews on Sundays. She’s already had so many experiences, but she’s only 22, with so much of her story still waiting to be written. We exchanged info and went our separate ways, both a little giddier from the serendipity of the connection.
With time to spare before check-in, I made one last stop at the Arnosky Flower Farm, where the corn poppies swayed in the small field next to the parking lot, and Solo cups of sweet peas were on offer in the serve-yourself, pay-on-the-honor-system barn. Score!
Last night, I curled up in the coziest little renovated Airstream — pure charm. Though it sits just off the highway, it feels tucked away in its own secret corner of the the world, surrounded by woods, dotted with a few of my beloved wildflowers. I’ll definitely be back when I have more time to take advantage of the hot tub, outdoor shower, hammock, woodland trails…
And this morning? A tiny friend has been keeping me company: a Carolina wren, tapping at the window and belting out the sweetest song — his own little soundtrack for my morning writing.
Hello Butterfly! 