A Reprise

My favorites: sweet potato gnocci spumoni

Location: Canyon of the Eagles

  On leaving Texas we stopped at a coffee shop. On its grounds lay remains of the past-an old gas pump, an Airstream, a junk car.     Chillicothe, Texas.

  From Anton Cemetery in Anton, Texas, close to the New Mexico border.

The sun burned the ground and my skin and the steel signs. It bleached all it touched, and the empty shells of buildings consisted of slender lumber that trembled in the wind like bones. On the ground before me a snake shuddered, the only inhabitant of this lonely place where the wind soughed through the buildings. In this place, we were as welcome as we were unwelcome.    I was standing on the very last stretch of Texas, but the buildings represented the style of New Mexico. The walls were between one and two feet thick, formed of clay, and as I stood on the threshold, a cold breeze drifted toward me. I could not tell anything about the debris in the buildings. I guessed-a cigarette machine, a gambling device? I know a little about what dwells on the outskirts of society. But whatever happened here I could not tell. Perhaps even fifty years was enough to remove all traces of recognition. What had once been a post office, and a laundromat, were piles of rubble fal...

Right now we are on Route 66 at a restored motor inn called the Blue Swallow. The moon is almost completely full and glowing more brightly by the moment. Next door the Economy Inn is completely abandoned. A high wall surrounds the pool, which must be drained. The sky looks like a painting, pink and blue clouds surreal, and in the distance dark clouds hover over Tucumcari Mountain. It doesn't seem quite real that I am here, experiencing the real thing after dreaming for so long. The other guests like to just sit on the lawn furniture outside their rooms and enjoy the evening, and we are at the picnic tables, next to a barbeque grille and a set of yellow plastic picnic chairs and stumps where the table top used to be. I have been on and off Route 66 for the better part of a week, and I am leaving it behind. Spoiled girl, all I feel is disappointed it is almost over. But there will be pictures.

We are resting after our day's drive to Amarillo. Today we stopped at an antique store in Quanah and later a coffee shop in Childress. I found five sewing patterns: a Gunne Sax wedding gown and bridesmaids' gowns, a Gunne Sax blouse and skirt, a secretary dress with variations, a sweater set variety and a Western blazer with puffed sleeves - which I would not normally have considered but the cut of it is quite innocent and sweet. I also got a porcelain powder ball with a yellow rose which looked just right for my dresser top. I think when I get home I am going to change its look to the perfume bottles on a mirror top, especially as I start collecting perfumes from the 1970's and 1980's (I think the dilapidation of the scent is romantic, but it is never a good idea to wear old fragrances due to the chemical decomposition). I am a little stressed that the Internet in our hotel is not working. Thus this post may be delayed. I have not reserved our hotel room in Santa...

I had this conversation 2X last week. "What are you doing this weekend?" "Well, we're having this sort of family reunion." "Where?" "It's in New Hope. Kind of near Jewett. uh, Mexia.? Halfway between here and Houston." They know where that is. "In a park or pavilion?" "No, actually it's in the cemetery!" "In the. what? Whoa." Yeah, I used to think everybody did something like this. This week I learned doing this is kind of different. Cool!   My dad and stepmother and husband. I'm not sure about this blouse. It's a vintage. I need to accessorize it a little better. Some chunky jewelry.   This is where it all started. Napoleon Bonaparte Story and his wife Elizabeth. We always, always go to their graves when we visit. They're at the very back of the cemetery.   Afterward we had pecan pie at Aunt Verlon's. It was so awesome. I just took it all in.

Last time we went to Jefferson there was a poor old nag parked outside of our hotel every day. Her skin sagged over her bones. She literally looked like she was going to die. I was upset by the sight of this poor old horse and eventually connected her with the sight of an old-fashioned moustached man sitting in our hotel lobby. Apparently, these were Liza Jane and Mr. Tom, respectively. When we were in the coffee shop I mentioned last post there was this little stone commemorating them. The reason it was important was because I was incensed by the sight of that pathetic horse. I thought she might be mistreated, but Nathan managed to persuade me that the 110 F temperatures were causing the Clydesdale some misery. I had already begun planning my campaign, http:// www.savelizajane.com , but I agreed reluctantly.     Well, while we were waiting for our ghost tour to begin, Nathan alerted me to the presence of a certain carriage in our vicinity, and I took this photograph of ...

We went canoeing for three hours on Caddo Lake near Jefferson. It was something we had not done since college, and it raised for me sweet feelings from the past. Canoeing was the only KINE I could take with any success. Now that I understand myself a little better, it makes perfect sense. Rather than disrupting or challenging, you are using your energy to transport yourself, quietly. Canoeing is useful and good. Things with balls or instruments that hit balls are bad.       It also reminded me of my oft-canoeing partner, who happened to be rowing with me, who is my husband, and I felt a deep sense of connection to my past with him.      This old boat was branded a Chrysler and looked like it was from the '70's. We liked that. I thought this house was interesting. It looks like a double wide and a single somehow connected together.   Welcome to eternity. Tonight my heart is sorrowing. I am thinking about marriage. I am thinking about ...

He signs our names in the Excelsior's register. Famous names are under a glass case in the reception room. We wonder if one day our names will be framed. This page has a double chance, since we both have dreams of achievement.   The carpeting is red; the walls white paneling.   The rooms are appointed with vintage decor. I have had a great love for fashion plates lately. This painting suggests my favorite time period, the 1840's, and my favorite style, dramatic parted hair, bead choker and portrait neckline.     The roses in the courtyard were incredibly fragrant.   We had the hotel to ourselves when we chose to explore, and the courtyard that morning felt like our own as we breakfasted and wandered.     The lush Southern growth was a balm to my senses.   The dining room. We regretted not signing up for breakfast.   We would have eaten at an antique table under this chandelier.   The receptionist gave us details abou...

I took these photos with my first digital camera in 2003, around the same time I started this blog. This was where my mother worked when I was a child, and I spent my afternoons here after school. A man who worked here found me crying on this porch when I was about eight. He told me I couldn't let other kids get to me, that I had to be tougher than that. I disagreed with him, unable to conceive of a wall to protect me from pain.  I didn't know him very well at the time. I had little idea that he would be my stepfather in a year's time. And that we would have this kind of argument many times as I grew up.   It was all so overgrown. I thought it pretty unlikely that these buildings, once swarming with people on the well-worn paths, could still serve the same function. I ran up and down the covered walkways so many times, played games with other children in unused rooms filled with boxes and debris, making homes and worlds for hours. When the porch would ice, we would go s...