February 2, 2009. Harper, Tx. The ranch.

From San Antonio to Harper takes an hour and a half of your time, but it is worlds away in spirit. As is our custom, I drive along with the girls , as they head into school. It is always interesting to watch their preparations and to overhear the conversations in the car. Spelling words are reviewed, state capitals checked, and always the anxiety of being late. No girl wants to be late for school, so they watch the clock as the minutes tick away as they approach the eight o'clock deadline. I of course, hate being late, but I try to assure them that nothing terrible happens if they are late for school. They don't believe me. They want to be on time. Of course, four girls and a Mother must be ready to leave together and often one girl can not find their shoe. Immediately after delivering the girls at school and returning home, Ken and I drive to the farm. The trip is very pretty, on an interstate highway 10 that is not crowded. In Kerrville we shop for groceries at HEB, the best grocery store in the world I think. The store is spacious and the other shoppers are friendly, as is the staff. Simple pleasures I know, but it a pleasure to be reminded that you are in rural Texas. The rains have not come to the Hill Country, so the grasses are all brown. We have had several months of drought. Many years ago there was seven years without any rain. I can not imagine that happening, but of course, it could happen again.

Directly on arrival at the ranch, we drive up to the top house, stopping to see the cattle along the way. Our four calves will soon go the auction. It is such a pleasure arriving at our home on the hill. I inspect every part and look out every window before storing away the groceries. That is the time I realize what we have forgotten, although as we had no list and we haven't been here for a bit how can we expect to bring everything we need home from the store. Steve arrives to make sure we are there and to bring a bill for the hay. This winter with no rain we must feed the cattle all the time. Normally there is winter grass to feed the cattle, but not this year. Steve looks after the cattle when we are away and always has a friend or two with him when he comes to visit or work. And always with a beer can in hand. We visit a bit about this and that and then our friends Joyce and Robbie come over for dessert. And our down the road fellow rancher Jan called to say she saw our gate open so she called to say welcome. The spirit of the country is very different than in San Antonio and also different that the farm in Pennsylvania. I am not quite sure what the differences are but perhaps it is merely the density of population. No matter, I am happy to be here in the hill country.