This will be somewhat of a collaborative post. It is late (by our standards) but we have meetings in Dallas starting tomorrow and for the next several days. We must drive tonight until we are at least within 2 hours of our destination. David spent a lot of time photographing and reveling in the progress of the Rockport project today. He was not really needed onsite, and we were scheduled to leave early. But if you know him or his work, you know he could not leave until the last boulder was placed. Keith and the Appealing Gardens crew still had about two hours of hard labor today and will work a half-day tomorrow cleaning up. We will all be back very soon to plant and continue working on the homage to the Appian Way. The project is jaw-dropping, truly. I will let David add to this post later his thoughts and pics of this magazine-worthy masterpiece.
So David is dictating to me, reminding me that more than 100 tons of stone were laid in 6 days...and there is more to set when we return. Amazing is an understated description of the transformation of this one section of the property. The home and the view are priceless, and the vegetation was beautiful as it was. But this little "enhancement" has seamlessly connected the architecture with the million-dollar view of Copano Bay; and the native plantings to come will render the place undeniably stunning. This is a once-in-a-lifetime creation for any artisan, and we cast members are grateful for our roles. So many blessings...
Tomorrow will mark 9 weeks since this journey began. Our energy issues will be resolved soon -- work-wise, our plate has been too full to settle in one place long enough so that we may address each weak link in the energy chain. We know the problems, now we have to fix them. We also want to reconfigure the trailer to be more like a tiny house on wheels. That is the heart of our camp, we have discovered. Change is constant when you live a mobile lifestyle, and if you embrace the beauty of change your journey will be richer. If you resist it, a magical moment can be lost in a soup of struggle. A lesson that reveals the first step down a new path of opportunity and enlightenment might be ignored. Sometimes, like when I wake up stoked about breaking camp and changing my perspective (literally), I find that I actually thrive on change. Sometimes I have difficulty letting go of people, places and possessions steeped in nostalgic value. After 12 years, I finally set Grandma's gowns free...but not her scarves or her books about poetry...El Valor, as sentimental as we feel about her, might also be liberated. As "truckwagon the trailer" (gets a new name and) becomes more central to our rolling homestead, we might not need the camper. We have other ideas that would further simplify our set-up, and would enrich our experiences as we live.work.travel together. Bluebonnet aka Hula Girl -- my truck -- might also be allowed to find a new home. In nearly ten years, she has paid for herself at least a hundred times, and has continued to be dependable in landscape "retirement." It seems shameful and disrespectful to stow her in a sandy lot, exposed to the brutal coastal conditions. Nobody is ready to say goodbye to her yet, but we are preparing ourselves. Change is good, and sometimes very good.
Nearing Austin. I don't think David can keep going much longer. Maybe this is a good time to just do a quick summary of our journey so far:
One night in Austin, three nights in Plano, then two weeks in Cedar Hill.
Three nights in Lockhart, then three weeks on the beach.
One night in Mission for the Texas Butterfly Festival, then one week in DFW.
One night in New Braunfels, then to Wurstfest for the afternoon and one night in Mathis.
One week in Rockport.
So many memories, already. So many lessons...about energy, portable food, water, precious value of TIME...and priorities that allow you to savor the deliciousness of Now. Too often, we fill our mind-bellies with thoughts of Yesterday or plans for Tomorrow that we can not fully appreciate Today, and more specifically, Now. This.very.moment.
At this moment, my little butterfly girl is snoozing alongside her furry brother, Folsom. Like most days, she has played in her playhouse (aka truckwagon...we really really need a new name for it...) and sung songs and made up stories about her dolls with Mommy. She practiced writing letters and pretended to read her books. As we said goodbye to the Rockport folks, she kissed Keith on the cheek and thanked Damion for taking her for a ride on "the tractor." She picked up her mail and squealed with delight when she opened her new Dora shoes. She told the cashier at the gas station she is not allowed to have cookies anymore because sugar turns her "into a monster." After a huge glass of milk and much more singing and dancing in her carseat, she finally called it a (long) day. Precious girl lives every moment, every day, as if it's her best, not her last. Just like Mommy and Daddy are teaching her.