There aren’t very many people who get the concept. Starting
the day with a full tank of gas and no particular plans, going without a
schedule or a route, just a general idea. The adventure starts when the
unexpected happens. If you have a friend who gets it, she’s a keeper.
Today started at the Whole Foods at Lamar and 5th
street. Headed east for La Grange with
our sunglasses, a full water bottle, and some sunscreen. First stopping place,
a meadery outside of La Grange, a tasting, the discovery of some bottled
sunshine which had to be bought, then a picnic outside in a grassy meadow with
a hipster young jazz band playing ‘All of Me,’ numerous chickens clucking
around underfoot, and a politely persistent white dog who was tall enough to
reach casually across the picnic table for my sandwich. A walk through the
apiary and vineyard to pet the goats, several of whom were hugely pregnant, and
then back to the air conditioning of the car.
Next stop – Giddings, which turned out to have the most
fantastic store filled with elaborate hats and retro jewelry. Hats you could
comfortably wear to opening day at Ascot. Trying on hat after hat in front of
the mirror, sternly forbidding myself to get the $125 black and white gauzy concoction
with a silk rose on the front and settling for a nice little green straw
cloche. Also fudge, because all good hat stores should also sell homemade
fudge.
Then with the fudge melting and the mead warming in the car,
a stop in Elgin, which used to have an art gallery and a restaurant with
excellent pies, both now out of business. Elgin could have been a bust, but at
the last minute an antique store spotted just off the main street, which stank
of cigarette smoke and had a space in the middle with a blaring TV and a couple
of scruffy chairs and was quite obviously the living room of the proprietor.
Browsed through the dime store dishes, old VCR’s, and paperback books that
smelled of cat pee with a sinking feeling, then discovered a box full of old scrapbook
pages and photos, where a stunning black and white photo of a man’s nude,
muscular back and a sweet little watercolor were discovered. Took them to the
front desk with a rusty cauldron I found on a back shelf.
“Hey, I didn’t know that old picture was in there,” said the
rather dilapidated proprietor. “That’s me, 60 years ago.”
“Oh, I can’t take this then,” I said, blushing.
“Sure you can. Just scan it and send me a copy, here’s my
card,” he responded.
He’s probably going to get such a kick out of the fact that
I’m going to frame it and hang it in my bedroom.
On the way back to Austin, my friend said “He probably has
some great stories if you have time to listen to them all.”
That’s why you go out there.
