Catching Up is Hard to Do

Dressed for the desert. 

So here is what I thought about my time in Texas. That I'd need boots. That I'd need heavy gloves. That I'd be picking cactus. Here is what it really is like. It's too hot to pick cactus to sell it, so we are doing other things. I helped finish a greenhouse. I've planted tomatoes and lettuce and cucumbers and peppers. I've gotten cold at night in my tent, but just cold enough to make sleeping easy, listening to cows bellow and a couple of times, coyotes howling. Usually though, it's figuring out how to stay in the shade and finding out how to keep the flies away. 

Right now (a relative term). It's 8:30 and the sun hasn't set but is getting low. We're watching the local cow herd come across and they are going to be close. They go out in the morning to the watering hole and come back at night...and here they come. We just finished marking off the corners of Jack's home he will build. The heat had gone away in a cloud of lightning and grey clouds and the negative ions were swirling, rousing us from a late afternoon 'be in the shade and drink a lot of water' stupor. It's all good. 

Afternoon excitement - watching the cows head to the other side...
just the other side, it doesn't matter.

And then we watch the longest sunsets I've ever seen, wowed over and over

I've wondered a lot how, out here in many hundreds of acres, the flies find us. It makes no sense, but there it is, and there they are. John and Lisa's magic potion helps against flies. At home, it's a miracle worker against mosquitoes, a little going a long, long way (if you are interested, head down to Dinghy Dock at happy hour and ask John or Lisa for a jar of it, I swear by it and love the stuff - called Stuff because when I left, they hadn't named it yet). 

A guy who was born and raised here gave Jack some magic juice; something with garlic and soap in it, that works pretty well. But usually, it's called waiting until dusk when they disappear and the quiet gets more quiet. Except for the occasional cow bellow or coyote cry.

Now it's a couple of days later. The area where Jack's house will go is cleared of what some call devil weed, sort of like our nasty thorned bush/trees but not as bad. We drove out to Jack's old place and got the big heavy fire ring and some firewood to bring back to the new place, and looked around at his half built sandbag house. We snaked our way through a lot of dirt roads down to what we think is called Alamo Dam, which we had decided was full of crystal blue water (you can have a lot of water fantasies around here, but end up soaking your head with the hose instead). It was full of cactus and trees and beautiful rock formations. Jack had heard there are Indian caves there with pictographs, but we didn't find them. Maybe it's a Texan version of a snipe hunt, but we're going to try to find out more. 

I like this yard, can't imagine why.

Another view of the Best Cafe in Sierra Blanca, the town that pretty much everyone forgot.

Not exactly a privacy fence.

We stopped with our Subway sandwiches and thought we'd eat in the teepee, but it was like a wind tunnel and there was no way to hold down anything, including the sandwiches.

A really good toss!

Maybe these people lost their sandwiches?

The road out to Jack's old place

Floozies!

Jack had told me about this carcass. However, someone else apparently wanted the head too.

This cow's hide reminds me of those leopard dogs. 

Way out in the desert, if you know where to look, you can buy the land with Jack's half finished sandbag house. For 100.00 a month. Cheap.

The not finished bath house/outhouse. Jack did all the work himself. Really.

Here's the fire ring/ovalzoid we loaded up in the truck. That was...interesting. But we did it and nobody died or even got bloody. 

This is for Janet T. The rocks here would...rock your soul.

A blue barrel cactus in bloom. The color is almost violent out in the shades of brown.

Jack playing Indian scout on top of the earthen dam.
On the left is where we thought we'd be swimming.

Road on top of the dam. Where are the friggin' Indian caves?

A cool old place in Sierra Blanca on the way back.

Wish THIS place was open. But no more.

Why, MJ, have you taken a photo of a drink? Because it has ICE in it!
The first ice in a drink at Jack's since, well, since I got here.

And now I'm in May's, with my alloted time, waiting on a Spanish omelet and staying cool for awhile. Thinking about home and watching the weather there, being thankful for Sahara dust.

Life is good.

Have a mounting with joy Monday! Do something mindful of miracles.