Tuesday. It's a trip. Long, long ago the only trips I got to take were car trips, often camping expeditions, usually meeting up with gaggles of relatives. (My first plane ride was the summer I graduated from high school.) Any photos made on these trips reminded one of Okies fleeing the dust bowl. (We were often just Texans fleeing summer heat.) These trips involved very few restaurants and almost no motels. (Occasionally we slept at a relative's home, usually on the floor.) There wasn't any fancy camping equipment (no cold weather sleeping bags for the campground at 9K feet, just a bedroll of a sheet and a quilt you made up at home). For all the limits on my wanderlust as a kid, FFP tells me that he had it much worse...never getting out of Texas until he was in his early twenties. (His mom never left the state in her life and he thinks his dad might have gone to Mexico once.)I don't remember this trip, but there I am waving behind my great aunt and uncle who lived in Slaton. My mom stands over the cooler that had obviously provided sandwiches and drinks for a roadside lunch. The woman next to my mom is my sainted grandmother, Ruby Leverett DeArmond, aka Mama Dee, Deedy. The young fellow is a second or third cousin. I don't know who took the picture and shudder to think about what is in the overloaded trailer. Finding this shot made me want to track down the distant cousin (couldn't do it) and find a picture of the pickup my dad used to haul cattle that he made into a camper.
Now, I've also been taking walks around Austin neighborhoods and posting a dozen or more pictures on Facebook. Here's one from yesterday. I take note of unusual fences. First-ever tire fence!