The 50th Year, Part 3, Giving Away a Goat

This year is all about doing new things....

Yesterday I was the last speaker at the Chihuahuan Desert RC&D (that's Resource, Conservation and Development) Annual Meeting, following a great brisket dinner cooked by fellow board member Ike, and a talk by an aide for our congressman. I spoke about regional cooperation in developing tourism, our shared goals in strengthening and diversifying our local economies, and our plans to include agricultural producers in tourism development for the region. But that's the boring stuff....

Our RC&D is blessed with Ike, a long time rancher/cowboy, hunched over by too many rough days in the saddle. He has a quiet, droll sense of humor and a calming nature, and when not outside having a smoke, he's a steady leader of the board. And Ike's a sweetie. Ike would stick out in any crowd for any of these attributes, but he has one more measure of distinction....he has the most spectacular mane of hair coming from his neck I've ever seen. Page down on this link to see him a few years ago....his hair has grown considerably since then. http://www.jameshevans.com/Big%20Bend%20Pictures%20.html (You can double-click on his photo for a closer view.) We're lucky to have him; everybody genuinely likes Ike.

Every year, Ike donates a goat to raffle off as a fundraiser for the RC&D. You can win a live goat from his herd, or he'll butcher one and dress it for meat. After my talk, the last order of the day was to auction off two briskets Ike donated, and then draw for the goat.

Now, I've often thought about what I'd do if I won one of Ike's goats. Seeing as I don't have room for 20-30 pounds of anything in my freezer, and goat (or cabrito, as it is called here) is really a challenge to cook well, I wasn't ready to take a win as meat. They say you really need to have cabrito cooked by someone who knows how to do it, or you'll never eat goat again.

The pet option was more to my liking anyway, but I live on the second floor of a storefront building and I travel all the time. While I think Daisy would rather like adding a nanny to the family, and I've wanted one for a long, long time, it doesn't make any sense for me now.

So, I always planned to give away my win, if I ever got so lucky.

Now, attending the meeting yesterday was a nice young man who'd moved to the region three weeks ago from Baltimore to head the food pantry in Alpine. I thought, "brave guy." Aside from our scrappiness, Far West Texas and Baltimore are as unlike each other as you can imagine. I remember my first meeting with these ranchers, wildlife managers and government conservationists. I felt I'd stepped into a brand new world--a world of mostly men, a world of traditions and beliefs unknown to me, a world in which I had so much to learn. My transition was eased into the group by kind Annette, a young educated woman from The City (El Paso) employed by the regional council of governments. She shares my affection for the organization's work and admiration of its rancher members. Annette and I are still on the outside, but they're getting used to us.

So it was instantaneous when my name was pulled from the hat (a cowboy hat, naturally) that I announced I'd give my goat to the newcomer, the food pantry guy, thinking maybe he could use the meat.

He sat up straight, "a goat?" He paused. His face wrinkled up, "A GOAT?!?" Pause. And then with some measure of panic, he said, "I don't even know what to DO with a goat!"

Oh, and then I felt badly. Here he is...three weeks from the city and someone gives him a farm animal?!? After Ike and I talked with him, I think he's leaning towards taking the pick of the litter expected on Valentine's Day...as a pet for his girlfriend who apparently is brave enough to move here from Baltimore. And that makes me, and Ike, happy.

Academy Awards

The two movies filmed in Marfa (just down the road) topped the nominations for the Academy Awards. Plop yourself in front of "No Country for Old Men" and "There Will Be Blood" and you'll see the land around Marfa.

Feeling somewhat overload and am headed out on the road in a couple of days. Working on too many fun projects, so it is hard to complain.

That's why I'm giving you a repeat, and sharing this photo with you again. This is how photogenic the land around Marfa can be....no wonder Hollywood comes down here!

Smiling

My morning ritual of reading cnn.com has never been so handsomely rewarded. Congrats to Jim Harris, the staff of Prairie Lights and all of us book buyers in Iowa City--the store (shall I be so parochial and suggest it may be the Center of the Universe?!?) was included in this morning's article "Nine Bookstores Worth at Tourist Visit," and you can read it here.

Eating in Season

Driving from the southern tip of Texas to Houston last week, I passed through the legendary King Ranch. Along the road there were citrus stands, where I stopped to get fresh oranges, orange blossom honey and locally grown pecans.

There were lots of things to buy in addition to produce (double-click on the top photo to get an idea of their merchandise!), so it was fun to look around. And five dollars bought 8 pounds of oranges, so I had fresh squeezed juice all week long!

The 50th Year, Part 2

There are certain items one wishes to do but keeps putting off. Good things. Fun things. Why live without these pleasures? This year, I'm going to tackle my objects of procrastination. Not all of them are difficult...case in point, Grandma's fudge sauce. It has been in the family cookbook for years, but tonight I made it for the first time. Though I had fancy-schmancy dutch process cocoa in the cupboard, I resisted the temptation and made it with Hershey's Cocoa, just as Grandma would have, and it was great. But next time, I might sneak in some Grand Marnier instead of the vanilla. Yum, yum, yum.

Blend: 1 c. sugar 2 heaping T. flour, 1/3 c. cocoa, 1/4 t. salt.
Add and cook until thick and stirring constantly: 1 c. boiling water and 1/2 T. butter
Remove from heat and add: 1/2 t. vanilla
Serve hot or cold. Store in refrigerator

The 50th Year, Part 1

How have I lived all this time as a girl on this planet and never tried on a real party dress, a long formal dress, a designer name, or a dress costing more than $100?

WHAT HAVE I BEEN WAITING FOR?

I trotted myself to a most foreign place, the elegant gown section of Saks at Houston's Galleria...where there are bona fide designer dresses and bonafide dress wearers....we're talking Vera Wangs and ladies who wear Vera Wang! HA!

I kept hearing Tim Gunn's confidence boosting voice in my head: "There are 10 essential items everyone woman should have in their wardrobe...including a perfect white shirt, a sweatpant substitute, a classic trenchcoat..." (not in Van Horn, Tim!)

I grabbed four party dresses selected simply for the fun of trying them on. The criteria: dresses I would never seriously wear anywhere...and I'll fess up... most of them were selected because they were downright weird and uncharacteristic of me. Given that my lifestyle and my wallet would make the actual purchase of a dress ridiculous, most of all, the dresses were selected because they might be the most fun to try on and see in the mirror.

--a $900 gold and silver beaded and sequined 1920's inspired sack....dreadfully showy and ugly, but fun to wear. This thing was so heavy, it made me wonder how Ginger Rodgers ever danced in her beaded floor-length getups.

--an unlikely but surprisingly comfortable combination of gray jersey with silver beads and sequins at its Grecian style empire waist

--an incredibly silly asymmetrical number in shimmering gold satin...a puzzle to put on...does the huge deconstructed bow go ON the shoulder or UNDER the arm? It was one ostentatious toga, that's for sure.

--and the raspberry taffeta number, which was actually quite nice, although the fabric was so stiff and harsh I felt like a wrapped package

Yes, I'm too frugal. And I've avoided a life that would bring me the invitations. But now after all these years, I do feel like a party girl. And that's fun.

Birds and the Border

I try to plan my business travel with enough time for research excursions. Since my business is now Leisure, I’m “on the clock” doing all sorts of things…visiting museums and parks, for example, which I’ve come to regard as my reward for all those relatively soul-less evenings running a "charitable" phone solicitation program. So last week, in order to learn about the infrastructure supporting world-famous birding opportunities in South Texas, I find myself on a wildlife tram ride through Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Go to this place. It really is special. Spanish moss hangs from the trees, heron and ibis fly by evoking fantasies of nymphs and fairies. The wildly exciting Great Kiskadee lands on a branch above my head. He is a mix of goldfinch coloring on a stout Kingfisher-like body; his brilliant yellow and black and white head glows in the sun.

Then there is the tough looking Crested Caracara, his flat black and white and pink head looking predatory and fierce. I miss the glimpse of a bobcat family (with kittens!) my fellow tram riders catch, but since the cats like to poop on pathways, we see plenty of bobcat scat on the trail. A blind armadillo (all of them are) roots around in the brush and crosses my path, not even pausing to acknowledge my presence. Javelina trot by. Waterfowl poke through the wetlands looking for food.

But when the tram screeches to a halt and the driver yells into his walkie-talkie, ”three male UDAs on the path,” we think we might see another form of wildlife. The Rio Grande is just a few feet from us, and undocumented aliens had taken a swim to the United States. We were assured of our safety; the tram driver is right: anyone swimming across wants only to slip by unseen. It takes just five minutes to hear a roar on the river, a Border Patrol boat speeding towards us. (Yes, the opposite shore is Mexico!) They hit the bank, and an officer leaps to shore, running past us on the trail. He makes a beeline down the path, ducking every now and then to look through the brush. And soon he is gone out of sight.

It reminds me of how far I’ve come in regards to the border. When I first moved here, the Border Patrol checkpoints unnerved me. Today, I feel no anxiety when the border patrol takes its time waving my car through a checkpoint. It is merely an annoyance—my region’s version of stopped traffic—to wait as the line of cars ahead of me gets sniffed by the drug dogs. I’ve learned they can only ask, “Are you a citizen?” but tolerate the other questions they sometimes ask, “where are you headed?”, “where are you driving from today?” And once the mildly flirtatious, “haven’t I seen you in Van Horn?”

In his 2000 book, Roads, Larry McMurtry writes about people crossing the river from Juarez to El Paso, “most days, a few people will be wading the river, their shoes slung over their shoulders. A riverfront several miles long through the heart of two cities presents the Border Patrol with a challenge it cannot meet.” But that was before 9/11 and every city and town in the region is faced with an impressive step-up of force. Van Horn has a brand new Border Patrol station and is expecting dozens more officers over the next few years. The Border Patrol is recruiting….high school graduates passing the Academy and getting a few years in can earn up to $80,000, so the story goes. It will be one way for local kids to get a leg up on their future. One of the only ways, actually.

And then there are days like today....

I'm in the deep south of Texas, representing the Texas Mountain Trail region at the McAllen International Travel Fair. Basically this means talking to hundreds of RVing seniors who are wintering down here, encouraging them to head to the mountains for a visit.

A trade show is a trade show. And trade show entertainment is about as bad as you think it might be. But we got some real "international" flavor with these fellows, who at times were the urban vaquero version of the Rockettes, at times were funky cowboys, and at all times were on fire strutting their stuff and charming the older ladies from Wisconsin and Iowa and Minnesota. A very good time was had by all.....

I had fun, did you?

I don't care what the press says. I'm glad at least one place in this country gets a chance to participate in the political process in a personal way, and Iowans with your customary sense of responsibility and earnestness are the ones doing it for the rest of us. Job well done, friends.

National politics for everyone else is a function of a quiet public talking back to a noisy television, in disgust at the pundits more than the politicians. (But with plenty of disgust at the politicians, too.) Most don't even turn on the TV, and I don't blame them for that, really.

I miss hearing my neighbors tell me why they chose their candidate, and more fascinating, watching which arguments will turn a Dodd supporter toward an Obama camp. I miss seeing political ideas playing out with real people.

In 1988, I caucused at Doc and Jo's diner in Mechanicsville, with 40 other Democrats. The caucus chairman put single sheets from a yellow legal pad on the wall. One said, "Dukakis," one "Jackson," and the rest. After we broke into our candidate groups, there was just one old lady sitting under the "Babbitt" sign. No argument, no gentle prodding, no pleas that her single vote would ever make him "viable" would move her into another candidate's group. She just sat there. Finally she said, "I did all the research, I met the man, he's my candidate. I don't care if it doesn't mean anything to anyone else, he's the one I want, and I'm staying here, even if it doesn't matter in the end."

I love that. You don't get that by watching TV.

Grateful

Pausing a minute to remember the highlights of last year:

The visit of Sara and Chris, (thanks so much for coming!);

Nearly everything about Scotland;

Finding goodreads.com and establishing informal bookclubs (M and S and the Ha Ha!);

Thanks to Anne, for helping me discover Caroline Knapp and her The Merry Recluse, reading more Barbara Kingsolver, Rebecca Solnit and Terry Tempest Williams;

Finding Smitten Kitchen.com and the miraculous no-knead NYT bread recipe;

Making Aztec "Hot" Chocolate Ice Cream and Pear-Caramel-Ginger Ice Cream in my new ice cream maker and having to exercise the art of portion control to lose my few extra Scottish dessert pounds!

Logging 700 miles of running and gaining physical strength;

Learning our program will probably continue (final word on funding due in a couple of months), and watching it gain momentum;

Trying my hand at travel writing, and seeing my words and photos in print;

Finding more like-minded people here and strengthening friendships;

The women's hiking group's excursion (and also M and C's visit) to Hueco Tanks to see rock art, and the tour there, which has to be the "Best Two Hours in Texas;"

Grateful that many aspects of life are finally moving forward;

All your emails and calls!