Babies and ranches

I am full of news tonight. My seventh grandchild, Kegan David Alter, was born this morning. He weighed 8 lbs. and was 19 inches long. When I saw pictures tonight I thought what a solid looking little boy he was. Actually I cried a bit when I saw the pictures. Of course his father, my son Colin, assures me that he's much cuter than in the pictures--and he has sort of reddish hair. Mom Lisa is doing well and looked terrific in the picture I saw. In one picture, big sister Morgan was not at all interested in her new brother--but then, she's only twenty months old. What can we expect? They'll bring both babies to Fort Worth on Mothers Day for dedicaton at my church, and that will be my first chance to meet Kegan. But I'm attached to him already.
My other news is that I'm just back from visiting the King Ranch and doing a program/signing at the Henrietta King Memorial Center. The children's book I wrote on John Barclay Armstrong was sort of piggy-backed onto a serious adult bio of Armstrong by Chuck Parsons, but we were both featured at a signing at the Memorial Center. There were maybe 150 people present, and I managed to speak briefly (always makes me nervous), saying I had not much to add to what Chuck had said except there were some differences in writing for children. I signed about 80 books--if I ever had a TCU Press author sign that many I'd jump for joy.
But the big part of the trip was the King Ranch itself. My friend Jeannie and I were given a private tour by car (along with Chuck and his wife) of about two hours, going twelve miles around the main house in what was obviously a small part of that huge ranch. But Dusty, our tour guide, lives and breathes King Ranch history. We learned so much that I can't keep it all in my mind, but it was fascinating.
Then we went to the main house to "freshen up." We were given 45 minute for that, and then we met in the salon or something, had a tad of wine, and toured the first floor of the house, hearing the history as we went along--it is 32,000 square feet and has 17 bedrooms. No one lives there now, but it is used for guests like us. We had cocktails and dinner in the pool house--too many of us for the main dining room. The food was wonderful--enchiladas, beans, tacos, rice, and guacamole, with nachos passed beforehand. Then on to the program and signing.
We spent the night at the main house. Jeannie's room wa near the peacocks, and she said they wakened her at 3 a.m. My room was right by a huge grandfather clock that chimed the hour and half hour, but I didn't even hear it until about 5 a.m. In the morning we gathered for breakfast in the formal dining room. White-coated waiters asked what each of us would like--migas, huevos rancheros, omelets, etc. I was the chicken and asked for plain scrambled eggs.
We left reluctantly for the long drive--a bit over 500 miles--home to Fort Worth. But a fun stop was at a French bisto in LaGrange--who would have thought to find a bistro there? Food was delicious.
Jeannie and I arrived back in Fort Worth bone tired but we had memories we'll cherish for a long time. We were treated like VIPs and loved every minute of it.