Christmas in the rearview mirror

Deer at the feeder, with the sun reflected on

the limestone cliffs above the river

The Alters have scattered to their various parts of Texas—and one to California—after five glorious days at a terrific house outside Blanco, right on the Blanco River, in the heart of the Hill Country. Seventeen of us—loud, noisy, tripping over each other and ecstatically happy—most of the time.

Friends asked me incredulously what we would do for five days in Blanco, which they described as a wide place in the road. But what a charming wide place, sort of old-timey looking and even boasting an emporium. At the Redbud Café on the square, I had one of the best tuna sandwiches ever. One day a few people went to Luckenbach, and on our final day we all descended on Fredericksburg. It’s probably been twenty years since I was there, and I found it a bit disappointing. Picturesque old stone buildings mostly house stores sporting tourist-bait, and the streets were crowded. And why do all those people bring their dogs for a dog of souvenir-hunting? Restaurants were on a long wait, so we ended up at a place that advertised wine, beer, and BBQ—but  had no wine! Colin ended up pushing me on my Rollator, which was a sight to behold I’m sure but kind of fun—and sure easier than me trying to walk all that way.

People from small families don’t understand that with so many of us, keeping occupired is rarely a problem. The house we were in offered plenty without venturing away. For the boys—we  have four ranging from fifteen to twelve—there was pool, billiards, foosball, ping pong, and a basketball hoop in the driveway. Many of us spent much of each day cooking—takes a lot to feed seventeen people!

In the evenings, at dusk, deer came to a feeder on the riverbank—timid, graceful creatures who trusted us. Later most evenings we sat around a gas-fueled fire pit—it was warm and nice during the day but evenings turned downright chilly. Some evenings ended with card games around a huge table in front of one of the fireplaces. And then we each went our way—four bedrooms in the main house and two in the guest house.

In a fully equipped kitchen—four ovens, two refrigerators (one of them commercial) we fixed tacos, tamales, a full turkey dinner, and chili—notice a tendency there? We munched on leftovers for breakfast and lunch, tamales being the most popular breakfast food. But there were cinnamon rolls and cornbread, all kinds of delights. My problem with all that cooking is I find it hard to let go—after years of feeding this gang, I find myself on the sidelines, partly because of my walker and partly because the next generation takes over the kitchen and does it their way. They produced great food, while I perched at a corner of the big island with my computer so that I was in the midst of the action if not actually part of it.

We had so much to take—clothes, food, and gifts—that most families came in two cars. On the way down, Jordan and I had fun showing off various Texas sites and features to Dylan, the California sister who had only visited briefly before. On the way home, we had a great adventure when we stopped at Dutchman’s Hidden Valley, a sprawling treasure of a store, butcher shop, candy shop, restaurant—practically everything you could want. Endless shelves  held a variety of salsas and mustards and preserves. An enticing  counter smack inside the front door offered hand-dipped chocolates and homemade fudge—I found the chocolate-covered orange peel that I love. We came away with cheese, bison kielbasa and summer sausage, and chocolate, of course.

All good things come to an end, and it’s always good to get home but also always sad to mark the end of a much-anticipated family gathering. A lovely dinner with good friends last night helped to stave off my sadness but I came home late to a wonky computer (lay awake in the night worrying about that!) and even an electric toothbrush that wouldn’t work. In the cold light of day, I have fixed the toothbrush, ordered a new remote keyboard, and relished a sandwich of the corned beef from Zabar’s that Dylan brought. I guess Christmas 2019 is now a happy memory.

Christmas dinner