Texas Independence Day Celebration preparation had begun months ago and the final touches were being put in place by our Trustees and all of the staff. The trustees had worked hard and long hours setting up all the fire rings, roping off parking areas, setting out signs, chopping fire wood and delivering it to the proper area. Wrapped up against the wind and cold, they painted the education hall and event hall to house a local Mason’s meeting, windows were covered over to retain the mystic inside from escaping and meeting furniture set to specifics as required. All tasks were completed just days before the celebration.
John was to work at the farm and I was to help in our stocked-full-of-Texas gift shop as extra help.
As it were, the cold drove visitors into the center so I primarily sold hot beverages, keeping things flowing by bagging and refilling the shelves. It suited me, keeping me happily moving all around greeting the celebration visitors. I was completely spent by the end of the day from all the activity but awoke ready to face the crowds the next day, even with the Texas weather being as uncooperative as possible for such an important celebration.
John helped in several areas on the farm, giving visitors the low down on what life was like in the 1850’s, what part pigs played for survival, the living conditions of Anson Jones’ slaves and his favorite (besides eating the farm cooked meals) was working with the Oxen under the guidance of Bruce, an employee. Bruce stopped for a drink, 1850’s style, from a farm grown hollowed out gourd.
The second day was slow so I was able to visit the farm and get a shot of John walking Slim, a Pineywoods Oxen, out of the farm pasture to the pasture next to LilyPad.
No rain the first day allowed local musicians to play inside and out. The Lone Star String Band, a group of professionals, played in the visitors center and down on the farm.
A giant team of Longhorn Oxen stood by the visitor center entrance and allowed celebrators a photo op. They stood patiently for hours while people milled around them.
Several noted local authors came to sign their books; Sharon with The Burning of Brenham,
Garlyn with The Donkey Boy, Father Forgive Them and The Rachel Plummer Story
and Laurie with Magnificent Sam.
Our local bee keeper, Lorelei, brought displays,
Paula the laundress and Happi the soap maker gave demonstrations,
our neighbor and fellow volunteer Richard was a period interpreter and was showing off his mug made from real horn,
and a whole group of Interpreters shared stories of 1850’s adventures while throwing back a cold one (soda) at the Inn.
The second day had fewer visitors so John and I were able to take a break and walk the area, visiting some of the farm demonstrators. Dave the blacksmith was an entertaining fellow with impressive forging skills. Using period style tools, he fashioned dozens of cooking and hardware items, then used a copper rod to demonstrate the making of a tiny masterpiece.
The resulting awesomely beautiful copper leaf was presented to me to hang in LilyPad.
In the Barrington Farmhouse, Betty was demonstrating tatting.
We wandered to the side field where the Texas Army was headquartered, complete with period tents, furnishings and all participants in period dress.
The camp even had its own blacksmith for repairing wagons and making tools.
Along with their two canon’s which were fired off during the celebration, the group was living as they had back in the late 1800’s. Although they were scheduled to stay the weekend, the chilly soggy weather chased them all back to their “real world” homes.
An enjoyable celebration even with the never ending dampness that stayed both days.
The event marked the highlight of the preceding three months volunteering. Best part of the experience was the absolutely amazing staff…friendly and helpful…loved being in their company.
Packed up and ready to move on to our “home base”, we said our good-byes and departed, the drive being a few easy hours on smooth roads all the way to Rayford Crossing RV Resort. Home again, home again jiggety-jig.
Time to enjoy family and friends, revisit doctors, stock up on supplies and plan our next roadway direction. Our objective, to visit as many family and friends along our route as possible before reaching Massachusetts.
This time our “It’s Always Something” wasn’t even our fault but we are still stuck with part of the cost. Unless we find the exact mower that hit us and they admit to the accident, we will end up paying the $500.00 deductible for which we hadn’t planned. I argued that it would be covered for a car hit-and-run, but they came back with “a motorhome isn’t considered a car”. It would be covered if a vehicle hit a “sticks and bricks” house but they stated “because it is mobile, it is not considered a house”. Tried every conceivable scenario but all my arguments were lost causes. Ah, the joys of paying all that money to insurance companies just in case something happens, then having something happen and finding out you are not totally covered.
Soon we leave the comfort of our familiar surroundings for the first leg of our trip. The music in my head starts softly a few days before our departure, picking up Willie’s smooth crooning words, On The Road Again. When we leave Friday morning, the song will be pumped up so loud, the windows will vibrate as our wheels creep away from our site. New England, here we come!