For a few years now, people have been moving out to the land around the bayou. The big pastures which had been lined with small elms and talo trees have now been wiped clean and sprout nothing but large brick homes. They've even cut the little trees along the old road. I guess they hindered the movement of the trucks delivering building supplies, or maybe the county is planning to widen the road to take all the extra traffic. Either way, I prefered the trees as neighbors.

Yesterday as I left my little niche, I noticed a dead possum on the road. The speed limit here is 15 MPH. How can someone not miss a possum when you're only going 15 MPH? I once missed a whole hog at 70, and in the dark of a moonless night, no less! Anyway, I just know it's MY possum. I found him in the garbage can three years ago; hardly big as a fuzzy dinner roll with a bare tail. He grinned up at me from the bottom of the can, like only a possum will, and we became instant friends. I turned him loose across the street where there is a large wooded lot, but he came back to live under the little pavillion where Kit has his hot tub. We've visited several times in the last 3 years, mostly when he would come to steal dog food off the back porch, or when he suprized the missus in the laundry room. All in all, he was a pretty good guy, and now I just know it was him, laying curled up on the road, and that just may be the last straw.

If all these city folks want to ruin the pastures with their big brick houses, if they all gotta come out here, with their Hondas and yard tractors and leaf blowers, with their inevetible convenience stores and traffic lights, with their stereos and swimming pools; if they want to run down MY possum, well, I'll make it easier for 'em!

I've been thinking about clearing out from the low country for a while anyhow. In fact, I've got my eye on a place out near the Big Bend country. If you keep going west past San Antonio for about 2 hours, there's an ancient spring and an old Texas frontier fort which was built there in 1852. The early settlers called the spring "The Mulberries", and the Army called the scattering of limestone buildings and parade grounds, Fort Clark. It was here that the black Seminole "Buffalo Soldiers" came in 1872 from their homes in the swamps of Florida. It was here that Ranald MacKenzie and his raiders headquartered for their far-ranging attacks against the Commanche. Here, George Patton spent his early career, before he drove his tanks into Hitler's Germany.

The old fort was decommissioned in 1946, and used as a dude ranch for 25 more years. In the early 70's the property was bought by a private development corporation and turned into a retirement/recreation community. Today, it still has over 80 of the original historic buildings, many turned into private homes or apartments. It's a gated area, utilizing the old army guardpost beside the spring, which also supplies a large swimming pool. There's an RV camp, golf course, recreation hall, and museum.

I first became aware of Fort Clark Springs, as it's now called, when we stopped there in our motorhome, on the way back from a New Mexico vacation, three years ago. It seems like a very nice place to live, and it's WEST Texas, so I like it already! It's hot (it is Texas, after all), with low humidity, right on the edge of the great West Texas Chiuauan Desert. Mexico is a half-hour south, Big Bend, a half-day west.

Now, let me tell you about one of the houses I'm looking at. Built in 1873, of heavy stone blocks, it's 2 story and huge. It was one of the original officers' quarters, with high ceilings, wood floors and four fireplaces. It's so large, that it has been divided into two townhomes, each with 3 bedrooms. Behind it, the little creek meanders from the old spring, and in front, past the rock-curbed street, is the former parade grounds, with the only nieghbors being the other historic buildings on either side. The grounds are mostly lined with old live oaks and persimmons, with a few ancient mesquites. But, the climate is so warm that several large palm trees are scattered along the streets.

You all know how I like the history of this era, and I've written a couple of times about the area (the White Shaman of Panther Cave is just a few miles west). So, I'm kinda getting excited about the possiblity of moving. Trouble is, my two grown sons have seemingly settled-in down here in SE Texas, so we'd probably split the family by a few hundred miles. Also, it would add at least 6 days additional travel to my business trips, which are mostly to NE Texas. But, I'm thinking that a few more days on the road is small price to pay, to live out west again.

I'm going out to Fort Clark in about two weeks to see some of the properties available, so I'll keep you informed. But, as I sit here looking out the nine large windows of my office and see the morning sun on the bayou, well, it'll be hard to actually leave. Oh, wait, I hear a leaf blower.....got to go pack my bags!

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), October 23, 2003

Answers

You could turn a neat place like that into a tiny bed and breakfast for a mule... hey, if you WANT Mike Mule out there, just holler. I'll give him to Kit. I've been thinking I need a nice rest in the city.

-- helen (I@AM.studying.really!), October 23, 2003.

Hmmmmmmmmn.

You ready for the change from LA wet & humid & flat with (what used to be trees) to west Texas dry & hot & humid & blue-northered?

Sounds like it!

-- Robert & Jean Cook (Cooks@home.ga), October 24, 2003.

But, but Lon.... so who am I gonna visit in the bayous???? Seriously - I hope you find just what you're looking for and that you love your new place so much that won't miss the old one at all.

And Robert, how can a place be dry and hot and humid??? Or does humidity mean something other than the opposite of dry in Georgia? ;)

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), October 25, 2003.

She ain't seen/felt/been immersed in San Antonio or Houston in the summer, has she?

-- Robert & Jean Cook (Cooks@home.ga), October 25, 2003.

Hi Lon. I'm sorry to hear about your possum. My daughter had a similar experience recently but the idiot that hit this one left it to suffer. My daughter came home late to find it dying on her front lawn. It was after midnight, but she arranged to meet the vet at the surgery to put it down, then walked home realising half way that she had locked herself out of the house. She's such a good hearted girl, I love her to bits.

I can't find Fort Clark on my map (not surprising). The best I can come up with at this stage is Rocksprings, but I may not be going far enough West. Any clues?

Hmm. Hot and low humidity, a big old building and a creek as well, sounds wonderful to me. I guess only you know whether it's the right time to make such a big move. Whether you gain more from the new place than you lose leaving the old one. Also what it will mean for Kit. New experiences versus old routines. Goodluck whatever you decide and have fun looking.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), October 26, 2003.

Carol, Rocksprings is real close. Look a little southwest for the town of Brackettville. Old Fort Clark is now in Brackettville, right on the eastern edge, and contains 2700 acres. I'm still very interested in moving out there, but through the years I've gotten quite alergic to the scrub cedar that is common just to the north of that area. I'm afraid that anytime the north wind blows (all winter), I'll be sneezing my fool head off.

Also, it would be much farther from the parents-in-law, and they are getting along in years now. I have offered to move close to them for about 5 years, but the missus doesn't seem too concerned. Probably just as soon as I actually buy the house in Fort Clark, she will decide we need to be in Tyler!

My main idea in all of this was to start investing in a place where we could retire in a few years. We don't have to move anywhere right away, but it would be nice to pick a place, and spend summers there, learning the area and learning if we really like it before we're any older. Fort Clark Springs seems great to me, being gated, with it's own recreational facilities and far enough from any major metropolitan areas that prices are still fairly low. And I love the idea of having enough room again. When we moved to the little cabin on the bayou, we left a houst in town that was 5000 sq. ft., and I miss having a real office, workshop, library, etc. I still have boxes and boxes of books and antiques and such that haven't been opened since we moved.

But on the other hand, there's been several times in the past when I thought I'd like to go camping in the RV, only to realize there was no place I'd rather be than on my own dock on the bayou. It's always been a quiet and peaceful place with good neighbors. So, this whole thing may turn out like most of my ideas - if I just give it time, it'll pass.

Now, tell me again. what part of Oz it is that you call home?

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), October 26, 2003.

Carol, also you might go here, and click on the "1873 Stone Officer's Home"

http://www.tejas-properties.com/Homes/homes.htm

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), October 26, 2003.

Redneck says, "Wall, hair way go agin." Yeah, I know. Ol' Lon gets itchy feet every few years. Sometimes he even moves. But it's a long way from the bayou to the limestone in more ways than one. And if there's anything worse than being thrown off your dock into the Bayou for your evil ways, it's being thrown off your dock into a "pear" patch. No, wait a minute, I've got something wrong here. Anyway, I think our Ga neighbor is right. It actually WAS humid out that way for about ten minutes when those Pacific storms blew some wet off the north end of the Gulf of California earlier in the year. Of course, two raindrops a half mile upslope will wash a school bus into the ditch in that country. Sounds interesting. If it was me, I'd worry that the Daughters of the Republic of Texas or some other snooty bunch of Austin women would pickett the front yard for worry that I'd defile the history of the place. But Ol' Lon would wear his campaign hat out on the front porch and convince 'em he was the new commander of the Fort hisself. He'd enjoy charming them into making him an honorary member and "won't you please have some of these cookies, Colonel Lon?" I'm just jealous because I don't have a plan of escape from suburbia (our two lane blacktop became a seven lane monster a couple of years ago and the convenience stores and CVS pharmacies are covering us up--Ol' Lon's bayou nightmare right here in River City)--also because I don't have the neat outfits to make it work.

Redneck nods and intones with a gap-tooth grin and a that'd-be-a-good- place-to-go-to-earth-for-awhile-when-I-get-in-trouble look in his eye, "Bwayna sweartee, uhmeegow."

-- J (jsnider@hal-pc.org), October 27, 2003.

Hi Lon. Well look at that. I found Brackettville and I wasn't too far off the mark. I'm not doing too badly for someone with absolutely no natural sense of direction.

Thank you for the link. The house looks lovely. I can just imagine you sitting on that nice verandah on a summers evening, sipping an ale and saying "hi" to people strolling past.

Investing in a place so you can see if you like it sounds like a great idea. It would give you somewhere to go when you get itchy feet or it gets too humid where you are now. You could practise being retired, sort of ease into it. Whatever you decide at least you have the pleasure of dreaming and planning.

Seems funny to think of a north wind blowing all winter. Here it blows all summer and has the same effect. Itchy eyes, runny nose and sneezing.

I live in the south east corner of the state of South Australia, not too far from Mt. Gambier. This whole area has recently been re-named the Limestone Coast for tourism purposes, but most people still refer to it as the South East.

Lol J. Colonel Lon eh! I'll have to adjust my mental image of Lon. I'm sure he would love sitting on his new porch with you, telling er..stories. You two would probably draw quite a crowd.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), October 28, 2003.

snider, I'll have you know I'm ALREADY a memeber of the Daughters of the Republic! And we're not snooty! We're just rather selective as to which riffraff we don't fraternise with, or not. But, do stop by for tea and crumpets some time - just be a dear and use the servant's entrance, O K?

Carol, I'll have to go through all the old National Geographics I have stuffed in the bottom shelves, and find a map of OZ. I can't quite grasp a summer north wind. Does Santa live at the South Pole down there? Do you have blue southers? Here, the south wind blows in right off the Gulf of Mexico, and you wear it like a soggy overcoat.

-- Ole Lon (Colonel to you riffraff) (lgal@exp.net), October 28, 2003.

Lon the maps I'm using are very old Nat. Geographic ones, I just knew they would be useful someday.

No, Santa still lives in the North Pole. Wouldn't want to confuse the littlies. Sorry I don't know what a "blue souther" is, but our south wind travels up from the Antartic. It feels like it will freeze the end of your nose off.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), October 30, 2003.

Lon--already a member? Well, that explains the skirts. I been wondering about that. And don't try to tell me it's a kilt. I know the difference between gingham and tartan.

Carol--to explain the "blue souther" item, here in Texas the cliche for a hard cold front from the north is "blue norther." The term was no doubt coined up on the high plains. There's an altitude difference generally near the south end of the panhandle of Texas known as "the Caprock." Everything above that is flat farm country (historically a vast grassland, it was turned into farmland largely by virtue of discovery of the monster Ogallalla (sp?) aquifer that facilitates irrigation). The residents of the high plains referred to the big weather systems from the arctic as blue northers based on their approaching appearances as a thin blue line spanning the northern horizon. Another cliche is that when they hit, it feels like there's nothing between Amarillo and the North Pole but a barbed wire fence with one wire down. The effects are, no doubt, similar to your feeling like the end of your nose is in jeopardy. The blue northers usually come in fast and can be accompanied by considerable wind. In that flat, unforested country, you can see them coming with plenty of time to put your coat on.

-- J (jsnider@hal-pc.org), October 30, 2003.

Lon in a skirt?! The mind boggles!!

Oh, and speaking of blue northers... we just had an arctic front move in. We've had a couple of days of snow, drifting snow and flurries (yes, that's yet another euphemism for snow). This evening as I wended my way home from a forlorn trip (another story), I noted that my temperature guage was reading -10 (about 14F) and headed downward :-( Like my lips. :-( Winter has joined the party.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), October 30, 2003.