Winter in Texas

Winter has reached even into Texas, well north Texas at least. I guess I expected that driving nearly 2,000 miles SW would get me away from winter. It hasn’t snowed down here just south of Dallas/Fort Worth yet, but it’s been in the high 20’s a couple of nights. I look at the temps down in Big Bend NP longingly. The picture above was back in Natural Bridge VA, the day after I left Providence Forge.

I have been welcomed here at the North Texas Airstream Community by an old friend and a new friend. The old friend is letting me stay on his guest lot, and feeding me. We went geocaching once, shopping, and out to dinner, and I’ve been to a few of the park’s meetings. I am waiting for word of work at Big Bend, getting a new fuel lift pump on the truck and some other work, and trying to get into a holiday spirit.

We put up some lights, made a wreath, and I have my little tree up in my trailer. My cookie offerings are on their way to my children, and my cards too. Since I might (hope) to be called for work, I feel very transitory and adrift, do I plan my Christmas to be here, buy some small things for my hosts, have dinner with the rest of the older Airstream folks here at the park? Or do I just ignore Christmas? Can I find a redeeming good deed to do here where I am a stranger?

Both of my friends have lost partners and spouses, so I don’t have to pretend, and they are a comfort that way. My principal difficulty is with food, as I love to cook and feed people, but they are both vegetarian, and worried about unnatural foods and ingredients. My offers to cook are met with a close examination. There is no Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s for miles and miles so usually I’m not acceptable.

Cookies. It turns out that the cookies that were traditional were only ones that Don liked, that my children didn’t like most of them, so I tried to make what they like. But I don’t get to see them eat, and there is little point in making extra just for me to eat. One cookie, called snowballs or pecan sandies was a particular favorite of Don’s, I’m not even making them, nor the ones with cherries that my excellent mother-in-law taught me to make. I’m finding that having no one to cook for is very hard. And since that was a major part of Christmas, I am tempted to just forget it all, and hunker down until the days get longer, maybe hibernate in bed with books and chocolates.

NTAC is an odd place. Most lots have “villas”, which are rather industrial looking metal sheds that have room for the Airstream to be under cover and hooked up, and then various configurations of rooms, like a bathroom, laundry, kitchen and maybe a bedroom or two. Mostly intended for storage, a lot of them seem to be lived in, the trailer sitting dark and idle. On one side are fancier brick houses, with a covered carport for the trailer or motor home. There is a barbwire topped chain link all around and an electric gate. We are on the outskirts of Hillsboro, doesn’t seem like the security is warranted. There is a metal building with a hall, kitchen, library meeting room and an office, and another with a work shop, and that’s it. No pool, no tennis courts. I don’t see where anyone could be sitting outside on a nice day. I’m told most residents are elderly, some very elderly. The Ladies committee meeting I went to spent time organizing cards for those in the hospital or nursing homes. I don’t know how many of these people get out and travel and how many are just waiting here for death, but I don’t belong here, and don’t want to. I’m underdressed and bored. Some of them are wearing stockings…..

A Christmas to be gotten through. I imagined that the migratory world of National Park workers would invent some instant community holiday festival down at Big Bend as everyone there is away from “home”. There I would find at least a younger group and an activities director to keep things bubbling along, right now I dunno if I’ll get there by then.

I haven’t much cheer to send you, getting through the holidays has always meant burying myself in cooking and decorating and wrapping, now I’m not doing that. Only hanging here like a lone ornament, reflecting the light of others as best I can.