Yesterday, we awoke in Bastrop and decided to forego an early breakfast. Instead, we went searching for a place I had found the night before while searching the Internet for land in the area. It was advertised as a 3 bedroom, 1 bath home on 2 acres of land on the Colorado River. The best part was the price: $148,000. I had to see the place. So, off we went, looking for the home that would be ours, our little retirement haven.
We don't yet know what, but some special event was in the making in old downtown Bastrop yesterday. Main Street downtown was closed, as were all the side streets leaving into Main Street. People were everywhere, working to get ready for the "special event" that the signs warned of. We managed to work our way around the street closures and found our way to the house in question. It was among a number of other manufacturered homes, all of which had seen better days, partially hidden by chicken coops and dilapidated old fences and steep ridges near the river's edge. Our place was far off the road, but within spitting distance of houses on either side. The two acres, it seems, were configured something like a toothpick. Ah, well, our dream home in our dream price range was not to be, not yesterday. But the search goes on, at least in my mind.
From Bastrop, we backtracked to La Grange, home of the infamous "Chicken Ranch," a brothel that operated for decades before being shut down in 1973, thanks to a reporter for a Houston television station who decided there was something immoral going on around those parts and, better yet, that he could make a name for himself. The Chicken Ranch is long gone, but LaGrange has a nice courthouse, a pretty little downtown, and a nice park along the river. It's not a bad little place, not bad at all.
We decided to have breakfast at Frank's Place, an old restaurant on the square. While it may once have been an old-time country diner, it is no longer. I'm guessing it's a draw mostly to tourists (judging from the prices for breakfast). After finishing our expensive and somewhat disappointing breakfast, we drifted north toward Giddings. Giddings is another nice little town that merits another visit.
In Giddings, we decided it might be a good idea to head to Taylor, home of Louie Mueller's barbeque restaurant. Our collective memories said to us that we had never eaten there, because we had always tried it on Sundays...and it is closed Sunday. But, when we got there, we realized we had eaten there. That realization, coupled with the fact that the line was out the door and we were not particularly hungry, convinced us to move on.
We drifted north from Taylor and travelled numerous small, country roads that had virtually no traffic. By 2:30 pm, we had reached Bartlett, a small town where we had once stopped before for a little roadside barbeque at a little stand called Perez' Barbeque. It was still there, so we stopped. All they had left was a little brisket, so I ordered a bit and asked if we could sit outside, where there were a couple of other people sitting. Even though it was obviously intended as a resting spot for the owners/workers, they readily agreed. So, we sat at the table munching on brisket and having a conversation with J.J., a 72-year-old black man who retired from General Motors in Arlington, another young black guy and his very young son, and a Hispanic guy who was just visiting (I gather his brother and father run the barbeque spot) from Arizona. Just about the time we were ready to leave, the older Hispanic guy who served us came outside and asked J.J. if he'd brought the dominoes, because he was ready for a game.
As we were zig-zagging north and northeast, we began discussing whether we should look for another motel for the night or drive all the way back to Dallas. The lack of anything of particular interest to look for and a desire o save a few bucks resulted in the decision to head home. And, so, here we are.
We both need to get some work done at the office before we kick off the new year, but we sure don't want to. I'm already ready to hit the road.
No comments:
Post a Comment