Babette & Miladus

And here, after the flora and fauna, are finally some memories of the people in Texas—my parents, my cousins, and my brother and his boys, whose visit overlapped mine.

Dad set up his tripods so that I could take pictures during my visit. I had hoped to get the road runner, but he snubbed me this time.

Dad (dressed in his anti-chigger clothes) and his beloved tool room.

My aunt Wilda, in the guest bedroom I always share with her when I visit.

The parents in their Suburban.

Hurray! The last of the cabinetwork is finished! After eight months of construction, the bedrooms and kitchen are done.

When we went to Clark Gardens, Auntie hit her hand on a bridge as we zoomed over it at high speed in the golf cart, and I bandaged it for her after Dad removed all the splinters.

I had always missed out on going to the Catfish Café, down on the Brazos River: the best fried catfish and handcut French fries I've ever tasted. It's filled with Elvis memorabilia but parked outside are either big SUVs or Cadillacs, attesting to the local appreciation of the food.

This is the bridge over the Brazos. No comment…

Momma checking out the menu…

…and Auntie. After much indecision, we all had the same thing: catfish and fries, and although we got the smallest plate, we still couldn't finish it all.

On Saturday, Dad took the whole gang to the Granbury Opera House to see No, No, Nanette: good summer-stock theater. Here, the Opera House.

My favorite first cousin Jeanne waits with Mom and Auntie for Bill to park the car; the lady on the right chowed down the whole time and would not leave the picture: greedy in multiple ways.

The curtain inside the theater.

After the matinée, Dad took us all to Granbury's best restaurant, Stringfellows', in the old Granbury House, which has been remarkably well restored. In spite of a rather protracted power outage, the chef made us all first-rate meals and we enjoyed ourselves tremendously. Serious food.

Tuesday, my brother and his boys arrived. Here, Bill and his son Philip.

And my beloved nephew Erik, with his omnipresent Powerbook.

My favorite second cousins, Dawn and Joe, had the stamina to have the entire herd over for dinner at their lovely home in Fort Worth. (Brave people…)

My aunt Belle, Dawn's grandmother and Jeanne's mother, is still going strong at 90. I adore her: an elegant and gracious person.

Wednesday was a full day. First, we all went horseback riding. Here, Mom, Erik and the Headless Horseman.

Bill and his boys wait to saddle up.

Philip ready to go;

Erik and his pony both chomping at the bit;

While Dad tries a first time,

and then a second,

and finally gets on top with a little help from a stepping stool.

Mom and Dad hadn't intended to ride with us, but we convinced them to take the plunge. Mom happily up on Old Paint

We went down through the fields and along the middle of a creek.

Bill, on a rickety thing he called Old Blue Eyes.

And with our charming and patient guide.

I asked Bill to take over the video responsibilities while I took the still shots. After a bit of study,

He quickly figured out the video camera, and slung arouand like something out of Cat Ballou.

And here is a shot of everybody but me!

Mom in the saddle early in the ride,

and Dad.

On the way to the corral at the end of the ride,

both Mom and Dad were a bit tired.

Mom was stiff from the long ride and had a hard time getting off the horse, but Bill held her until her knees would support her again.

Which didn't take long—Dr. Pepper solves all ills! Not bad for almost 82.

Next stop: the shooting range, with Dad's carefully restored pistol and the little rifle he got for his 7th birthday. Mom watched us, ears carefully protected.

The whole tribe ready to shoot 'em up. I'd never shot a gun before. I was really very excited.

Pop was a bit skeptical of our shooting talent.

Bill, thoughtful as he watches his boys learn to shoot.

Dad explained to Philip how to use the rifle,

bracing the stock on his shoulder,

and aiming by aligning the sites.

Philip set his target as far away as possible and shot quite well.

Gun-totin' dudes.

Erik proved to be a good shot both with the rifle

and with the pistol.

A pleased boy with his target.

My brother in good form.

And even I showed a reasonable stance, although I did much better with the rifle than with the pistol (I bunched the shots, but all three inches to the right of where I thought I was aiming!).

We weary pseudo-Texans then repaired to the lovely ranch of my cousins Jeanne and Bill, where Bill, as always, cooked a magnificent meal in their enormous granite kitchen.

The ladies mostly stayed indoors in the shade, gossiping,

While my brother, Dad and Bill Betzel enjoyed the cool arbor outdoors under the live oaks.

The boys, of course, made a beeline for the pool.

Ranger, the Betzels' dog. He likes to sing along with my mother.

Bill is one of the most untiring, efficient and cheerful people I know. The lovely stone wall in the background is his own work.

A last shot to say goodbye to Texas: of the Betzels' longhorns as we left the ranch to go home to Two Trees.