We weren’t the only ones displaced to Fredericksburg by Ike. Most of the other guests were from the Houston area, escaping the confusion and pandemonium back home. This meant that Sue and I had to do a switcheroo for our last night: We moved from our log cabin to the farm house next door. This house was built in 1925 as a wedding present when one of the homesteader kids got married. It was a very sweet house, and the rooms were enormous! (Or perhaps that was just the feeling after staying in our teeny cabin.) And it was really fun to be able to see inside another one of the houses on the property.
Our activities in the new house differed not at all from how we spent our previous days: reading, chatting, watching the sheep march past.
This feller decided to take a closer gander. Maybe he thought he would get some of our chocolate from the specialty shop in Fredericksburt. Dream on, little guy!
On Friday we packed up and drove back home, with a stop at the wildflower center for some planning implementation for Sue and some daydreaming for me. Then before I hot-footed to the airport we wandered around the Riverwalk in San Antonio and took a boat ride to learn more about the history of the park. See! We got our cruise! So it was half an hour and not one week, but it was fascinating. We got to smell fresh sassafras, see where LBJ spent his wedding night, bird watch, and learn about the architect behind it all, Robert Hugman.
My plane was of course delayed (it’s me traveling, don’t forget). But I returned home safe and sound to a happy hubby and puppy, thoroughly pastried-out and with my brain 5 books fuller. Not too shabby. Not at all.
Magrilless 
Okay, the real truth now… tell me about Italian Cabin Boys! Or maybe that was just the sheep speaking with an Italian accent!
Haven’t you heard?: What happens in the Pioneer Cabin stays in the Pioneer Cabin!
no, no, not Italian. “me” memory is perhaps fuzzy from all those virgin drinks, but it seems to me that ‘said cabin boy’ looked less like the sheep passing by and more like that ass keeping the sheep company. was quite a trip gals…. next year, same time, same place???? oh no, not the same place, we want water next time.
If we’re going to water, let’s do it either before or after hurricane season – unless you’re up for an Alaskan cruise!
gretchen, a small single wide trailer PASSED us on Highway 35 yesterday and Scott said it was exactly the right size for our future retirement home. And then I reminded him we had found the perfect house in Fredsburg..the 1920ish bungalow… what a perfecttttttt little house