Texas

It was a cold and bright morning and we were off to Texas. We wanted to stop at a place called Lucille's to eat and flew past it on the road. My GPS had failed me once again.  But wait! There's an identical building just ahead with the same name! And this one has cars parked in front of it!

I guess someone wanted to replicate the old rest stop closer to town.

We also passed by a leaning water tower which was built leaning next to a truck stop to attract customers, and a hundred-some foot cross on the other side of the interstate. I admit to photographing these out the window of our moving vehicle.

At the church with the huge white cross, we could've visited and even  series of more life-sized crosses arranged in the "stages of the cross." This term being unfmilir to me, I looked out the window and said, " ooh, there's three crosses! And there's a cross! (pause) and another! (pause) and another!" It took me bout seven crosses and wondering how many crosses there were going to be to realize I had begun counting telephone poles.

We also stopped at a run-down building with five or six old vw bugs standing up covered in graffiti with their noses buried in the ground. It was dark and we used our headlights to help with photos. This was an excitng precursor to the next day's viitto cdillc ranch (more on that later), especially for someone who loves junk art. 

I had my first fried pickles and got another glass bottle to take home. Not long after, we arrived at the Laur's, much to the delight of their little white fluffy energetic dog Mumbles!  Mumbles and I made friends.

It was dark when we arrived, but we could tell already that the landscape had changed. Finally, we weren't in the east anymore.

Yeah. It took that long.

The deer here are bigger.

That reminds me: at the house in OK, the walls were covered in paintings, photographs from all different time periods, and lots and lots of deer heads. There were skins hanging over the railing overlooking the foyer. I loved it. Back home, if something's going on the wall, there seems to be a two-yer thinking/waiting period before it goes up. Negative space is very important. The walls in Texas are filled, too. I liked that the Laurs told us about the art on their walls.  I like when people share my mentality, "if you like it, hang it up!"

But one thing is the same: when in doubt, people will name their streets after dead presidents.

Texas has taller billboards, more tacky big statues of cowboys, cows and horses (we actually just passed by a giantncowboy boot), more trucks (there are even places with stacks of truck beds five high and dozens wide, and trains stacked with truck beds), and bigger steaks than I've seen so far.

Driving through some of the more desolate locations, I wondered aloud why anyone would want to live there. (And previously I had come to understand why Missouri might sometimes be referred to as "Misery.") Heather pointed out that everybody has to live somewhere.

I have to point out that I don't really know why people settled in PA either, with about 5% of the year having nice weather.

It's all kind of low and dusty, but when I went in the two different churches where Mr and Mrs Laur work, I started to see why someone might enjoy living in Amarillo.

Mr. Laur is the organist and choir director at his church. Besides the sun-filled sanctuary, my favorite part of visiting was meeting his coworkers. I couldn't believe how genuinely friendly they were and how excited they were to suggest must-see locations in town.

Mrs. Laur does a whole lot of everything - including teaching - at her church, which has a traditional service in an elegant, sanctuary with dark wood and stained glass simultaneously with a contemporary, family-friendly service downstairs. 

I was shocked and awed by the four large paintings in the entrance hallway. Upon first glance, they look like the paintings from sixteen the century Europe that have darkening varnish and all look the same.

Upon second glance, I see four scenes: Mary and Martha, the prodigal son, the good Samaritan, and the poor woman with the two pennies. They have been painted within the last fifteen years and are secretly full of color, generous paint application, imaginative color choices, and an illustrative style that I am glad exists in this world. He paints like the old masters but doesn't let their fading paint and rusty ideas take over his soul. He includes dozens of flawless fabric studies in each painting, he uses atmospheric perspective and adds unnecessary yet helpful elements to the paintings. But he does it in a way that I can't stop looking. He thinks of everything, whereas another might only hurry to finish the painting and lose focus paint the elements separately, and call it done when it's not.  I saw God through the stories in the paintings and through the incredible gift God gave the painter. 

People out here don't speed as much and don't tailgate as much. It's refreshing.

We ate "tex-mex" at Ruby Tequila's which I totally ruined because I had only awoken an hour before and stuffed my face with a muffin and a half, but I got the idea that it was a fun-loving place with great food that's not TOO Mexican (that's what they told me when I said I don't love Mexican food).

That day it was beautiful outside. It was the second beautiful day of our journey. To Heather I stated, "good weather just puts me in SUCH a good MOOD!"

"Yeah, and everybody else, too."

Good point.

About this time I realized my boots would stay on my feet without me lacing them each time I put them on. My boots from then on became slip-ons. No loosening, tightening, tying, (oh, we're going out again? - repeat process) anymore.

That's right, for some reason, I didn't bring my fake boots that lace up the front but zip up the side. Okay, well, not some reason. It was a style issue. If I'm going to spend a month in one pair of boots, it's going to be the flowery ones. So there.

One special conversation I had in Texas started when I was talking with my hosts about the Oklahoma memorial I had just seen. I asked - because I had always wondered, how the events of 9/11 affected people who were far across the country and more physically removed from the situation. The answer:

"Well, I'll put it like this: people driving home from work that evening saw trucks stopped along the highway with the drivers standing on top of them waving the american flag."

Wow. 

I sure got my answer.

So, everyone we met told us we HAD to see sixth street in Amarillo. As we drove down the street, the bail bond signs, car washes and empty lots confused us until we reached a T.  We obviously weren't on the right sixth street, but it had led us to Amarillo's centennial monument/park. There was a long pool with little fountains, lots of little stones with names, and a timeline around the pool with one hundred significant events in Amarillo's history: one for each year. Heather and I walked around trying to find the 90's and realized that sometimes important things happen before we're born.

But I haven't told you the best part: the source of the pool is this elevated water feature with a, ahem, monumental black granite globe (I could hug, like, half of it if i wanted to get my shirt wet) appearing to float on top. The water seems to make it spin perpetually on its side, not on the earth's normal axis. I wonder if this was designed so that Amarillo would be on a more important latitude as it spun by. Watching the perfect globe with the outlines of the continents spinning so oddly made me think of maps I've seen that are "upside down" - but if you flip all the labels so they're legible, it's just as correct. We only look at the solar system the way we do, thinking we're looking at it right-side-up, because we live in the northern hemisphere and we like ourselves and want to put ourselves on top. So I liked that this globe was spinning oddly, in addition to being visually striking. 

We found sixth street and what I might call its main attraction, The Nat. Once a Natatorium (where people would go to swim), this place is a vintage/antique/junk/craft-lover's dream. I was just bowled over, especially when I realized the front room wasn't the whole shop. (Duh, there used to be a swimming pool in here.) I adjust my browsing speed according to the size of a shop; more time in smaller shops to be respectful, but in THIS place, I had to constantly pan and sift and not stop for more than three seconds because if I stopped for longer my brain would fry by the time I got out. As it happened, my brain did come very close to this state. At first, I had a list of "maybe" items and as I kept looking I stopped wanting all of it. It was very strange. Like eventually the excess got to me and I didn't want to be a part of it anymore (but you know that's not entirely true because I would totally go back). I ended up buying a couple of thongs from the front room. The friendly room.

After that, Heather and I realized most of the other shops along the way were selling the same type of stuff as we had just waded through for what felt like so long. Agreement came easily as we looked in the windows or looked at the signs, identified the nature of the wares, said "nope" in unison and moved on.

There was one store we went in that was worth it just for the friendly girl working there. It was a combination route 66/vintage clothing store. They had gorgeous wedding dresses that I would have made a bigger deal about if not for the poufy shoulders.  The girl was encouraging and enthusiastic about our trip and totally into vintage (if you're reading this, hey girl!)

To wrap up Texas:

I, I actually ordered a steak at a big yellow restaurant called the Big Texan which boasts a 72-oz steak-eating challenge.

I also visited Cadillac Ranch (not sure what makes it a ranch) which looks really pitiful from a distance but becomes impressive up close. Layers upon layers of graffiti make for good photos and the flat, undeveloped landscape does too.

The two of us were reviewing our trip and we brought up Lincoln. "Lincoln? What did we do there?" I couldn't remember where we stayed or what we did...and Heather told me I was about ready to pass out even before we picked a hotel in Lincoln.

I'm about ready to pass out now, too. I'm in AZ now, in a semi-creepy town which randomly has an airport. But you still need to hear about my last days in New Mexico!