Stop and Stay a While

When we left the Austin area, it was Friday of Easter weekend. We didn’t have a place booked or have a clue where we were going. We had planned to head south to the Gulf, but we realized our timing was bad and the last thing we wanted was to be down there amidst the crowds of Spring Break.

Brent opened one of our campground apps and started calling around, getting nothing but “no availability” responses with at least five calls straight. Then, he located an RV park that was isolated on the map, out all on its own in an area off the beaten path and nowhere near our planned route of travel. They had a spot—several—and Brent left the conversation smiling that the lady he’d spoken with was incredibly friendly.

We found ourselves on Farm-to-Market roads most of the way here and were so well into rural farmland, I began to wonder what we’d do for the week. When I turned in to the park, my eyes almost glazed over in tears of joy: green grass, a pristine and well-planned layout, built-in limestone “outdoor kitchens” in each site, and a gorgeous pool overlooking a lake with cows grazing the land across the water—a picture completed with a red barn on the green hillside amongst them.

I found our site, where Brent had parked and Evelyn had already helped to settle in (Kailyn and I had done some shopping in Austin before following out of town). We ate lunch, went for a walk around the park, and were greeted by smile after smile as people emerged from their RVs to say hello.

By that afternoon, Brent was chatting with our next-door neighbor and Evelyn was playing tag with their seven year old grandson who was visiting for the weekend and we were surrounded by nearly a dozen more welcoming neighbors who stay here long-term, eager to make new acquaintances and share stories and laughs. Our neighbors, Anna and Stanley, had moved into the park recently since selling their thousand acre ranch and are building their new custom home on their newly acquired acreage in nearby Lockhart. We soon met Irey, a retired Special Forces veteran, and his wife, Robin, the heart and soul of the community. Dee and her dog Skeeter, from across the street, quickly warmed our hearts. We were promptly invited to the next Thursday night outing to the local Red Rock Saloon; everyone was still glowing over the fun they'd had there the night before.

The next morning, I met Kelly, the owner of the park. She owns the entire property including that across the lake—the idyllic ranch with cows and the red barn I’d smiled at when I’d arrived. She shared a bit of her story and about her son and family and she recommended things to do with Evelyn, including the San Antonio Zoo and DoSeum, a children’s museum, in San Antonio. She also told us about a group of homeschoolers in Lockhart who meet every Friday at the park and urged us to go meet the families. She told us about huge Easter parties she hosted on her ranch over the years—hundreds of kids and hundreds of eggs hidden all around the property. I told her how very fortunate I felt to be able to celebrate Easter here with my daughters.

Easter

Here, I must digress. Last Easter, we were in the Monterey Bay area in California. We struggled to find a decent place to stay and out of desperation, we resorted to staying the week in an RV park that was incredibly overpriced and that was basically an expanse of asphalt. The only green grass area was the dog walking area and it was well-used and well polluted. Sites were separated by lines on the pavement and a small lattice fence over the sewer and hook-up area of each spot. I fought back tears over the lack of that perfect Easter egg hunt picture in my head that morning—Evelyn held her little basket and walked our tiny asphalt site, finding eggs hidden on my car bumper, on our trailer bumper, and under the truck tire. She didn’t mind—honestly, she didn’t—but I didn’t want that for this year. I wanted green grass and some space. We got so much more than that here…

I could hardly wait to get the girls out to the pool area where the Easter Bunny had hidden their eggs! Our new friends around the park had been up and walked some of the paths scattered in eggs that morning and were beside themselves with excitement for the two new kids on the block! They reported being out with their dogs and discovering brightly colored eggs all along their walk, feeling nearly what they had felt as kids: “The Easter Bunny was here!!”

Evelyn and Kailyn both had an Easter egg hunt to remember that morning. When it was over, we took turns hiding eggs for each other again and again—and this continued throughout the day and in different areas of the park, including the green hills scattered with wildflowers.

Friends and Neighbors

Feeling like part of a neighborhood these past weeks has been priceless. Everyone knows Evelyn (“She is just a honeybee in a jar of jam, isn’t she??”, our new friend Irey marveled); everyone waves and stops to chat; everyone looks out for each other and their pets. I found myself doing Zumba in the lodge and walking the property with some of the women here, feeling motivated to focus on my health again and enjoying the company all at once.

Our dogs were welcomed right into the pack and when we all stop to chat with new friends, dogs are off their leashes to socialize with their new friends, as well. Neighbors help themselves into each other’s RVs to take the dogs inside on walks while their people are at work or away for the day. I jumped right in to that neighborhood practice and had the pleasure of taking our neighbor dog, Skeeter, out for a stroll to the lake yesterday morning while his person, Dee, was away for a long day at work. In turn, when we were in San Antonio for the day yesterday, our new friends Robin and Irey came over to take Heidi and Emmy out for a stroll and to keep them company.

Being here, it’s the first time I’ve felt safe letting Evelyn take Heidi out for a walk on her own or ride her new bike out of my sight. When she sees a neighbor out strolling with a dog or taking laundry to the laundry room, her breath catches and she asks, “Can I go say hi?”, before running full speed over to the lucky recipient, who is already exclaiming “Evelyn!” with open arms waiting for a hug.

Whizzerville Hall

McMahon is a small town—so small, in fact, that it was in danger of being swallowed up by developers acquiring land a few years back. This is a threat I’ll get back to, but on the small Farm to Market road that houses our RV park, there is a small strip of local businesses who were planted when the community was born and are clearly weathered and wizened with time and experience. One of those small, weathered buildings is christened “Whizzerville Hall”, and we’d been tipped in the park that their pizza is like no other.

We visited Whizzerville late in the day one evening, and while we were there we were surrounded by locals in camouflage, muddied denim, and well-worn baseball caps who were ending their long days with pizza, beer, and company. We overhead talk of raising pigs and selling eggs. More than one person stopped to smile and chat with Evelyn and Kailyn. We even met a woman in her 80s who was a long-time resident of the small town. She described how she and the owner of our RV park and the owner of Whizzerville, amongst a select few other local families, fought to keep developers out by buying the entire town themselves! They succeeded in acquiring as much property as they could individually, and then the owners of Whizzerville stepped into acquire the rest and open the small pizza place to bring in local money and have a place to visit. The pride and work ethic this community is a microcosm of what we’ve felt in Texas since being here—accountability, community, dedication, and integrity that stands strong and brave while remaining humble and grounded in values.

We were the last to leave Whizzerville that evening. The owner began bussing tables and Evelyn leapt out of her seat to help without being asked. She chatted while she gathered shakers and dishes from tables and followed the owner’s lead by setting them up on the bar to be collected (video to the left!). The owner smiled and welcomed her help, all while chatting about how the Final Four in San Antonio had them preparing for more than 100 NAACP players coming the next day. She said that a few players had made the more than hour long journey up to Whizzerville from San Antonio during last year’s games on a tip and a whim and loved it so much that they were making an actual event of it this year! She was more than a little nervous and stressed about prepping for the next day, but it was obvious she and her establishment were huge supporters of college sports; we later learned that her husband is actually a huge stake-holder in the field.

We left Whizzerville Hall that evening feeling intrigued and impressed, warmed to the core by the culture, heart, and soul surrounding us.

Evelyn’s Birthday

Everyone in the park knew Evelyn’s birthday was on Thursday—how could they not??

When her day arrived, our neighbors came bearing gifts to sing to Evelyn and spend time celebrating her day with her. They marveled at her new bike, colored with her in her new coloring book, and helped her assemble her new puzzles—all freshly gifted and opened. We all sang to her and toasted her 6th birthday over cupcakes. My heart bubbled over in joy. Here, in the heart of Texas, Evelyn was surrounded by a community of neighbors and friends we’d only known for a week, yet who felt like old friends. Evelyn smiled from ear to ear, but the fun was just beginning.

This is honestly a post begging to be its own, so I’ll get back to her big night, but know for now that she left her mark that night and it is a birthday she will never forget!