This past weekend I was in Austin* — although not for SXSW, which means I am either less cool or more cool that SXSW-attenders — you can be the judge. (Just don’t tell me what you decide.)
I was there for a reunion of writers who have held residencies at the Dobie-Paisano Ranch in the 40 years since the program’s inception. Over the course of the weekend I had the chance to wear Ropers, hike in the cedar and caliche scrubland I love, eat Mexican food and talk writing. (Is it clear from that how often the Lone Star State tries its best to convince me that Texas and Heaven are comparable locales?)
During the course of the reunion, I also was given a commemorative mug printed with a photograph of the Paisano property.
Interesting thing is, three years ago The Husband’s mother gifted us with a coffee mug probably from the same source (Shutterfly) which sports a picture of our little family of four, sleep-deprived and not quite photogenic, that was taken soon after Younger Girleen was born.
Now, when I pour my morning coffee I can take my pick:
The Writing Life…
I have drunk from both this morning.
*The number of times I’ve been in Austin in the past few months may lead folks to believe I have a secretly interesting life: Not True.