This afternoon I drove to Gonzales for my aunt’s viewing. I exited IH10 and headed down Hwy 183 south towards Gonzales. A couple of miles down the road, I encountered a tiny house being moved, presumably to its permanent home. If only I could have hijacked it! 
Not sure if it was a Tiny Texas House, but the sighting happened a mere 7 miles from their headquarters!
Tiny cabin on the move!
I’m such a huge fan of the Tiny House Blog (where I first discovered Tiny Texas Houses) and am quite intrigued at recent entries about people building their own Conestoga wagon-style RVs, hitching them to their tow vehicles, and heading West. How postmodern is that?
I proceeded to my aunt’s viewing and entered the parking lot of the funeral home at the same time my uncle did. We were early and walked in together. Three family members were already there in the chapel restyling my aunt’s hair! Apparently, the funeral home hadn’t fixed it just the way they thought Aunt Mildred would have wanted it, so there they were, hairbrush and Aqua Net in hand, making it right. Oh, lord.
My cousins had to leave to go meet with the priest and fill him in on our aunt so he’ll have some relevant things to say during tomorrow’s funeral service, so I asked my 76 year-old uncle if he wanted to go for ice cream. He isn’t a churchgoer (nor am I), so I think the idea of talking to a priest made him twitch a little. I figured I’d give us both an easy out, so off to Sonic we went. He even treated! I tried to dismiss his offer to pay, but he got ornery, muttering, “no one ever thinks I have money, but I have money, I can pay.” I assured him that I had no doubt he could pay (he probably stuffs his mattress full of cash) and let him. Who am I to turn down free Sonic food?
After wolfing down ice creamy goodness, we took a little drive around town. I had heard Gonzales had a relatively new Frisbee golf course. I’d never heard of such a thing in my life and wanted to go see, so we drove over to the park. It used to be nothing but a few dirt paths under some pecan trees. Well, it still is, but now they keep it mowed, they put up the Frisbee golf course, and they moved the old Oak Forest bridge into from its original location into town, plopped it down over Kerr Creek, planted an historical marker, and WHAM! Instant tourist attraction. And to think, that park just used to be where the kids (read: me and my friends) would go to drink and make out. Judging by the empties I saw tossed out under the trees, it still is.
Old Oak Forest Bridge relocated to a Gonzales city park
After I dropped off my uncle at his truck, I left Gonzales and headed back home. By then, it was nearly dinner time, so I made some carne guisada. While I cooked, Lex took the dogs out for a long walk and then took herself on another walk, alone. The onions and garlic in the carne guisada were sauteeing in the pan and burning her eyes, one of the drawbacks to living in a small space. The vent hood can’t quite do enough to prevent cooking odors and fumes from becoming oppressive.
After our rather nummy dinner of tacos, I made an ice cream run to the convenience store down the street because Lex requested ice cream for dessert, but I’d eaten the last of it day before. Whoops!
Tomorrow is the funeral. I have an all-black outfit picked out, but I’m not putting it on until the very last minute. If I sit down in this house, I’ll never get all the white dog hair off my clothes before the mass. I’m rather looking forward to this whole funeral thing being over. I do want to honor my aunt, but the driving back and forth and making loads of small talk with family members and dressing up wears on a body.
Tags: family, food, Gonzales, history, Texas, tiny houses, Travel
