Lisa and I spent a week in central Texas celebrating our 22nd anniversary. Our five-day vacation was a low-key affair as we spent most of our time “being,” not “doing.”

Our first two days were spent in Bastrop which was a complete bust: We arrived on Monday, only to discover the entire historic district inexplicably shuts down at 3pm every Monday and Tuesday. My favorite “watering hole,” a micro-brew pub outfitted with a covered deck situated on the Colorado river, was now defunct. Bastrop’s Visitor Center highly discouraged kayaking down the river because, “all the recent rains have trashed the river and sections are now way overgrown.” The local day spa didn’t offer pedicures, which didn’t seem to really matter since it too closed prematurely. Indeed, our Monday was distilled to a Schlotzsky’s drive-thru and an outing at the only movie theater in town, which also served as the town’s glow-in-the-dark putt-putt venue and smelly bowling alley. All the working teenagers I crossed must have sensed my seething disappointment since the drive-thru girl daringly charged me $1.69 for a cup of ice water and the kid responsible for manning the ticket booth seemed to take his time knowing we were late arrivers. I didn’t have the heart to fight anymore. Tuesday was marginally better: the highlight was old-fashioned griddlecakes at Maxine’s, followed by a hot hike through devastated Bastrop State Park (98% of the forest was destroyed in a 2011 wildfire) and a swim at the nicest public pool in town (run by the YMCA).

Starting Wednesday, things got appreciably better. We made our way southeast to Schulenburg to tour the Painted Churches. We hired a personal tour-guide at the Chamber of Commerce – “Ms. Pat” we called her. She was a retired school teacher, a proud Czech and a devout Catholic. We visited four churches in the area and thoroughly enjoyed her personal touch, historical perspective and the hometown folklore. We visited St. Cyril (Dubina), St. John’s (Ammannsville), Nativity of Mary (High Hill) and St. Mary’s (Praha). Afterwards, under the recommendation of Ms. Pat we stopped at Frank’s off the interstate for a mid-afternoon piece of pie. We cruised down Schulenburg’s quite streets and found an old couple walking into the historic Sengelmann Hall. On a whim we decided to park and investigate. Swinging open the doors, we were met by the sites and smells of a 19th century saloon. We enjoyed draft beers, an atmosphere thick with history and each other’s company. We also found great fascination in watching the locals stream in for dinner. The waitress invited us to explore the dance hall upstairs from the spacious 1894 dining room. Although dark and quiet, it was clear the dancehall was used regularly. Shafts of light beamed through the windows and the old pine floors groaned and creaked stories of friendship, festivities and broken hearts. That evening we made our way to Flatonia (10 minutes further west) for dinner at the Red Vault Bistro which was converted from an old bank, and before that the original Post Office. The restored bank vault, where the restaurant gets it’s name, was repurposed by the new owners as a wine cellar. That evening we lodged at at the historic Olle Hotel (est. 1915).

The next morning, after a tasty omelet breakfast at the Olle, we departed for Giddings to visit the Wendish Heritage Museum, where we learned of my paternal grandmother’s roots.

Later that afternoon we stopped in Elgin for a relaxing evening with Jean Brandau, one of Lisa’s sisters. We enjoyed visiting on the back porch and petting her horses. We also took joy in the awesome sunset and cool evening breezes induced by a nearby thunderstorm. The next day we visited my cousin Marie Richards, who runs a cattle ranch just outside of Elgin. She gave us the 4-wheel drive grand tour of the 400+ acres she manages, and introduced us to the ranch’s complexities, its never-ending obligations and her tireless devotion and dreams.

We ended our week by spending an evening with the Hine’s family, Lisa’s other sister’s family, and the next day we picked our kids up from camp. The ride home together was a sweet time wrapped in story after story from our children’s mouths about how good God is. God IS faithful and sure, even when our best laid plans are not.

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Well, I just about covered the extent of our vacation in Part 1: canopy to sun, sun to water, water to sun, sun to canopy, and repeat.  There was one other highlight well worth mentioning: our evening visit with Samantha (my cousin) and Jared.

From our town-home it was about a 45-minute drive to their house. We passed through small towns like Niceville in Okaloosa County, home of the “Boggy Bayou Mullet Festival” – I kid you not.  Once the highway 85 broke away from civilization, it crossed over creeks and draws, climbed rolling hills and sliced through dense piney forests.

Samantha and Jared live north on highway 85 in Crestview, not terribly far from Elgin Air Force Base where Jared is stationed.  We pulled into their neighborhood tucked into a wooded hilltop just before sunset.  We were greeted warmly with hugs and wasted no time getting a tour of their home. Samantha generously decorated their home in transplanted-Texas-friendly décor and rustic-contemporary furnishings. It felt like home.  She impressed us with homemade Italian white-bean soup, spaghetti, and garlic bread for supper. I don’t remember if salad was offered – I’m sure it was, but the soup was so amazing it could have been offered as a single-course meal.  Jared shared with Steve and me his Irish whiskey, stored in his personal white oak barrel cask. And while the kids enjoyed pies from the oven, we were all introduced to their children: Rosco and Daisy Duke. We concluded our evening with several lively rounds of Washers on the back porch. How is it I’ve lived in Texas all my life and have to go to Florida to be introduced to the game of Washers?

Our last day on the beach followed a brief morning front that blew the skies cloudless and the water clear of blooms.   The waves were high and strong, perfect for body surfing escapades that rivaled adventures at most amusement parks.

That evening the kids took a car to catch a movie and dinner while the adults enjoyed an evening at McGuire’s Irish Pub, complete with a bagpiper who walked around honking his horns at 110dB.

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This year’s family vacation was shared with the Hines family (Steve, Amy, Sarah and Emily). This was Sarah’s “last hurrah” before starting her undergraduate in the fall at the University of North Texas.  We were happy the Hines family was so willing to share her time with us.

As we crossed into Louisiana with our two cars loaded down like a couple overworked pack mules, I snickered to Lisa that we forgot our passports. (Indeed, Louisiana in many respects is like a foreign country.) A glance through Steve’s rear-view mirror reminded him of looking through a porthole window of a distressed cruiseliner. We kept our speed limit in check this time through Cajun country –  the last time we rolled through the state it was not very kind –  its state police tagged us going 78 in a 60.  Read about our last Louisiana adventure here.

We stopped for the night in Baton Rouge and dined on broiled oysters on the half-shell and fresh catches at Parrain’s.  Steve provided the complimentary hotel room using his stockpiled Hilton points and we enjoyed free libations and a cooked-to-order breakfast.

We set out in the morning and upon reaching our destination, a three-story town-home on Destin beach, we hastily unpacked the vehicles to take in the view from the two balconies.  The rush of the day simply vanished at first sight of the beach. The Gulf waters boasted a chromatic spectrum of emerald, from pale avocado at the surf to deep peacock-blue at the horizon.  The sand was ivory, moist, cool and clean.

Each morning Steve, Justus and I set up our EZ-Up canopy at the water’s edge which served as our home-base for each day’s activities.  We would all rotate from canopy to sun, sun to water, water to sun, sun to canopy, and repeat.  Scattered throughout this daily affair were naps, reading, snacks, picture taking, beach-side strolls and more eating. Since the town-home was on the beach, we hardly drove anywhere except to dinner and the grocery store.  By the end of the first full day, full-blown beach “bumification” was complete.

On Tuesday Steve, Justus and I enjoyed our first-ever deep-sea fishing expedition.  We each popped a Dramamine and boarded a fishing boat at 7am with several others. We traveled some twenty miles offshore and caught about two dozen Red and White Snapper between the three of us. Several were thrown back due to size limits.  Justus caught two very large cantankerous Triggerfish unfortunately out of season, so they too were released.  I fished next to an unassumingly quiet old man who limited-out by the second stop. I broke the silence by asking him his secret. He was kind, but divulged nothing.

Our wives were relieved upon our return. They had experienced thunderstorms on-shore that morning and were afraid that we too were caught-up in rain and lightning.  We explained that when we left shore it was sprinkling, but as we reached the open water we enjoyed partly-cloudy skies all morning.  On our return to the town-home, we stopped at Sexton’s Seafood market on Harbor Boulevard and bought three pounds of fresh gulf shrimp.  That evening we enjoyed a feast of fresh Snapper and shrimp over spicy rice.

The next day, I busted my pinky toe on the corner of the staircase. Steve and Justus heard the pop from across the room. Because of the immediate pain, all I could do was hold my breath, and over the afternoon my little toe swelled up like a red grape on a stick.  It’s healed up quickly but now it’s out of alignment and my cowboy boots don’t fit. You know what they say: “First-world probs.”

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Last Friday family and friends gathered at Goode Co. Seafood to celebrate Warren Edwin Brandau’s 80th birthday.  The evening was cold and blustery outside, but warm and festive in the restaurant’s cozy private dining room. For the evening’s festivities, two appointed waiters carried out their duties with a earnest devotion to serve with a generous helping of Texas friendliness.

Lisa and Nancy spent hours in advance of the party scanning pictures from old photo albums.  Lisa crafted some heart-warming videos using these pictures to retell Warren’s life from birth to present (video links are below).

And what video presentation over dinner would be complete without the bitter spice of troubleshooting?  Lisa’s laptop decided not to boot. Only after assistance from restaurant officials and the commissioning of Jean’s laptop, we managed to cobble together a technical solution.  Then, like a toddler who realized he wasn’t going to get his way, Lisa’s laptop stopped pitching a fit and showed off it’s desktop. Figures.

Rebecca also turned seventeen. Rebecca and Warren sang “Happy Birthday” enthusiastically to each other, blew out the candles and hugged.  Their tradition continues.

Yes, we were celebrating another year for Warren, but with family and close friends assembled in one place, it seemed to me we were also celebrating another year of life together. Our kids are now self-sufficient, budding students of etiquette and discourse, and no longer eating from a kid’s menu. Friendships are now deep and wide, to the degree that lines between family and friends are now blurred.  It was a great evening.

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