Saturday, 24 April 1999
Well groomed cowboys
Did I mention that I love flowers? Did I mention that I adore wildflowers? Well, I do. Texas, (in my humble opinion) has the best wildflowers of anywhere and they have been in full springtime splendor these past few days.Although the bluebonnets are past their peak, there were still some scattered along the highways. There were fields and fields of Indian paintbrush along the way. I saw winecups, daisys, Indian blanket (my current favorite, verbenas, yarrow, primroses, crimson clover and quite a few that I didn't even know what they were.
They were all begging to be photographed, so I set aside some time this afternoon for that very task, obtained permission from Gaspar to run around on the ranch and picked a few good spots. Unfortunately, when we got up this morning, it was way cool and sprinkling or drizzling to the point that I couldn't take Alex out and about. Drat, drat, drat.
Much to her consternation, I might add. The child believes she should live outside.
Eric has a calf. Occasionally, there is a calf who is orphaned or its mother can't nurse it for various reasons. 
These little guys get put in the barn and bottle fed. Yesterday, Eric became the proud daddy of the latest calf and has to get up early every day to go feed it . .and again in the evening when he comes home from school.
Somehow, Eric's calf got out of the barn and took off running. Tony chased it all over the place and couldn't catch it; it was frightened half to death. Eventually, Gaspar got in the pickup truck with Tony in the back and they chased it down. Tony roped it out of the back of the truck. (all this ranch stuff fascinates me). Eric, instead of chasing his calf, got my camera. Cute little calf, isn't it?
Gaspar decided to take us all out to dinner tonight. There is a restaurant in Mineral Wells that, according to Gaspar, has the best Mexican food around. (I had the chicken/sour cream enchiladas and they tasted exactly like Tia's enchiladas - a local restaurant Tom and I go to for the gummy worm margaritas every few weeks).
While we were getting ready to go, Tony came to me. "Grandma, would you iron my jeans?"
"Why can't you wear them like that?" They weren't wrinkled or anything.
He looked at me like I was from another planet.
"I don't even iron Tom's jeans."
Another look at me like I was from another planet. "Do you even know how to iron, Grandma?"
*sigh* "Do you want them starched with creases in them? Set up the ironing board and turn the iron on for me."
"It doesn't take long for it to get hot, Grandma," he said.
I went to dinner with some well groomed cowboys that night.
