Locals call it da 'Burg,
Fritztown, Fredtown, Fred,
and any other number of assorted endearments.
I just call it home.
Ever since I can remember,
I wanted to live here.
Right here, where I am right now.
Even before I was a blogger or a photographer,
my inner artist's heart always felt called
to the town of schnitzel and wineries,
of countless B&Bs and all things peach,
and street after street of the
loveliest historical homes
I've ever seen.
And then in 2010, it happened.
It actually happened!
We secured our own little piece of da 'Burg,
and all was well with my heart.
I've made countless friends here,
kindred spirits that while I knew existed,
I scarcely realized just how close they were,
geographically speaking.
There's really nothing like that feeling of coming home.
Not just a house or a city, but home.
A place where you feel that somehow,
if you are the sort to believe in past lives,
you spent at least one or more lifetimes in this welcoming place.
You see that photo above?
Taken on one of my multiple weekly visits to only
the best and friendliest coffee shop you'll ever find, Java Ranch.
Owned and operated by Gordon and Vikki King....
All the baristas are my friends,they know what I want
and how I want it before I even step up to the counter.
It sounds corny, but it's like the old theme song to "Cheers"...
it's where everybody knows your name.
My name.
{ photo by Thomas Adams }
And the photo above...
Ahhh yes I remember that day well.
It was a monthly visit to the best flea in the world
{ lots of "bests" here, ya know? },
Fredericksburg Trade Days.
As I am wont to do, I approach any and all canines
with a pet and a scratch and the requisite baby talk
all pooches deserve.
This fella, while appearing a bit daunting on first sight,
was just a sweet little guy who humored me while
I made a little small talk....all the while making sure
that he held on that monkey with a death grip.
After all, a guy never knows when some strange chick
is gonna abscond with his favorite snuggle toy.
I think it all comes down to this.
I was a nomad throughout my formative years.
My childhood and teen years were spent moving
from State to State, school to school,
Nothing was ever permanent, not as long as the
old man couldn't get his crap together long enough
to hold down a permanent job and provide
his family, me and my mother, with some semblance
of a safe and secure environment.
A home. A real home.
We never owned a home,we were always renters.
I could drone on for hours about
how I lost big in the father lottery,
but that's not the point.
My point is that right here, right now,
in Fredericksburg, Texas, I feel a sense of home.
It's an unmistakable gut instinct
that in my many years on this planet,
I am exactly where the Almighty wants me.
And to a girl who always felt the sand shift beneath
her feet, that's something.
There has been some talk about us moving again recently.
Nothing definite, but just a reassessment of whether or not
financial issues will make it feasible to remain in our current home.
And while this would break my heart,
that would be nothing compared to the
crushing loss I would feel if we had to leave this community.
They are more than neighbors and friends now,
they are my family and my home.
So place me in a shanty on the edge of town,
or find me an old RV with a comfy cot.
Either way, I'm not budging.
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