Waxahachie Texas: Deer Corn and Sunsets

If you ever happen to find yourself in Clarendon, TX - do yourself a favor and spend the night - do NOT drive through at night. (And many, many thanks to Miss K for arranging and directing me to the cleanest Best Western to date)

Driving out of Clarendon the next morning,  for the next 5 or 6 miles I saw Texas size roadkill - freshly killed Elk, a fawn here or there, raccoons; Some still intact, some maimed, some shredded.

Name it and I saw it. 

Interstate 40 bloodbath.

Later, in another small town I stumbled upon this:

What's Deer Corn you say? That's what I said! Later when I saw my Uncle, he told me Deer Corn ( a snack of sorts) is put into towers that spray deer corn around a designated area, which in turn lures the deer and makes them easier targets to shoot. Sort of like fish in a barrel.

I asked him - wait, wouldn't that be considered cheating in the hunting world? I mean, I watched Elmer Fudd and you have to seek and be patient and very quiet. My Uncle said well, you can look at it as cheating, but the deer population are killing the crops - apparently the deer have a voracious appetite and like to graze throughout the night.  So this is one way of controlling the deer population. 

Hunters - Happy. Farmers- Happy. 

Deer - not so much.

Then a little later, there was a convoy whizzing past me reminding me of America - who we are, where we are military and war wise, and who our soldiers are:

But then I saw it:

Let me tell you about the Fort Worth freeway exchange: It makes the Los Angeles freeway system look like Holbrook, AZ. Fort Worth freeway exchange is  crazy, complicated, chaotic, and has pick up trucks with enough testosterone to fuel every elder care facility in the world.

 Seriously. 

I got lost. Again, and again. 

I eventually called my friend Alan in NY.  So, via Manhattan, I was getting directions to Waxahachie. 

All I knew was I had to make a right on Bingham and a left at the end of the road.

I got lost again. And again. And again.

There was no Bingham. There was no cell reception. I drove and drove, and ended up at the cutest little vintage shop called Bon Ton in Forreston, TX. Two stories tall, the owners told me loads of folks from LA come into shop, and of course all the movie people when they're in town filming.

The owner had no knowledge of this Bingham Road. 

My Aunt called me worried - last we spoke I was 10 minutes away, and  45 minutes had passed. I had enough service to tell her I was making my way and not to worry - all the while I was flipping through the dresses and bags... (they offered to show me! They were going to closed the rest of the week! I had to!)

I found my way back to Waxahachie and this time my Aunt stayed with me on the phone to make sure I got on the correct road to their ranch. Turned out, the Bingham Road Sign has been down for quite some time. 

Almost an hour and a half after first speaking to my Aunt,  

I finally pulled into my Aunt and Uncle's driveway:

Just as the sun was setting:

I was really here. 

Deep breaths.