Moo

I was like a middle school girl at a Hannah Montana concert. Excited, giddy, camera in hand. Reba sat next to me in the car, probably embarrassed for me...yet also a little entertained at my enthusiasm. We drove out 183, way south of the airport, which is as far as I had gone in the past.

She was taking me to her family farm. A farm! A real-life farm...with cows!

Yes, in all my life, I had never been on a farm. Not one that was owned by a family and had animals on it. And this one had cows. No barns or horses or those big tall things for grain, the names of which are escaping me at the moment, but still, it was a farm.

Reba's family has owned this gorgeous property on the Guadalupe River for years, and many times, she had invited me to to go with her to sit in the river on a plastic lawn chair reading a book. Yes, in the river. On plastic chairs. Next to the cows.

For my friends who know me from Chicago, you know how we grew up. We took field trips to Lamb's Farm - the little place in the suburbs by Great America and O'Hare Airport that had some animals. It taught us suburb kids that milk didn't just magically appear in the refrigerator section at the Jewell. We got an ice cream cone at the end and climbed on the yellow school to fight rush hour traffic back to Elmhurst.

In Elmhurst, we had Salt Creek. This tiny stream of water running through town smelled worse than the sulfur springs at Yellowstone. I'd never seen it clearly through to the bottom, even though it's only feet (or inches?!) deep in some places. I'd be afraid that if a small animal fell in, it would slither up and die. We didn't run around jumping in rivers or having rope swings. We rode our bikes on the Prairie Path to the local pools in the summer. We had block parties, but the city had to first come close off the street. Our neighbors were feet from our front door, and our playground was measured by driveways. Backyards became campgrounds and soccer fields and lands to explore. People in Chicago escaped - slowly on 294! - up to Wisconsin to lakes houses on weekends and in the summers. No one I knew had a ranch. Daily adventures took us over neighbors fences and across busy streets, not through the woods hoping to avoid snakes. It's a very different world out there...more like Ferris Bueller's Day Off than The Adventures of Huck Finn.

And I loved it. If I could wish one thing for anyone in the world, it would be to grow up with my childhood. It was fabulous. Ballet lessons and climbing trees in the same day. Dirt bikes - mine was pink, with a dolly basket! - and Barbies...I had it all. Swim team and soccer. Pony tails with bows and skinned knees from jumping out of those trees we climbed. I loved it!

But there were no farms or ranches or open flat spaces. I met a girl from a farm at orchestra camp when I was 14-years-old. [Note: Orchestra Camp is only slightly cooler than band camp. We were orchestra snobs, not band nerds.] She was really good at the violin. I told my friend it was because she had nothing else to do besides practice if she lived on a farm. We wondered, together and outloud, if they even had TV?

Friday was a totally new experience for me. Sure, I'd been around cows before, but not on a farm. We saw them at the Missouri State Fair in college when we went to the Tim McGraw concert and the Austin Rodeo about a year ago. But these were farm cows, which made it a little more entertaining.

I had my camera on the way but accidentally left it back at the house where Reba's parents live when we ventured down to the farm. They're a few miles apart from each other. I wish I had all kinds of pictures to post of the gorgeous pecan trees, tire swing and the wandering cows...especially when one of them decided to come join us in the river. We were slightly down stream, and Reba's sister warned, "If her tail goes up, run!" Fortunately, she just got a drink and didn't get too curious with all our stuff sitting on the bank. Hopefully, Rachel and Reba will post their pictures on Facebook. What would we do without Facebook?

Nonetheless, here are a few pictures from our hour-long trip out to the farm. We stopped for some world famous BBQ in Lockhart - yum! - and I learned all about the watermelon fest and county courthouses. All in all, it was a good day. If you ever get invited to go sit in the river at Reba's family farm, say YES...it's pretty fabulous!