The Goats and Good Food
“Ted, I thought the healthy eating seminar was tomorrow morning. The notice on the refrigerator says it’s not until next Saturday.”
He’s trying to lose weight and I’m trying to cook healthy. Happiness abounds as we discuss the possibilities for a long drive in the country with this unexpected free time.
The sun blazed, but the clouds drifted grey above us. The weather lady said “possible showers.” After checking an interactive radar map of our area, it looked like the front would pass north of us. We loaded the dog, the dog bag, a snack, a real map, and Ted’s suitcase of photography equipment. He thought the day would be perfect for a trip to Tyler to see the roses.
Tyler’s reputation for its roses is world renown, especially in Texas. Mid-summer vendors stand in the streets of Dallas, while traffic zooms past, to sell bunches of Tyler roses: yellow, pink, peach, red, and white from the “Rose Capital of America.” Their festival in October attracts thousands who drive for many miles. Would the roses be ready this soon? We head that way. Ted asks, “Should we cut down to Highway 20 or take Route 80?”
“Let’s go by the goat farm. I bet they have little ones. We could stop on the way to take photos of the babies. It’s not far off Highway 80.”
We turned off 80 onto a paved two-lane road, where we had stopped to visit several years ago. The old farmer, who was watering the flowers around the barn, wore his bib overalls and a ratty straw hat. He had shared that his family settled there long ago, and he’s the last of the family.
“Hey, there. How many kids to you have this year?” I asked. He pretended to remember me.
“This may be my last year I sell the babies. Think I’ll keep ‘em. My seven mamas had fourteen babies. We had two sets of triplets and two sets of twins. Billy’s right tired.”
The Billy saunters over to put his head in the old man’s hand. He appears tired with a raggedy beard and soulful eyes. The old man explained the gestation is every five months. He doesn’t invite us to pet the goats and explains, “Look at that mama over there with her triplets. The little ones are skittish around people.”
The old man has a golden lab and a donkey to keep mean critters away, like coyotes. “I had two dogs before I got Mattie. She’s bonded with the goats right off. She’s a real treat. I had ta get rid of them two dogs as they bonded with each other and din’t pay much heed ta the goats. This here new dog is the best ever.”
I asked him if I could write about him but he declined. I’ll never know why but I think he’s exasperated by too many visitors.
When we arrived in Mineola with growling stomachs we headed to our favorite restaurant, the East Texas Burger Company around 1:00 p.m., figuring the crowd would have thinned. A constant flow of cowboys, farmers, teenagers, and tourists (a northern visitor with a wool scarf around her neck in 70 degree weather) bought hamburgers and fries in a plastic basket. The desserts, including the fried pies, look fabulous but we control ourselves, splitting the fries and order no cheese on our sandwiches. Will Power met us at the door on that day.
A sign on the wall says, “We drove 1500 miles for this.” I understand why someone would do this. Their burgers come from nearby grass-fed cows.
By the time we left the restaurant, the clouds had opened with enough water to flood the fields we pass on the way home. The roses can wait. That may have been the best hamburger ever and our last hamburger for a long time after we attend the seminar next week. Plus, we visited the baby goats. Don’t you love unexpected time to play?