Hey, Taylor! I'm your number one... Wait, no, that's not what I mean...
A girl can dream, right?
If Nature’s first green is gold
If Nature’s first green is gold, her second is chartreuse. At least that is what I observed today on my now-customary Saturday drive. Budding trees and bushes have airbrushed the countryside with a supernatural glow, punctuated occasionally by redbuds and escaped ornamental pear.
I am determined to grow tomatoes and herbs, if nothing else, so I am paying attention to the date and temperature and forecast. Of course, the season is lurching along from one extreme to the next. One day it wants to burn you, the next it tries to drown you. Today is beautiful, if cool. Spring, Texas style.
A movie set
Taylor Sheridan, of Yellowstone fame, owns a small ranch a few miles from me and the tiny house. I have yet to determine which kelly green hills set behind black pipe fencing his land is, but I am afraid to find out. Likewise, I don’t want to know what kind of truck he drives, or even, really, what he looks like in civilian life. I don’t trust myself.
I had a bit of a rocky day on Friday—not bad, but just kind of stupid. It was the day before spring break. At first, I couldn’t get the kids to wake up; I swear, I could hear the drool pooling. My cajolings and warnings were of no use. Then, after lunch, they began to speak. This was worse.
I’ve had repeated daydream fantasies of recognizing Taylor Sheridan parking at the Walmart and jogging in. I dig pen and paper out of the glove box and quickly pen a note: “Taylor, you are my last, best hope! I can write dialogue and I am a fast learner. Please, save me!” I include my phone number and run to slip the note under his windshield wiper. I can’t bear to watch for his return—will he crumple it up? Will he look around for its author? Will he smile sardonically and fold the note in half, placing it in his shirt pocket beside the peppermints he keeps to treat the horses?
So as I took my drive, it was all I could do to keep up my speed (trust me, you don’t want to slow down suddenly on a rural highway) as I recognized signs of a movie set— “Caution: Special Event Traffic” signs; yellow parking signs with symbols and arrows at an otherwise unmarked drive; rows of trailers; wedding-style event tents. There’s been some talk of a Sheridan-produced television movie or series with Billy Bob Thornton and Demi Moore. I confess, I turned around and came back the same way. There wasn’t much to look at.
Taylor—if you’re out there, somewhere, reading this—save me from teenage miscreants’ sleep drool and Hitler jokes and the not-word words Bruh and Biotch.
#Yellowstone #TaylorSheridan #BassReeves #1883 #1923
A baby camel
Why not? It's just around the corner.