Chapter 24: Drive

They say that kids thrive with structure; that they relax in the stability.  And while I think it’s good to live in a daily rhythm, I also love what happens when we break the pattern and let life carry us wherever it will.

One weekend in October we did just that.  We pushed aside our to-do list and filled up our gas tank.  We had only two goals in mind: to pick pumpkins and fill our bellies at Alamo Spring Cafe.  But on a whim, we took a detour and turned before the pumpkin patch into the LBJ Ranch.  We’ve lived in Austin for over fourteen years and have never set foot on the property.  Something about always having an itinerary, made it difficult to stop.  But not today.  Today, we were explorers of the casual variety. Like loitering teens at the mall, we would stop if something caught our eye and shuffle by if it was boring.

The first stop was the one-room school house where Johnson started school.  The kids were giddy to find the wishing well out front and the outhouse, well, out back.

Then we drove for what seemed like miles through the ranch – over cattle guards and past grazing herds.  We laughed at Duke screaming shrill and panicked as we stopped the car by one particular cow.  He demanded that we roll up the window because it was “going to get” him.  And then we stopped laughing because we realized that he was legitimately scared.  (Clearly, Eloise stole all the animal-loving genetics.)

Later, we parked the car and joined the herd of tourists milling about the retired Air Force One plane.  Then we wandered around the terminal, watching videos form LBJ’s childhood and taking pictures behind the Presidential podium.

I was struck by the idea of how many people described Johnson as “driven” and “a natural leader” even as a child.  I wondered how much of a person’s personality is predisposed and how much can be altered.  Are we are truest selves when we’re young and unfiltered? 

As we drove away from the ranch and towards our agenda, I kept rolling around the idea of self and stories.  I wonder what people will say about me, and you, when we’re gone?  What descriptions will they use?  And will it even matter?

But then we pulled into Vogel Orchard and I left the idea lingering in the car.  We had more pressing matters at hand, like hunting down the perfect pumpkin.  One with a great personality.