Home

Ricky and I moved to Oatmeal Creek 15 months ago.  Hondo and Honey Bee joined us on our adventure here.  In our time here on the creek bank, this beautiful place has graced our lives in numerous ways.  Hondo would rather be in the cold, clear, spring fed water of Oatmeal Creek than anywhere on earth.  He has gladly made this his home.  Home, a special word that brings to mind thoughts of comfort, safety, memories, warmth, family, mother, and love.  Home is where we long to be, the place we spend our lives hunting for or returning to find the same or changed, or maybe gone.
Oatmeal Creek is my home with Ricky, Hondo, and Honey Bee.  We are making memories here with our children, our grandchildren, our pets, and all the wonderfulness of nature that lives here. This was home to another family before it became our home...I continue to be grateful for them and the nurture they gave this place.
San Angelo still seems like home in many ways;  so many poignant memories there, family, friends, a wedding, and a career completed.  My baby girl, my sister, my brother, my house that used to be our home.  The big red oak tree in the front yard that greets me on every return.  I can't get the years back, things change, people leave, never to return. I love home on Oatmeal Creek.  I cherish home in San Angelo.  It's ok to be lucky enough to have two homes.  My past is there, my current and future is here.  Sometimes I am caught in between.  Like Hondo, the pure water of Oatmeal Creek washes over me and flows on down stream to the South San Gabriel and out to sea, like time washing over my soul, sweeping my memories out to eternity, painting the water color of my life. "There is no place like home."