Dream Takes Shape While We Whine

I drove on listening to the Gin Blossoms I found myself singing,"I drink enough of anything to make this world look new again" and south of Stephenville I turned the CD player off and focused on the drive. I was still trying to leave the metroplex behind and I was having even less success at it. I gassed again at Johnson City and kept burning up the countryside putting a little less of the lash to the tan turd enjoying the fact that this route was just a bit cooler the spending the time on interstate thirty five.

I arrived at the café. Clint stopped to greet me and offer some Gatorade which I more then gladly drank. He gave me a status report the slab and the plumbing were done. We walked over the slab and decided where to layout the kitchen grill, where to put the walk in. We decided to have the big smoker outside and have a second counter of gourmet coffee. We deemed that the south wall of the café should have the two bathrooms. We would minimize the number of outlets in the room. Clint then drew up the plans for high ceiling semi ridged. There would be no overhangs and the upper layer of cinder block would have notches cut in it for the timber. The cinder block would be elevated to form the ridge on both the north and south side of the building. The thermostat for the heat pump near dead center of the café on a post. This would be place in the café where the temperature would vary the least. I nodded in approval. He also commented that the winter paint scheme of the café would be different then the summer paint scheme and we would slowly get a thick layer of multi coats of latex paint to add as another insulator. I smiled the café would have the feeling of a cozy cave. This was what I wanted. It was late lunch so we headed into town for some food. Clint gave me a good assessment telling me that we could get the airstrip completed in a week thankfully there was nothing but rock so all we had to do was level it out enough for airplanes to use it. We had some rocks to take care of but we could stack them on the north side of the café a further wind barrier. I then dubbed him chief architect of the café and sole authority since he had proven to have in mind what I wanted. It was early evening when we got back from the huge meal of Barbecue so I decided to have Pringles and water for a late dinner. I laid out my tarp and Clint and I set a small camp fire as a way to burn some of the accumulating brush we got a good night's rest. The following week Clint told me we would be invited to a Cabin 4 initiation. Rest came easy that night.

The following morning I cooked breakfast and did the dishes while Clint told me we needed to make a run to Mc Coys for Cinderblocks and mortar mix. We would fill both vehicles full of them. The breakfast was standard faire and we decided to get a start it was eight when we left for Kerrville. We drove in Convoy to Mc Coys I leading Clint following behind we got there in an hour. Once again service was friendly. I got ten Cinder blocks in my car and Clint got twenty in his plus some mortar mix. Mc Coys would send one hundred with the mix the following day. The drive back proved to be as big of a pain as the first drive was with a full load in the car. I even had to get the gas for the generator since it was the drill and diamond cutters that would work on my runway. There was enough material for a respectable start.

I fired up the generator and started working on a big mound of boulders near the center of what was to be the runway. With the masonry bit I drilled a series of holes in the top of the rock and then with a sledge hammered them out. Clint mixed the mortar and then he called me over. I promptly shut down the generator and went over. We had a small ceremony commemorating the lying of the corner brick of the café. After three hours our work stopped and it was lunch and siesta time.

We went near Clint's old grew Bronco and hid stretched our tarp's out hung them on the door and on our sleeping bag's dozed off in the heat of the day. We slept for a good hour or two. Clint went back to the café and I the runway. I drilled eight more holes in the rock and took a swipe with the old sledgehammer and another piece of rock was gone. This cycle repeated itself eight or nine times and the little ridge grew progressively smaller. I could not help but smile. Each drill hole instant gratification for the effort I was putt-ing into it. Each collection of holes shattered with single blow from the sledgehammer in-stant obvious for the whole world to see. The work was hard yet gratifying I could see an impact for each one of my actions. The results were tangible for the eye and hand each swing rock chips evidence something was done. I hauled off the refuse portions of rock to about a yard or so from the north side of the café which by now had its first layer of cinder blocks down.

The center of the café would be 60 by 50-foot rectangle. The kitchen would be off to the southeast corner with a wood fired grill a Barbecue pit would be outside for the smoking. There would also be a couple reach-in freezers and walk in refrigerator stashed before the bathrooms, which would be stacked on the south side of the building. Clint was smiling as he directed me around his plan and frame up of a café. I imagined and smiled. The walls of the café would thick as I saw the lay of them. There would be two cinder blocks wide with a good half-inch dead space in between that would be sealed tight. Clint told me that a steel roof would be cheaper and we could tile with plywood and seal off the top and leave the roof as one big airspace. I nodded in approval.

Clint and I were both happy that the water run would be one less chore we would have to do. The sun started setting and Clint cooked a couple one pound burgers. We hung out and watched the semis roll down the highway. The following day I had to order 2500 cinder blocks (the double wall ate them) which would be enough to finish the exterior of the café. There were counters to do and three commodes to put in to keep with the potty parody law. That was simple wood frame job with plywood. An electrician would put in a few fluorescent lights and a few other outlets plus the power for the air-conditioning unit, which I hoped, would be woefully under-worked. We yapped and plan and finally decided to call it a night.

Sleep came easily that night. The sky was silver studded black velvet dome overhead and dream was slowly entering the world of reality. Denton was miles away and six days away. I pondered the notion of going to church the following day. I had no desire to be stinky and grimy at proper Southern Baptist Service.

Clint got up and we had a quick devotional before breakfast. We had Eggo waffles and I men-tioned for once paying. Clint responded just buy the groceries you are providing board for me for my work. We ate Clint decided that his Bronco would take both of us into Kerrville for the cinderblocks. I added ventilator filters and aluminum garden siding. We got out to Mc Coys right as they were opening. I wrote my check and made my order. They would send the truck a few hours later. On the way back we filled up 2 5gallon tanks of water at Louise Hays Park. We got gas for the generator at the gas station along 83. I started back to work while Clint waited for the cinder blocks and mortar mix to arrive. He only had to wait an hour. The rock ridge that I was working on eventually was gone. I had a few more boulders to go which was great because the I had worn out all but four masonry bits. Clint and I had a late lunch of cold cuts.

The rancher brought up a cut up mesquite limb over with a couple big hunks of beef. I told him as he gave us the meat,"Ok 8 cups of coffee and 4 hamburgers paid for redeem when you please." We shook hands on the deal. Our day's work done it was now a time for a siesta. I slept for awhile and just let breeze from the south roll over the top of me keeping somewhat cool.

Clint awoke and we just sat there talking in the heat. We discussed camp we discussed the scientific accuracy of the green house effect: it was legit. We discussed the culture war: where is the center and where is dialog instead damn demagoguery. We cursed Oprah, Donahue and Limbaugh: two thought two little and the other was the shock jock of the right. We laughed at NOW they were the female Klan and pondered Greenpeace and just generally complained. It was good to be close to smack dab in the middle of no where.

Clint decided that we were both hungry and the whole mesquite limb would be great for cook-ing. I took the employers right and I set the fire. It took awhile or it to support some of the bigger pieces and when they burned down Clint slid in a small wire grill over the top and put the 2 big steaks on the smoking slowly dying fire. I smiled knowing good meat was on the way. The fire was warm not hot and the cooking time would be a bit on the long side of things. We sprinkled on some garlic black pepper and onion as we flipped the steak. Both steaks were slowly cooked and we savored the smoky mesquite flavor. Clint and I both savored every bite. We burned the rest of the mesquite and settled in for the night.