According to Wikipedia, “the method contrasts with studio painting or academic rules that might create a predetermined look,” enabling an artist to better capture the changing details of weather and light. The concept is credited to Pierre-Henri de Valenciennes, (1750–1819). 

“The invention of portable canvases and easels allowed the practice to develop,” asserts Wikipedia, “particularly in France, and in the early 1830s the Barbizon School of painting in natural light was highly influential. Amongst the most prominent features of this school were its tonal qualities, colour, loose brushwork and softness of form.”

Called the “largest movement in art history. . .  and growing” by PleinAir magazine writer Eric Rhoads, the movement has become a lifestyle for amateurs, hobbyists and professionals. 

“It involves being outdoors in beautiful places, provides some exercise and can lead to world travel.”

Rhoads’ comments are hardly news to the Plein Air Painting Group of Wimberley. Wrangled by long-time painter Jim Street, the group began during the years of the COVID-19 pandemic. 

“Most of us were studio painters. We were all itching to get out and do something so a couple of us got together and said, ‘Lets just go out and paint. We can keep our distance and do our thing.’ And it grew from that. It started with two of us and then a third person joined. We decided to find places around the local area and get out and paint one day a week.”

The benefits of outdoor painting are numerous. Because light can change in the matter of a couple of hours, artists need to capture scenes quickly, taking in the big picture rather than the details. It also provides the opportunity to socialize and experience the area with like-minded people who are engaged in a similar activity. The group’s commitment to meeting regularly helps keep each artist accountable and motivated. For some, it leads to making them more open to conversations with non-artists about their work. Because studio painting is primarily a solitary endeavor, plein air painting can improve an artist’s ability to talk about their art and personal approach.

“The appeal, to me, is capturing something quickly,” said Street. “As a studio painter I was very slow and meticulous and my work was very detailed. I can’t do that in two or three hours when I’m on location. I’ve got to paint fast. Sometimes I’ll go back and touch things up afterwards. It’s really changed the way that I paint. Even in my studio painting I don’t get mired down in details like I used to.” Working quickly is also determined by outdoor conditions. “In this climate we often start around 9 a.m. By noon, you don’t want to be out in the sun anymore.”

When asked if he’s okay with people asking him about his art while painting, Street said, “I am. Before taking up plein air painting, he said, “I never liked to do that and that’s one of the things that kept me from taking up plein air painting for a long time. When I was a studio painter, I didn't want to be interrupted but the interruptions don’t bother me now. I’ve gotten used to it and look at it as an opportunity to teach people to talk about art and to engage with them. They walk up because they’re interested.”

“In today's world, a lot of schools don’t have art programs anymore and arts are funded or encouraged. I love to see parents or grandparents show up with small kids and encourage them. If a young person comes up and asks questions, one of the guys I paint with, Tim Leibrock, oftentimes, tells the child, ‘Hey take a paint brush and put some marks on my painting for me.’ You never know what impact you’re making on a young life. That’s important.”

The group decides on painting locations through emails and texts, often based on suggestions from its members. “We’ve been invited to some wonderful locations,” said Street. People will say, ‘Hey, come and paint my ranch or I’ve got a historic building you might like.’ In time, the motivation has evolved to capture things that are disappearing before they are gone forever. We go to Dripping Springs, Buda or San Marcos but mostly we visit ranches and private property around here.”

Not only does the group include painters working in watercolor, gouache, acrylics and oil, but photographers and sketchers and artists working in pastels. Their interest varies in terms of subject matter, with some preferring to paint old architecture and others focusing on landscapes and trees.

Street has an email list of more than 80 people who have expressed interest in painting with the group. “For newcomers who say they’ve never done this before, I suggest that they come out first and watch, ask questions of us and see what works for us and figure out what works for you, because we’re all different.” 

Street’s equipment consists of a pre-packed backpack that he can pick up quickly. Over time, the painters, as a group, have refined their equipment, starting with bringing full studio setups and eventually simplifying to essentials. “When I come back from painting, I clean up my supplies, dry out my brushes, repack my backpack and stick it in the corner so that when it’s time to go again, I can just grab it,” he said.

This June, for the first time in Hays County history, four regional arts organizations are coming together to present a single plein air art exhibition spanning the entire county. The Hays County Arts Alliance — made up of Inspired Minds Art Center in Buda, the Dripping Springs Art League, the San Marcos Art League, and the Wimberley Valley Art League — will open its inaugural Plein Air Exhibition with a public reception on Saturday, June 27, from 3 to 6 p.m. at the Buda Welcome Center, 303 Main Street. 

The exhibition brings together original plein air paintings created this past Spring during a four-event series hosted across Hays County. Each member organization hosted one paint out, all centered on the theme of water: Inspired Minds Art Center at Garison Memorial Park along Onion Creek in Buda on March 7, the Wimberley Valley Art League at Blue Hole Regional Park in Wimberley, March 28, the Dripping Springs Art League at Madrone Springs Ranch, April 11, and the San Marcos Art League at the Meadow Center for Water and the Environment in San Marcos on April 25. Dozens of artists from across the Hill Country participated, painting on location at some of the region’s most treasured natural sites.

The exhibition will remain on display through August 6 at the Buda Welcome Center, with all works available for sale directly through the artists. Admission to the June 27 reception and the full exhibition is free and open to the public.

“Organizing artists across four cities around a single shared theme has been one of the most rewarding things the Wimberley Valley Art League has been part of,” said Street who is a member of the Wimberley Valley Art League. “Blue Hole is one of our most treasured places, and the paintings that came out of that day capture something real about why this county is worth celebrating. We hope everyone comes out to see the full collection on June 27.”

   We stopped in front of a building known as The Refectory, originally built for concessions by seventy-four “CCC Boys” in 1935.  Michael sat behind the wheel as I left the car and read the sign in front of the old stone building.  I loved what it said, “This building represents a nation’s hope…” 

   Scoping out the picnic area, we discovered we were in the middle of the park’s various trailheads. Michael told me to choose one. The San Marcos River Trail looked promising till I saw a sign that said WATCH FOR SNAKES. I checked my bare toes peeking out from my river sandals. Warily, I put one foot in front of the other, as we strolled along the path, inhaling the day. Traversing the 1¼ mile long trail, my impressions were many. I felt we wandered from the forest of East Texas to the Amazon Jungle to the deep south, where giant trees are dense with tendrils of wispy moss.

   Passing a black water pond, once a mud boil that has been extinct since the 1970’s, we stopped to study it and let our imaginations take flight. Perhaps some would now call it a swamp or a bog. It was beautiful in its mysterious black gloom, but I worried about what lay beneath. I envisioned the sinister slither of snakes or other swamp creatures, with massive jaws that might find I had very tasty toes. Then I remembered the legend about a swamp monster, or mud man,  specifically The Ottine Swamp Thing, described as a Bigfoot-like creature that reportedly inhabits the park's prehistoric-looking tropical wetlands. I could see it here, lurking about.

​   Amid all of the giant trees and ponds and swamps and bogs and rivers and trails are low-growing palmetto palms and inland sea oats. It is a world of green mystery, magic, and wonder – a friendly, comfortable, walkable park to be revisited again and again.

​   Palmetto State Park is tiny, barely 270 acres. There are eight easy-to-moderate hiking trails, with the longest only 1¼ miles long. This park is a kid's paradise, or at least a fantastic playground. The trails provide effortless walking and contain myriad horticultural and natural wonders. There is easy access to the San Marcos River, where you can swim, tube, and fish, as well as Oxbow Lake for swimming and fishing adjacent to a picnic area and  playground for small children.

Michael’s Picnic Menu

Whole Smoked Chicken

Baked Potato Style Potato Salad

Celery Sticks

JJ’s Bakery Fried Pies 

   When I woke the morning of our picnic, I didn’t smell coffee. I smelled bacon and heard clattering and sizzling sounds. Walking into the kitchen, I saw Michael in the throes of finishing a mayonnaise-less potato salad for today’s picnic.  Glancing at his recipe, it sounded very much like the baked potato of my dreams. He smoked a chicken yesterday, and there were celery sticks in a container and our favorite fried pies in our picnic basket. I think I like it when it is his week to plan our picnic meal.

   I have to be honest, the first time Michael brought one of JJ’s fried pies home, I turned up my nose. Boy, was I wrong. Now I serve them at backyard picnics with friends, and after tasting them, my friends rushed out to buy all they could get their hands on. Offering more than 10 flavors, they are available nationwide and in Central Texas – let Google tell you where.

Baked Potato Style Salad

Serves 6

• 2 lb. small red potatoes

• 16 slices bacon

• 2 C sour cream

• 1 packet Ranch® Seasoning Mix  

• pepper

• 6 – 8 ounces sharp Cheddar cheese

• 1 – 2 bunches green onions

NOTE: if using thick sliced bacon, use half as much.

   If needed, scrub the potatoes clean. Leaving the peel on, cut each potato into small cubes. Put cut potatoes in a large pot and add enough salted water to cover by 1-inch. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to a bare simmer. Cook uncovered for 8–15 minutes or until potatoes are tender (test with the tip of a sharp paring knife after 8 minutes). Do not overcook. Drain the potatoes in a colander and run under cold water. Spread potatoes on a paper towel-lined, rimmed baking sheet to cool completely.

   While the potatoes cool, cook and drain the bacon, then coarsely chop. Mix Ranch® Dressing with sour cream in a large bowl. Grate Cheese. Discard the root ends of the green onions and thinly slice all the onions, including the green tops. Add bacon cheese and green onions to the dressing mixture. Stir to combine. Add the cold potatoes and gently mix to combine. Taste for seasoning, adding pepper to taste. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour to allow flavors to combine. 

   A lifetime food enthusiast and cook, Charlotte Caldwell loves to entertain and enjoy fine food in the beauty of the outdoors. She has catered everything from weddings to charity events and, of course, picnics for family, friends and organizations who can’t get enough of her recipes. She is the author of “Charlotte’s Texas Hill Country Picnics,” from which these columns appear. To learn more, contact charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com with the subject line “COOKBOOK.”

     A dollhouse-sized stone structure, a magazine where ammunition was stored, stands before me. There is a window in front and several high slits on each side — “A safety precaution,” Michael says. 

     Thinking that the door is most likely on the opposite end, I begin walking around the building. Then I glance at my sandal-shod feet. I look at the ground. It is full of dried mesquite beans, dried grasses, dirt, and small craters that I believe are home to a zillion tiny ants. My hubby shakes his head. “They’re doodlebug traps — they eat ants. Didn’t you ever play with doodlebugs when you were a kid?” Well, NO!

     Returning to the other side of the road and the open-air Visitor Center, we begin reading the large storyboard. I hear a chuckle beside me.“What’s funny,” I ask.

     “Someone said in 1892 the town that sprang up around the post’s remains contained nothing but one hotel, a saloon, a general store, a blacksmith shop, and 10,000 prairie dogs.”

      I continue reading and get lost in myriad words and stories. Then I realize Michael has disappeared. Leaving the security of concrete, I step onto the dirt path and look down. The trail is littered with more giant red ants than I can count. Stepping carefully, I look up and see a sign that tells me to BEWARE OF RATTLESNAKES.

     Watching for both snakes and red ants, I scan further afield and see Michael sitting on a low rock wall amidst a grove of chimneys and prickly pear cactus. There are no children’s squeals of laughter, no loud conversations. It is only the two of us standing among the towering ruins with the whispers of old ghosts blowing through the twisted, knurled mesquite trees. He takes my hand, and we walk toward the broken remains of yesteryear. 

     In November of 1851, five companies of the US Infantry were sent to Texas with orders to establish a post. Several days into their journey, a Texas Blue Norther struck, and within mere minutes, temperatures dropped below freezing. One of the quartermaster’s wagons got separated from the column of soldiers, resulting in a teamster and twenty-seven mules and oxen freezing to death,

     When the soldiers finally arrived at the point of land where they were tasked with building a fort to give safe passage to those heading west, one young lieutenant was so impressed with his surroundings that he wrote to his wife, “We have arrived at a point known as Phantom Hill. Too much cannot be said for its beauty. The country around is alive with deer, turkey, and bear.”

     Barely a week later, he changed his tune, “When I say to you that we have a beautiful valley to look upon, I have said everything favorable that could be said of this place... Like the Dove after the Deluge, not one green sprig can we find to indicate this was ever intended by man to inhabit…  .”

     The soldiers had a fort to build, but there were no trees. They had to use oxen to haul timber from 40 miles away for officers’ quarters and a hospital. A nearby quarry provided stone for the magazine, guardhouse, commissary, and chimneys. The rest of the fort was built using vertical poles woven with brush and chinked with mud for walls. They were drafty, critter-infested structures that were a source of complaint among Army wives.

     Two years and three commanders later, the fort was abandoned. Shortly afterward, the wooden buildings burned to the ground. The last fort commander, who was there for two short weeks, was suspected of arson, court-martialed, acquitted, and court-martialed again. 

(Charlotte Caldwell loves Texas. She has explored every corner of the state and has been on more back roads and in more small Texas towns than anyone could imagine. A lover of music, live theater, cooking, entertaining, history, traveling and writing - she has written a cookbook about the art of picnicking – as well as eight additional books about her adventures.  charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com; www.charlottestexashillcountry.com)

   “A lot,” he says, “Sometimes we would camp for an entire month, and my father would commute to work.”

   I’ve heard a lot of his stories but never knew this one. I did know he spent a vast amount of time with his dog and friends, roaming the hills and gullies and inlets of Inks Lake State Park; it was part and parcel of his life as a child, a teenager, and a young man. 

   His dog was bitten by a rattlesnake and is buried here. As a teenager, he and a friend tried swimming across the lake to investigate a girl’s camp on the other side but quickly turned back when they saw too many water moccasins in their path, swimming faster than ever before. 

   The lake invites. Beckons. Lures. I can understand why many moms, dads, and kids want to spend time in this corner of Texas. Much of the shore is empty and wild, but the areas designated for camping are tiny villages built of canvas and steel. Kids fish, swim, ride scooters, and play. It's a joyful sight.

  This state park is a beautiful watery wilderness full of magic and places to discover for young and old alike. Even these days, we slip away from the dailiness of life, taking time for impromptu or well-orchestrated picnics at Inks Lake. 

   There are nine miles of trails to hike and explore, with a wildlife viewing area as a destination at the end of the Devil's Waterhole Nature Trail. You can fish from their docks, swim in the lake, bring your boat and ski, or rent a paddleboat, canoe, or kayak. The park also has life vests and paddles available for rent at the park store. Inks Lake is quite possibly one of the loveliest, least expensive places for a family to spend their summer vacation, have fun, meet friends, and commune with nature. 

  Inks Lake SP was created to provide flood control for the Colorado River, and in the 1930s, the LCRA began building dams – one of which resulted in the formation of Inks Lake. The State Parks Board acquired approximately 100 acres in the 40s. Today, there are more camping areas than picnic tables, with nearly 200 campsites and 22 cabins. Many sites are lakeside, some have easy access to the lake, and several camping loops have playgrounds.  

A Pretend Camper's Breakfast

Papa's Delicious Scrambled Eggs with Salsa

Breakfast Potatoes

Country Sausage

Fried Bread

Orange Muffins

     A camper at heart, Michael jumped at the chance to cook breakfast outdoors. This meal required a bit more hauling than just a simple picnic basket or a tote on wheels; along with the food, there was a small Coleman stove, a teapot to boil water, a French press coffee maker, and a frying pan or two. But all the hauling and all of Michael's work was worth it. Memories flooded the air, and Michael's breakfast was delicious.

   Even though it was my week to cook, the only thing I supplied was orange muffins shaped like the winged insects of summer. Ladybugs and butterflies joined us that day. 

   A riff on a Victorian Orange Peel Cake recipe I discovered decades ago, these orange muffins are among my favorite breakfast treats. They are redolent with the taste and fragrance of orange and kept moist by the addition of pureed, sweet, moist raisins. 

   One day I stumbled upon a Nordic Ware pan with muffins shaped like flying backyard insects: 2 each butterflies, dragonflies, bees, and lady bugs. I was charmed and immediately ordered one. Still available online, each indentation takes 1/3 cup batter to create a whimsical treat.

   NOTE: Do not use old raisins that have been sitting around for months, buy fresh moist raisins. Have all ingredients at room temperature and loosen your flour with a wire whisk before measuring.

Orange Muffins

Makes 15-18 muffins

• 1 large orange

• 1 C moist dark raisins 

• ½ C butter, room temperature 

• 1 C sugar 

• 2 eggs, room temperature 

• 2 C flour,  

• 1 tsp baking soda 

• ½ tsp salt

• 1 C buttermilk, room temperature

   Preheat oven to 350°F. Remove peel from the orange (no white pith) with a vegetable peeler. In a food processor, combine the orange peel and raisins and pulse until a dark paste forms. Set aside. In a stand mixer, cream sugar and butter until smooth. Add eggs and beat until fluffy. Whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Add to the sugar-butter mixture alternately with buttermilk. Mix well after each addition. Add the raisin-orange mixture to the batter and mix until combined. Using a 1/3 cup measure filled to the top, scrape batter into parchment-lined muffin wells. Bake until golden brown and firm to the touch, about 20 – 25 minutes.

A lifetime food enthusiast and cook, Charlotte Caldwell loves to entertain and enjoy fine food in the beauty of the outdoors. She has catered everything from weddings to charity events and, of course, picnics. She is the author of “Charlotte’s Texas Hill Country Picnics,” from which these columns appear. 

Jerry knew all about nitrogen narcosis and other manifestations of diving physiology. He was a dive master and underwater tour guide living his dream in San Salvador, Bahamas. He was also in between jobs, trying to make ends meet by finding and selling coral.

Black coral was the species Jerry was after and it is illegal to harvest in the Bahamas. It is rare, endangered, slow growing and difficult to obtain because of the depths at which it grows. Those attributes and its beauty contribute to the high prices it generates on the black market. Still, Jerry might never have considered illegal activity as a panacea for his financial problems if he did not know the exact location of a stand of black coral. He had seen it while guiding a group on a wall dive shortly before his employment was disrupted due to lack of business. Now he was about to act on his impulse, and harvest an illegal species.

It was a two man job. Rene owned and captained the boat. He also maintained a presence at the entrance site and provided a ride home. That is how he negotiated a larger percentage than Jerry wanted to provide, and why Jerry was still angry as he sank below the surface. 

Neutral buoyancy is relaxing, and the magnified sounds of his breathing was like a mantra. By the time Jerry began his slow descent he was in his zone. Being underwater never ceased to engulf him in a peaceful feeling. 

Jerry was slowly descending towards a point where the ocean floor met the Bahamian Rift, where the ancient earth had cracked and split. The vertical wall that stretched straight down for about a quarter of a mile was just coming into sight. It was covered with the irregular shapes of sponges and corals that was a living continuous colony of plants and animals. 

Jerry leveled out at 45 feet, where the reef made a gradual descent for another 30 feet before plunging into the abyss. He checked his gauges as he glided over the vast array of stag horn and brain corals, impressive in their habitat but too soft and impermanent for his purposes. His favorite part of any wall dive was hovering over the edge. The way the earth beneath him disappeared made his stomach flip. It was like stepping off a high rise building that was so tall you could not see the bottom.

Jerry maintained a slightly negative buoyancy so his descent was gradual. He re-checked his gauges. Oxygen pressure was not a concern. He did not plan on being underwater long enough to worry about tank pressure. His depth was 105 feet, probably within 30 feet of his destination. It all made sense, which was reassuring. When simple statistics become confusing nitrogen narcosis could be in effect. His underwater flashlight revealed all the color that the ocean water neutralized. It was amazing how much life and color existed at that depth. He shined the light at the area he thought contained the cluster of coral and it was still 25-30 feet down. The bush was larger than he remembered, and it was glowing. The closer he got to it the more it shined. In fact the wall and all the sponges and corals were illuminated. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and somehow mixed in with the sound of his breathing there were voices, faint, and indecipherable. No. Wait. It was singing, like a heavenly choir. He shined his light downward but it was unnecessary. The ocean was aglow. There could never be anything more wonderful, and his last thought was that he had never in his life been so happy.

(Jim McJunkin has been a photographer for over 50 years and has been involved in a number of art and photography shows around the country. He has work in the permanent collection at the National Vietnam Veterans Art Museum in Chicago, Illinois, and has authored several photography related books. Jim and his wife Beth have lived in Wimberley for 20 years. jim@jmcjunkin.com)

We are fortunate to live in the Wimberley Valley, as we watch neighboring towns become almost unrecognizable with expansive growth. With this privilege comes a responsibility to care for our property with the future in mind. The title of this article is borrowed from a challenge issued by the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. With less frequent lawn mowing your yard or acreage can become a habitat supporting pollinators and conserving water. Imagine this right outside your front door! The small change of encouraging a single patch of native grass or wildflowers is a great way to start.

The Wildflower Center website list five specific aims to “slow your mow and let wild things grow:”

-The average riding mower emits the same amount of pollution as 34 cars.

-Minimize mowing by adding a new native plant bed or expanding an existing one.

-Rely on native groundcover such as horseherb (calyptocarpus vialis) in place of traditional lawn grasses.

-For a play lawn try a turf grass mix of low growing native grasses.

-Start small with just a patch of unmowed lawn and see what grows.

To get started you can find many helpful ideas at the Native Plant Society of Texas website (npsot.org) or the Wildflower Center (wildflower.org).

To turn once more to Sir David, “It’s surely our responsibility to do everything within our power to create a planet that provides a home not just for us, but for all life on Earth.”

Heather and Brendan arrived with paddleboards attached to the roof of their car. It was strange to see them exit their vehicle and not be able to run toward my daughter and hug her. They had been waiting for us at the other picnic area. Heather could not decide where we should eat the lunch I packed. She loved the birds and the flowers that surrounded us, but Picnic Hill had trees and a dock, which equated to ease of launching their paddleboards. The trees and the dock won the day.  

The gentle breeze turned brisk and we walked from table to table trying to determine which was the most sheltered. Michael forgot he was dealing with two females and followed us, toting the heavy picnic basket up and down hills, till finally he stopped. He stood and waited for us to make up our minds. Brendan just shook his head.

We agreed that a sunny table at the bottom of a hill would be perfect. The park was a lovely spot for a reunion. Mother Nature surrounded us with all her gifts: water, sun, a blue sky, white cotton clouds, leafy trees, green grass and the occasional bird soaring overhead. My only thought was that we should do this more often, even when a worldwide pandemic did not require us to social distance. The food tastes better, conversations are relaxed, and there is joy in the air, even in a time of medical turmoil. We forgot about the outside world for a while until it was time to say goodbye, and we still couldn't hug.

Lake Somerville State Park is big and sprawling. The 11,000-acre lake has 85 miles of shoreline, but not all the land surrounding it is part of the 8,700-acre state park. Lake Somerville State Park is comprised of Birch Creek Unit on the north side of the lake, while Nails Creek Unit is on the southwest side. The 13-mile Lake Somerville Trailway connects the two units.

Birch Creek and Nails Creek offer access to the lake for fishing, boating, paddling and swimming. On land at either unit, you can camp, picnic, hike, ride mountain bikes, geocache and go birding.

A Mini Family Reunion Picnic

Alsatian Onion and Bacon Tart

Minted Carrot Salad

Chocolate Chip Cookies

 My picnic plan was for something pre-prepped and precooked. Simple. Tasty. I chose my favorite go-to lunch item for an entrée — a tart, accompanied by a delicious carrot salad and my favorite chocolate chip cookies for dessert. I had all the ingredients on hand, and we would only need a single fork for each of us.

The small cooler placed in the trunk, and the picnic basket on the back seat of my cute red convertible, Michael looked at me and said, "Is that all? This isn't like one of your normal picnics."

I smiled. "My new motto is less is more — at least for a while."

Minted Carrot Salad

4 Servings

​• 2 tsp Dijon mustard

• zest from 1 orange

• 1 Tbs orange juice

• 3 Tbs canola oil

• 2 tsp honey

• ½ tsp salt    

• ¼ tsp pepper

• 1 lb. carrots, peeled

• 2 Tbs chopped fresh mint  

• ½-¾ C drained mandarin orange slices

NOTE: add honey, salt, and pepper to taste, if needed.

In a small jar, combine the first seven ingredients, shaking until ingredients are blended. Grate the carrots in a food processor or hand grater as finely as possible. Set aside. NOTE: May be prepared the day before. Cover and refrigerate. Chop the mint when you are ready to combine all of the salad ingredients. NOTE: When ready to pack for the picnic, add the last 3 ingredients to the dressing. Season to taste. Place in a cold insulated picnic tote. This salad does create liquid at the bottom of your dish, so include a spoon with holes for serving.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

42 Cookies

• ½ C shortening

• ½ C sugar

• ¼ C brown sugar

• 1 egg

• 1 tsp vanilla

• 1 C flour

• ¾ tsp salt

• ½ tsp soda

• 3 oz chocolate chips

NOTE: use room temperature egg, pack the brown sugar, and whisk flour to loosen before measuring.   

Cream together the first five ingredients till light and fluffy. Stir together dry ingredients. Stir into creamed mixture. Add additional salt, peanut butter chips and nuts. Drop from a teaspoon, 2 inches apart, onto a greased cookie sheet.  Bake in a 375˚F oven for 10 to 12 minutes. Remove from the sheet pan immediately and cool on a wire rack.

A lifetime food enthusiast and cook, Charlotte Caldwell loves to entertain and enjoy fine food in the beauty of the outdoors. She has catered everything from weddings to charity events and, of course, picnics for family, friends and organizations who can’t get enough of her recipes. She is the author of “Charlotte’s Texas Hill Country Picnics,” from which these columns appear. To learn more, contact charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com with the subject line “COOKBOOK.”

With comparison to iconic artists of the Woodstokian era of folk, including Fleetwood Mac, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Loreena Mckennit and The Seekers, band combines delicate keys, soaring cello, rolling Banjo, sparkling mandolin, intricate guitar and haunting cello, to create a sound that resonates from bluegrass-inflected folk to ethereal soundscapes

With humble beginnings in regional New South Wales, Australia, the band has rapidly built international momentum. In recent years, they’ve showcased at some of the world’s leading music festivals in the world, including SXSW, Folk Alliance International, NAMM, Canadian Music Week, and Global Music Match. 

Hawk’s Shadow Estate Winery is located at: Tickets are available at: https://theheartcollectors.com/events/hawks-shadow-winery-dripping-springs-tx/

The husband of the orchard was a very old man. He tended his orchard, milked his goat, fought with his mule and took care of the little, slightly tilted church. He had just one son. His wife had died from a fall from a blue ladder. She was picking the ripe astringent, trout roe-colored persimmons. She tumbled head after heel down the little hill, becoming still just at the back corner of the little church; her old neck broken, its sweet undulating topography unchanged.

The couple's only son ran to his mother. He lay beside her and sobbed, throwing ripe persimmons against the autumn sun. They disappeared, then plopped, bursting on the split shake roof of the slightly tilted little church. The old man could not console his son. Since the day he could giggle at his own burps he would roll peaches and persimmons down the hill. He would gleefully shout after them; complimenting those that just touched the church, reprimanding those that crashed into it or rolled past. The old man told his old friends that the boy would now do nothing, not even roll peaches or persimmons after watching his mother tumble head after heel down the little hill.

Shortly after, the boy broke out all the windows of the little, slightly tilted church, stole the one brass key to the rickety oak church door, melted it down and made a tomahawk and ran howling down the main street of the village -- frightening the mayor's wife and causing the Librarian to feint. The boy left town, breaking other windows on his way.

The mayor gathered a herd of local men. He ordered them to bring hammers and pointy nails. The mayor and the men marched to the little church at the foot of the little hill with the orchard. They ran in circles around the little church, many with large stomachs, holding up their britches with one hand, shouting foul words and assaulting the brisk, autumn air with their hammers in the other. Struggling to keep their saggy britches above their plumbing, they then passed greasy brown paper sacks of pointy nails around, nailing all the windows and doors of the little, slightly tilted church shut.

The old man sat in his orchard and cried. He had no one to make the bitter persimmons into sweet bread or roll rotten fruit, tickled, down the little hill. Every morning he would walk to the little church carrying his frazzled, old broom. He would knock on the door. No one ever answered. He walked slowly back up the little hill. One day no one ever brought a broom to the little, slightly tilted church ever again….” From “The Little Slightly Tilted Church” By Franklin Cincinnatus

 (Kevin Tully is an artist, gallerist, woodworker, and writer. He has been a golf columnist and an all-around agitator. Kevin has a figment of his imagination, Franklin Cincinnatus, who dictates short stories ostensibly representing larger bodies of work. Kevin writes them down. kevin@asmithgallery.com)

It all started in 1997, when professors John Jundberg and Eddie Weitzburg, both experts in nitric oxide research, decided to inject a little melody into their method. Their landmark paper on flatulence and inflammation bore the title “Nitric Oxide and Inflammation: The Answer Is Blowin’ in the Wind.” It was cheeky. It was scientifically sound. And it was unmistakably Dylan.

What began as a knowing nod to their musical muse soon turned into a slow-simmering academic battle of wits. Some time later, two other professors at the institute — Jonas Frisen and Konstantinos Meletis — published a paper titled “Blood on the Tracks: A Simple Twist of Fate.” It examined how non-neural cells, like blood cells, could generate neurons, but more importantly, it rang a bell in the ears of Dylan-loving colleagues.

A curious librarian, piecing together the pattern, brought the new Dylan-titled paper to Jundberg and Weitzburg’s attention. Suddenly, what had been an in-joke between two scientists transformed into a full-fledged wager. The goal? Sneak as many Bob Dylan song titles into peer-reviewed research papers as possible before retirement.

The prize? A humble but prestigious free lunch at the Jöns Jacob Restaurant in Solna — the Swedish equivalent of a gentleman’s club and a Michelin star combined.

Rules were drawn, winks exchanged and alliances formed. A fifth competitor soon entered the ring: Kenneth Chien, a cardiovascular professor with a poetic streak. His entry, “Tangled Up in Blue: Molecular Cardiology in the Postmolecular Era,” earned him immediate induction into the newly formed ‘Dylan Science Society.’ The game was on.

What followed was a flurry of publications where biology met songster. Frisen fired back with “Eph Receptors Tangled Up in Two” in 2010. Jundberg and Weitzburg upped the ante with “The Biological Role of Nitrate and Nitrite: The Times They Are a-Changin’,” and then delivered “Dietary Nitrate – A Slow Train Coming.” It was Dylan as hypothesis. It was peer review with folky soul.

Over the years, the contest gained quiet notoriety. Interns whispered about it. Grad students speculated. Post-docs tried to guess the next title. In 2014, the secret was officially out. A Swedish newspaper picked up the story and soon NPR followed. Suddenly, these serious scientists found themselves with fans — not just for their work in physiology and neurology, but for their lyrical acrobatics.

“I would much rather become famous for my scientific work than for my Bob Dylan quotes,” Weitzburg told a reporter. Then, with a grin, he admitted, “But yes, I am enjoying this!”

And then? Silence. Whether due to retirement, professional discretion or perhaps an unspoken vow to never reveal the winner, the Dylan title war seemed to vanish into the annals of academic lore. No articles since have clearly claimed victory. No reports of lunch at Jöns Jacob.  

Maybe someone won. Maybe no one did. Maybe the real victory was giving science just a little more personality.  And perhaps that's how it should be. Because when it comes to five Swedish scientists, Bob Dylan, and the most melodious bet in medical academia — “Don’t think twice, it’s alright.”

(Don Minnick is a clinical psychologist and organizational consultant and the author of books linked to business and the arts. He has found a home in the creative and culture-rich Wimberley valley. He is a Board Member of Wimberley Arts.org.  djmminnick@gmail.com)

Recorded and mixed between two central Texas studios, Map Studios and J-Steph Studios in Georgetown, the album blends intimate storytelling with professional production. From the raw emotion of the title track, "Glass Doll," to the evocative imagery of "Dandelion" and "Her Hearts Pieces," the project showcases Judy Ann’s evolution as a songwriter.

Judy Ann’s love for music took root in childhood. With ukulele in hand, she has spent years gathering lyrics that carry the stories of difficult paths walked, hope rediscovered and courage found.

“Recording in the heart of Hill Country allowed me to reflect on the lyrics that I had written. Putting my words to music has been a dream come true. It is a dream that I’ve had since I was young.”

Also a kilned glass artist, Judy Ann drew inspiration, she says, “from taking shattered pieces and melding them into something whole again.” This transformative process mirrors her faith —  “God restores what life fractures, shaping beauty from brokenness.”

Map Studios is located at 201 Rambling Oaks Dr. CD and digital copies will be available at the release and the album will be available on all major digital platforms, including Amazon Music, iTunes, and Spotify, with physical CDs available at local retailers and upcoming live performances.

I have a major fear of spider bites (skip this next sentence if you get queasy easily). I am most worried about the flesh eating spiders I have read about on the internet — and the photos that accompanied them. 

One night, I woke up in pain with an egg-shaped lump on my leg. I went to the ER and mentioned when this happened. They tested for a broken bone (I think I would have known that since I probably wouldn’t have been able to walk into the ER, but whatever) and a blood clot. They never mentioned a spider bite, even though I did, and called it a contusion. The recommendation was to put ice on it. I iced it, which did no good, and watched it for weeks to make sure I still had skin on my leg. 

Thankfully, I did. But I still didn’t know what bit me or if they had hungry relatives living nearby. I took to wearing more clothes to bed than I wore during the day, just in case. I think I will check one more time to see if there is a new “What’s That Bite” pamphlet available.

     Checking into the park, we bypassed the picnic section and made our way to the campsite area that is only very occasionally open to non-campers. Choosing a sheltered table surrounded by golf course views and expansive lawns, we noticed a family of three in the middle of the green space playing croquet. We discovered they had owned the croquet set for twenty years, and this was the first time they had ever used it.  

     Our exploration of the park took us to the camping site beyond the one where we enjoyed our noon repast. There was a creek that edged part of the campground, so we left the car and explored on foot, making our way down Mother Nature's natural staircase created by a tangle of roots. I wished for my walking stick to steady my descent; however, I did make it to the water's edge without a mishap. 

     I found a smooth stone near the creek where I could sit and be and absorb my surroundings for a while, wondering out loud where the trail across the way led. An unstable, slippery log bridged the gap between here and there. I remained seated. 

     A woman and her six-year-old son traipsed down the trail, giving me the answer. The young boy was having a good time. Not daunted by the log that spanned the creek, he jumped on and slipped off. Undaunted, he continued his trek through the water, splashing as he went.

     Lockhart State Park consists of 234 acres of forests, streams, and eleven trails, all less than a mile long, rated from easy to challenging. There is also a nine-hole golf course, a recreation hall, places to fish, and a swimming pool that opens on Memorial Day Weekend for the summer months. There is a playground for children, pets are allowed if kept on a leash, and the green-fee golf course rents golf carts and pull carts. There is something for everyone at this charming oasis.

     Lockhart State Park stands today because of the Civilian Conservation Corps, founded by Franklin D. Roosevelt, established to relieve unemployment during the Great Depression. It provided national conservation work for young, unmarried men. They built parks, planted trees, built flood barriers, and maintained forest roads and trails. So, when the US suffered from the effects of another national disaster, it seemed fitting we had the CCC and FDR to thank for our bucolic reprieve. 

A Semi-Homemade Picnic:

Smoky Brisket 

Deconstructed Deviled Eggs 

Quick Aioli

Pickles

Yukon Gold Potato Salad

Ultra-Quick Home Baked Yeast Bread

Brown Sugar Meringue Squares 

Red Grapes

Deconstructed Deviled Eggs with Charlotte's Quick Aioli

Serves 2 to 3

•3 large eggs, steamed

Spice Mixture

•1½ tsp cumin seeds 

•½ tsp coriander seeds 

•1 tsp salt  

• ⅛ - ½ tsp cayenne 

Aioli

•⅓ C mayonnaise 

•1 lg garlic clove, pressed 

•2 tsp olive oil 

NOTE: All components may be prepared a day ahead of time.

     For the spice mixture: In a small skillet, dry-roast cumin seed and coriander seeds over moderate heat, shaking the skillet until fragrant. Be careful not to burn them. Using a mortar with a pestle or an electric spice grinder, finely grind the seeds, add spices to a  

     For the aioli: Combine all ingredients in a small bowl.  

     To steam eggs:  Bring 1 inch of water to a rolling boil in a large saucepan. Place eggs in a steamer basket and gently lower them into the boiling water. The water should not touch the eggs. Cover the saucepan with a lid and steam for 13 minutes. Immediately after 13 minutes have elapsed, remove the eggs from the steamer basket and lower them into a bath of ice-cold water. Cool for 15 minutes. Place the eggs and about ⅓ cup of the ice water in a plastic container with a lid, shake vigorously, and crack the eggshells. Slip shell off eggs and dry eggs with a paper towel. Cut each egg in half lengthwise.  NOTE: you can steam a dozen eggs at a time.

     To serve: Arrange the egg halves on a plate, sprinkle with the spice mixture, and place a dollop of aioli on each egg.  

Yukon Gold Potato Salad 

Serves 2 to 3 

•2 Tbs olive oil 

•¾ tsp salt  

•½ tsp pepper 

•1–2 Tbs white wine vinegar 

•2 lg, finely cut scallion, including green top 

•3 medium-size Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed clean 

•1–2  Tbs chopped parsley for garnish (optional) 

     Combine the first five ingredients in a medium-sized bowl. Set aside. 

     Place the whole potatoes in a large saucepan and cover with water by 1-inch and boil the potatoes with skin on until you can pierce them with a sharp knife, about 30 minutes. While the potatoes are hot, cut in half lengthwise and slice each half in ⅛ to ¼ inch thick pieces. Place warm potatoes in the olive oil mixture and toss to combine. Taste for seasoning. NOTE: If you don't want a rustic potato salad, peel the potatoes while hot and then continue following the directions. 

A lifetime food enthusiast and cook, Charlotte Caldwell loves to entertain and enjoy fine food in the beauty of the outdoors. She has catered everything from weddings to charity events and, of course, picnics for family, friends and organizations who can’t get enough of her recipes. She is the author of “Charlotte’s Texas Hill Country Picnics,” from which these columns appear. To learn more, contact charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com with the subject line “COOKBOOK.”

Running for office today is largely a matter of having or raising enough money to buy television time and hire a large enough staff to use social media to one’s best advantage. Well, it also helps to look good on nationally broadcast debates.

Ah, but in the good old days, standing for election to public office, at least at the local level, was much simpler. However, that doesn’t mean it was easy. Case in point is a typewritten document on the travails of the country campaign trail found last summer in San Marcos among the papers of the late Dudley Dobie, book selling cousin of Texas writer-historian-academic J. Frank Dobie. 

Whether Dudley Dobie wrote it (he did run unsuccessfully for the Hays County school board back in the 1950s) or whether it is an example of pre-internet hand-distributed, hand-typed anonymous humor isn’t known. But whatever its origin, it’s a fun artifact of times past.

“The life of a candidate,” the piece begins, “especially one who is defeated, is not exactly a ‘bed of roses’, according to the following report made by one candidate…:

It’s as much loss inventory as report:

-Lost four months and 23 days canvassing

-Lost 1439 hours sleep thinking about the election

-Lost 43 acres of corn and a whole sweet potato crop [Presumably from lack of attention on the part of the agriculturist candidate]

-Lost two front teeth and a whole lot of hair in a personal argument with…opponent

-Donated four beeves, five shoats, seven sheep, and nine goats to a county barbecue

-Gave away two pairs of suspenders, four calico dresses, $5 in cash and 13 baby rattlers [Presumably he meant “rattles,” not baby rattlesnakes]

-Kissed 126 babies

-Kindled 14 fires in kitchen stoves

-Cut 14 cords of wood, and carried 24 buckets of water

-Picked 9 bales of cotton, gathered 7 loads of corn, and pulled 476 bundles of top fodder

-Walked 4076 miles, shook hands with 9,596 citizens, told 10,101 lies; and talked enough to make [and] print 1000 volumes the size of a patent office record

-Attended 16 revival meetings, was baptized 4 different times, joined the church by confession of faith 3 times and twice some other way.

-Contributed $50 to foreign missions, made love to 9 grass widows, got dog bit 39 times

And then got defeated.

At least he didn’t have to pay for focus groups and opinion polls.

(An elected member of the Texas Institute of Letters, Mike Cox is the award-winning author of more than 40 nonfiction books. He and his wife Beverly escaped Austin for Wimberley in 2016.)

Organized by Jack Shutze Productions, Lee headlined the Thursday night show. Also appearing were Mike McCrae, who delighted with impersonations of Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, Michael Douglas, Jeff Bridges and Vince Vaughn, and Katy Felton.

This year’s theme, “Every Bird Counts – Your Observations Matter,” highlights the importance of citizen science in bird conservation and the meaningful role community members play in tracking and protecting bird populations. 

Transformed from a traditional seminar into an interactive, family-friendly festival, guests can enjoy a come-and-go morning filled with hands-on activities, Project WILD games, nature crafts, guided birding walks, refreshments and opportunities to connect with local conservation organizations. The festival is designed for all ages and encourages visitors to explore at their own pace throughout the event.

“This event reflects what makes Wimberley special,” said Director Erica Flocke. “We are a community that values nature, education, and stewardship, and this festival brings all of that together in a fun and accessible way.”

The festival also supports the City’s ongoing efforts to maintain its Bird City designation, a recognition that would not be possible without the dedication and support of the local community.

Community members will have opportunities to engage with and learn from local partners, including Hays County Parks, the Wimberley Birding Society, SWCA Environmental Consultants, and additional organizations working to protect regional habitats and wildlife. The Golden Cheek Birding and Hiking Giftshop will also be on site with items available for purchase. 

While the event is free and open to the public, attendees are encouraged to register in advance at wimberleyparksandrec.com to assist with planning and event preparation. For event and program updates, visit wimberleyparksandrec.com.

Enter Denver Moore, the product of a life of modern-day slavery during the 1940s and ‘50s on a plantation in Louisiana. After his grandmother died in a house-fire, he escaped the plantation during the 1960s and hopped a train to Dallas. Untrusting and uneducated, Denver aka ‘Suicide,’ began a life of violent crime on the streets. He feared no one. He was angry at the world and living in a dumpster in downtown Fort Worth the evening he burst into the shelter. 

It seemed unlikely that these two men would meet under normal circumstances but Hall’s wife, Deborah, was on a mission to make a difference for the homeless in their city. She persuaded Ron to join her in serving meals at the Union Gospel Mission shelter. She told him about a dream she had about a wise man who would help save the city. As the two were serving free meals that day, Deborah saw Denver in line and recognized him as the man in her dream. She was determined that the two of them would befriend him, even after his outburst. 

For months Ron tried to make friends with Denver. He finally persuaded him to join him to help other homeless people in their shared city. Denver reminded him that helping people isn’t just serving them spaghetti on a plate in a line. They began to meet other people living on the streets and to slow down long enough to really listen to their stories. Denver and Ron learned many poignant lessons from one another along the way. The story unfolds in unexpected twists and turns.  

When Deborah is diagnosed with cancer, she charges Ron with the mission of helping Denver save the city, as the man in her dream was meant to do. From this request, an extraordinary bond formed between Denver and Ron, changing them both forever. Denver became a trusted and admired part of the Hall family. 

After Deborah’s death, Denver moved onto the property with Ron and they continued their journey to save the city in her honor. Denver went on to become an artist, selling hundreds of his original paintings. He became a singer and self-taught piano player, entertaining people with his down-home blues and gospel music. People came from everywhere to hear him tell his motivational story as he raised millions of dollars for homeless causes across America. In 2006, he was named Fort Worth’s Philanthropist of the Year for his work on behalf of the Union Gospel Mission.

A true story told in two very different voices, “Same Kind of Different as Me” weaves two diverse life experiences into one common journey. A story of pain and doubt turned into laughter, tears and success. In the end, an unexpected story of love and a lasting friendship. 

(Jan Fitzhugh is a longtime leader in senior care and lobbyist for senior rights in Texas. She now spends her time in Wimberley as a leader in the art community. Always eager to connect and collaborate, she also volunteers for various nonprofit projects in Wimberley. jan.fitzhugh@outlook.com )

Born in Austin and raised in Wimberley, Jarosz took to music early. At ten years of age she began attending weekend campfire jam sessions organized by Mike Bond. Former Wimberley View editor Dalton Sweat remembers, “I remember the campfires. . . Sarah was the kid who hung out with the adults while the rest of us ran around having fun.”

In June 2009, she released her debut album, “Song Up in Her Head,” recorded while she was still in high school. One of the songs on the album, “Mansinneedof,” earned Jarosz her first Grammy nomination for Best Country Instrumental Performance. 

Since her debut album, she has been a consistent presence at the Grammy Awards for her songwriting and skills on mandolin, guitar and banjo. To date she has earned six Grammys and more than 15 nominations. 

Since 2014, Jarosz has collaborated with Sara Watkins and Aoife (pronounced “effie”) O’Donovan. Their group, “I’m with Her,” released their debut album in 2018. In 2020, the group won a Grammy, followed by three additional Grammys in 2026. 

Accompanied by acclaimed bass player and composer Jeff Picker, who became her husband in 2023, Jarosz chose songs from her 2013 “Build Me Up From Bones,” 2016 “Polaroid Lovers,” 2020 “World on the Ground” and 2024 “Undercurrent” albums. She also selected a few of her favorites to share,“Time to Move On” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and “I Wish it Would Rain,” by Nancy Griffith.

Relaxed and smiling, the pair, who make their home in Nashville, shared their superbly polished musicianship and Jarosz’s poetic prowess to an audience ready to embrace them. Between numbers, Picker charmed the crowd with well-timed bons mots that kept the house laughing and contributed to the evening’s intimate atmosphere. After singing “When the Lights Go Out” from “Polaroid Lovers,” Jarosz told listeners, “It’s so nice to play in this intimate setting and perform these songs the way they were written. We usually perform with a full band and enough sound to fill a football stadium.”

By way of introducing her song, “The Way it is Now,” Jarosz observed the degree to which the world is caught up with their phones “and the dark narrative,” she said, only to find Picker staring at his phone. His miming drew appreciative laughs from the audience as she began to sing, “This is the way it is now. Even with the darkness nippin' at my heels, the goodness is still dancin' me around.”

Opening the show was “Mike Bond and Friends,” a quartet of accomplished, long-time Wimberley musicians, with Mike Bond on mandolin and guitar, daughter Annie Bond on vocals, Mark Fowler on fiddle and Tim Wilson on mandolin. Annie Bond sang in a beautiful alto voice Roy Orbison and Joe Melson’s “Blue Bayou” made iconic by Linda Ronstadt’s 1977 cover. It was followed by “Mohair Sam,” “Don’t You Think I Feel it Too?” “Wild Rose of the Mountain” and Bond’s wonderful tongue twister, “Wayward Willoughby.”

To cap the evening, Bond joined Jarosz and Pickers on stage to perform with his famous prótegé. Their reunion was palpably joyful as they launched into several numbers, made full by Picker, Wilson and Fowler. At the end of it, Bond was heard to say on stage, “I sure love this girl. I’m a happy old man right now.”

After her performances, Jarosz told the Wimberley View, “It was a true delight to get to return home to Wimberley and perform four sold-out shows at the Playhouse. What made it extra special and full circle was having “Mike Bond and Friends” open the shows. Mike welcomed me into the Wimberley Bluegrass jam with open arms when I was barely ten years old (circa 2001) so it was especially meaningful to have him sit in with me all these years later. We played “Where the Soul of Man Never Dies” and “Buck’s Run” which were two tunes we used to regularly play at the jam. It’s a memory I’ll carry with me for years to come.”

Parents Gary and Mary Jarosz, who attended all four performances said, "It's always a joy to have Sarah and her husband, Jeff Picker, back in town to perform in the place where her musical journey began. It was extra special to have Wimberley’s own, “Mike Bond and Friends,” open all four shows for Sarah and Jeff.”

“Sarah would not be the person she has become without the loving support of this amazing community, friends, and all of her teachers, and music teacher at St. Stephen’s Episcopal School, and Wimberley High School over the years. We’d like to give a shoutout and big thank you to Denise Renter and all the good folks who dedicate themselves to Making “Stars Over Wimberley” such an amazing gift to our town.”

Following a lengthy standing ovation and double encore, Jarosz and Picker left the stage. In a word, the performance was a triumph, made richer over time, distance and circumstance, but no less complete, of beloved connections for this acclaimed hometown musician.

From their seats in the beautiful Villa at the Vineyard in Driftwood, more than 200 Derby Day guests watched as three-year-old Golden Tempo, a longshot with 23-to-1 odds, came from dead last to win the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs in Louisville. 

Yet that thrill was eclipsed by an announcement following the live auction from KWVH’s General Manager Tim Kiesling, “In a growing partnership between the station and Wimberley philanthropists Jerry and Tricia Fields, the fishbowl studios on Old Kyle Rd. will now be named after the couple. The station will now broadcast from the Jerry and Tricia Fields studios.”

During the high profile event, local race enthusiasts in traditional Kentucky Derby dress enjoyed a lavish buffet with roaming servers, traditional mint juleps, Champagne and other libations at the radio station’s major fundraiser of the year. 

Ticketholders participated in bourbon tasting and billiards, both silent and live auctions, a rousing heads or tails Blinky bracelet showdown and Race One and Two raffles prior to the final “Run for the Roses.” 

Arriving guests posed with “Bling,” a horse owned by Leslie Laws, wearing a garland of roses. Fortunately for Bling, the garland was much lighter than the authentic Churchill Downs Garland of Roses weighing in at a hefty 40 pounds.

In further serendipity and good fortune, Cade Wright won the $2,000 “Run for the Roses” drawing and promptly donated it back to KWVH. Winners of the first and second race drawings were Patricia Bradshaw and John Rodgers, respectively. 

Sponsors of the event were Ozona Bank, the Lind Family; Joe and Jen Gambino of Double J Ranch Golf Club; Bright Light Marriage and Family Therapy, Level One Staffing Solutions; Wimberley Valley Dental; Eckols State Farm Insurance; the Funk Sway Hour; Friends of the Derby; Terese and Gary Wagner; Sunny Fox Farms; Howdy Social; Attendee Management; and photographer Karen Hensley.

I must have been subconsciously planning this picnic, because tucked away in the trunk of our car was a basket waiting for an alfresco feast to happen. There were also napkins and plates, and even a loaf of cranberry Christmas bread that I added just in case we didn’t feel like walking to the restaurant for breakfast. So, I made the call, ordered the food, and we were off for a non-typical Christmas Eve lunch for two.

Opened in 1937 and located 32 miles southeast of Austin, Lost Pines State Park was created when the state acquired land from both the city of Bastrop and private owners during the final years of the Great Depression. Today, the park comprises 6,600 acres, plus an additional 1,017 acres in the Buscher section.

We drove through Lost Pines decades ago, and it looked like a wonderful spot for a family vacation. Along with outdoor recreation provided by Mother Nature, the park is home to portions of the El Camino Real de Los Tejas National Historic Trail. There are campgrounds, lakes, and trails, as well as cabins, just in case you are a tenderfoot like me. The cabins range from a simple one-bedroom stone cabin to a four-bedroom cabin. They look like they grew here; they are part of the landscape that is Texas, and I love the whole package, state, park, cabins, and pines. You will too.

In the summer of 2011, disaster struck. We were in the middle of a year-long drought, and fires were ravaging the state. The Lost Pines State Park was one of the victims of twelve months without rain, and fires raged without mercy, affecting 96 percent of the park. When the rains came four years later, they hit as a flood on Memorial Day, triggering a disastrous dam failure. That same year, this park was the victim of another fire.

Lost Pines State Park has risen from the ashes with new trees, new plants, and new life. It made my heart happy as we explored the area and saw how determined the pines were to live, and grow, and survive. As we drove, we noticed we had the park almost to ourselves, except for Santa taking a nap in a pickup truck and a few families who rented cabins for the holidays. We picnicked under a sky full of hope and joy that day. It was the only gift we needed.

A Picnic in the Pines: Buffalo Fried Cauliflower, Grilled Chicken and Avocado Sandwich,

Crispy Potato Chips, Drunken Raisin-Cranberry Bread

​Ordering a prepared picnic is not something I normally do, but the restaurant informed me that anything on the menu was available. Unfortunately, in between pick-up and consumption, the cauliflower lost its crispness. It was a puzzle to Michael why I ordered the cauliflower at all, so I explained I wanted to know how it tasted. I guess I still don’t know the answer to that question, but the sandwich was good and the potato chips crunchy.

I have been baking cranberry bread during the holidays ever since I read Cranberry Thanksgiving to my tiny children too many decades ago to count. Recently, I discovered a new way to prep the ingredients, and now I’m sold. The cranberry bread I make these days is quick and delicious. If kept tightly covered, it only gets better each day.

Drunken Raisin-Cranberry Bread

​• 1½ C raisins

• ½ C Grand Marnier

​• 1 egg

• Zest from orange

• ¾ C fresh orange juice

• 2 C flour

• 1 C sugar

• 1½ tsp baking powder

• ½ tsp salt

• ½ tsp baking soda

• 4 Tbs cold butter, cubed

• 1½ C fresh cranberries

Special Equipment

• Non-stick 8½ x 4½ loaf pan

• Pam® spray

NOTE: use room temperature eggs, always loosen flour with a wire whisk before measuring.

Place raisins in a microwave-proof bowl. Pour Grand Marnier over raisins, mashing raisins down to submerge, microwave on high for 90 seconds. Remove from microwave and let stand for at least 1 hour or until most of the liqueur has been absorbed.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray a loaf pan with Pam®. Set aside. In a small bowl whisk the egg until well combined. Whisk in orange peel, and orange juice. Set aside.

​Place flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda into the bowl of a food processor and pulse until combined. Scatter butter over the flour mixture, and pulse until the butter is cut into the flour and the mixture resembles a coarse meal with no visible lumps. Place the mixture in a large bowl. Add the egg and orange juice mixture to the flour and stir with a wooden spoon until the batter is evenly moist. Fold in the cranberries and raisin mixture. Scrape the batter into the prepared loaf pan. Bake for 1 hour and 10 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool for 5 minutes in the pan, then remove the bread and cool on a wire rack.

A lifetime food enthusiast and cook, Charlotte Caldwell loves to entertain and enjoy fine food in the beauty of the outdoors. She has catered everything from weddings to charity events and, of course, picnics for family, friends and organizations who can’t get enough of her recipes. She is the author of “Charlotte’s Texas Hill Country Picnics,” from which these columns appear. To learn more, contact charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com with the subject line “COOKBOOK.”

The first time I set foot on the grounds of the Laurel Tree and walked through its doors, I was enchanted by the warmth. The décor. The joy - and of course, there is the food, and I can’t wait. Chef Laurel Waters was trained in France and brings the farm to the table. Everything is always fresh and seasonal.

Seated at a table for two in a bistro that would be at home in the French Countryside, we are handed a Prix Fixe Menu, showing us today’s selections. Of the four courses listed, we have a choice of two entrées. I read the descriptions, and within the blink of an eye, I know what I want.

The amuse-bouche before us is a dark, intense black olive tapenade, served with freshly made, light, and crisp crostini. I want champagne, but the Laurel Tree is a BYOB establishment, and today we decided to try being alcohol free for lunch. I’m not sure we made the right decision.

Seconds after the table is cleared of our bite-sized appetizer, the soup course, lightly curried cauliflower accompanied by a tiny pumpkin muffin, arrives. There are lemon slices on the table, and Michael urges me to try a few drops in my soup. He believes a touch of lemon makes all soups better. Then he asks, “Did you find the bacon?”

“Bacon?” Looking under the rim of my bowl, filled with golden soup, I discover a strip of caramelized bacon. I taste a spoonful of the savory cauliflower soup, redolent with undercurrents of Indian spices, and take a small bite of bacon. Placing my spoon back in the bowl, I tell Michael, “Laurel Waters is brilliant!”

The combination of the silky, savory soup and the sweet, crisp bacon is the yin and yang of flavors and textures. I feel as if I have made an important discovery in food pairings - still believing champagne would be a perfect foil…something we sadly neglected to bring.

For our entrée, Michael ordered the chicken breast, and I chose the sweet potato lasagna topped with shrimp. Michael doesn’t offer me a bite of his chicken, and after tasting the lasagna, I intend to hoard what is mine. I am blown away. How can sweet potatoes, kale, spinach, and smoked mozzarella be this decadent? And the shrimp are grilled to perfection.

Laurel stops by to say hello, and the first words that spill from my lips are, “Laurel, you are brilliant. The flavor combinations that you use are inspired, and the sweet potato lasagna is as rich as Croesus! How can something with such humble ingredients be this decadently delicious!”  She smiles and says it is one of her favorite entrees.

Michael and I are both satisfied, but we know dessert is on its way - a cookie. When the “cookie” is set before us, I realize I am in for a real treat. It is a small, blonde-brownie tart studded with almonds, toffee, and cranberries, crowned with a perfect swirl of orange-flavored whipped cream and dusted with green pistachios --- it is delicious.

I want to sit and linger over my sparkling water, but Michael looks at his watch, then he looks at me. Home is over hill and dale, through the woods, along the river, and one hundred and thirty miles away. It is time to say goodbye.

Texas-born Laurel Waters earned Le Grand Diplome in Cuisine, Pastry, and Wine from Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. From there, she worked at two Michelin-starred restaurants in Provence, including Alain Ducasse’s Provencal Farmhouse. She returned to Texas, building her restaurant on her parents' ranch in Utopia, Texas - The Laurel Tree Restaurant - a legit culinary treasure - definitely worth the hunt.  

(Charlotte Caldwell loves Texas. She has explored every corner of the state and has been on more back roads and in more small Texas towns than anyone could imagine. A lover of music, live theater, cooking, entertaining, history, traveling and writing - she has written a cookbook about the art of picnicking – as well as eight additional books about her adventures. (charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com; www.charlottestexashillcountry.com)

Spring Garden Faire on May 9th from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. The Wimberley Garden

Club usually has an annual Garden Tour in the spring, but this year they are

having their first Spring Garden Faire. This year it will take place at Songland

Farm.

The Faire will feature Exhibits, Garden Advice Stations (including rainwater

collection, vermiculture, wildflowers, vegetables, native plants), a plant sale, art,

music and vendors for food purchase.

The tickets are $20 dollars each and available at wimberleygardenclub.org.

Directions to the Songland Farm will be provided with ticket purchase.

Carpooling is encouraged due to limited parking space.

The recent rains have really helped our plants and wildlife. The Agarita bushes

are loaded with red berries but they won’t last long as the birds love them. Many

people do not like this native plant because the leaves are prickly. I remember

the first time I was introduced to Agarita while training to be a docent at the

Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center. I was told that Agarita was also referred to

as a “nursery plant.” The prickly leaves protected other plants beneath it from

being consumed.

A native tree that has responded to the rains is the bright yellow blooming Palo

Verde tree. It has thorns too which protect it and other plants growing beneath it.

I first became familiar with it in Tucson as it survives desert conditions with its

needle thin leaves.

I hope to see you at the Garden Faire. There will be a Keep Wimberley Beautiful

table where you can learn about their many projects and how to participate. I will

have currently blooming wildflower samples so that you can learn their names. I

am also responsible for answering questions about the orchids you can buy at

the grocery store – Phalaenopsis orchids.

About four miles east of present-day Austin the men stopped to rest and water their horses at Walnut Creek. They were attacked by a large contingent of Indians and one of the settlers was killed in the first minutes of battle.  Wilbarger had both legs pierced by arrows and a flesh wound in his hip. Another would-be settler was mortally wounded as they struggled towards their horses. Two of the men reached their horses and looked back to see Josiah Wilbarger take a rifle ball in the back of the neck that exited his chin. 

The two survivors spurred their mounts out of rifle range and looked back to see their companions being stripped and scalped. It was the first massacre by the hands of Indians in what is now called Travis County, and the beginning of a bloody era.

Wilbarger was momentarily paralyzed, but conscious when the Comanche scalped him. He was such a bloody mess that the Indian took him for dead, and did not bother to slit his throat.  He later said he felt no pain as his scalp was ripped away, but the sound was like distant thunder.

He regained consciousness during the night and clawed his way to the creek to drink, then began to drag himself towards home. Exhausted, Josiah leaned against a scrawny post oak and wavered in and out of consciousness throughout the night. He saw an apparition of his sister standing before him, telling him to be strong, friends were coming to his rescue. Josiah had no way of knowing that his sister had died the day before, in Missouri.

The two survivors of the attack made their way to the homestead of Reuben Hornsby, Wilbarger’s closest neighbor, and related the events of the massacre. They declared the other members of their party to be dead, and it was decided a group of men would recover the bodies the next day. That night Mrs. Hornsby had a dream in which she saw Wilbarger scalped and bleeding, but alive. She woke her husband and told him of the dream and he told her to go back to sleep. Dreams were only dreams. She persisted to the point that the men left early and found Josiah alive under the tree. They carried him back, dressed his wounds and nursed him back to a semi-healthy condition. Skin never grew back over the top of his head and the bone of his exposed skull began to exfoliate, eventually exposing the brain. That made it necessary to continuously wear a head cover which served its purpose until the day he bumped his head on the beam of a low doorway to his gin cellar. Josiah Wilbarger lived 11 years after being scalped. Almost two hundred years after his death, he still lives as a footnote in Texas history.

(Jim McJunkin has been a photographer for over 50 years and has been involved in a number of art and photography shows around the country. He has work in the permanent collection at the National Vietnam Veterans Art Museum in Chicago, Illinois, and has authored several photography related books. Jim and his wife Beth have lived in Wimberley for 20 years. jim@jmcjunkin.com )

My name is Charlotte and I love Texas. I also love picnics — elegant, elaborate, simple or purchased. Walk with me and share my adventures in nature’s arms, learning about some of our wonderful state parks and how to create your own perfect picnic.

Guadalupe River State Park, 3350 Park Rd 31, Spring Branch, TX 

Including parks, historic sites, and natural areas, there are currently more than 90 State Parks in Texas, comprising over 630,000 acres. From Big Bend State Park’s 300,000 acres of raw wild terrain to Old Tunnel State Park’s 16.1 acres, there is every reason to pack a picnic basket and explore Texas any day of any month.

Situated east of Boerne and west of Wimberley, Guadalupe River State Park is a lovely oasis of green trees, blue sky, and ancient stone. The park is 1,938 acres of trees, cliffs and trails, with the river running through and along its northern edge. Acquired by the state in 1973-74 from private owners, it was opened to the public in 1983.

All of the Texas state parks are beautiful and unique, but there seems to be a common denominator for each one of them in the Texas Hill Country — a body of water in some form is always at its heart. On the privately owned north banks, sheer cliffs drop to the water; along the southern banks, where park visitors can access the river, there are switchback trails that make for an easy descent.

Picnic tables dot the hillside along the trails and above the water, and even though the park has over 11 miles of trails, it is the river that draws visitors. Kids and adults alike flock to it like a magnet. Guadalupe River State Park has been the site of many picnics for us in past years, especially during the summer months when tiny grandchildren appeared on our doorstep. 

During the early spring of 2020, the U.S. and every other country in the world shut down, closed their doors, and locked them down tightly to slow the spread of the highly contagious COVID-19. Isolation was the only weapon available.

At the end of April, everything was still in lockdown, but thankfully, the Texas governor realized that people needed to breathe and get out in the fresh air. He opened the state parks to limited attendance with masks and reservations required.

As soon as I heard this, I told my husband we were going on a picnic. However, my cupboard was bare, well, almost bare. I had flour, butter, eggs, and bacon. I found a hunk of Gruyère, safely shrink-wrapped from a local box store, stuck in the back of the cheese drawer. I knew there was only one thing to fix, and it had been years since I last made it.  

We found a table with a view of the water at the top edge of the picnic area, well away from others. The day was so glorious, and it was so wonderful to feel almost normal, that instead of having a single slice each of this European ham-and-cheese sandwich, we ate the whole thing. We nibbled and nibbled and nibbled until it was gone. The pickled grilled asparagus was the perfect foil. After that indulgent feast, we definitely needed to take a walk on one of those trails by the river. The day was so special, the adventure so welcome, that we made a pact to explore every park we could easily drive to each week, for as long as the weather cooperated.

“The Simplest Picnic Ever”

Lunchtime Giant Gougère

Pickled Grilled Asparagus

Olives

Lunchtime Giant Gougère

6 servings

10-ounces thick-sliced bacon

1 cup milk

8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter

1 teaspoon Diamond Crystal® Kosher Salt

Freshly ground black pepper  to taste

1 cup all-purpose flour, loosened with a wire whisk before measuring  

4 large eggs, at room temperature

6 - 8 ounces Gruyère cheese, coarsely grated

Preheat the oven to 400°F, and line a sheet pan with parchment paper.

For bacon: Slice each strip in half lengthwise, then cut the strips into small squares. Fry at low heat until bacon has rendered all of its fat, then drain well on paper towels. Set aside.

For the gougère: In a large saucepan, over medium heat, combine milk, butter, salt, and pepper, and bring to a boil. As soon as the mixture boils, remove it from the heat and add the

flour all at once. With a sturdy wooden spoon, off the heat, stir briskly until the liquid absorbs the flour and forms a cohesive lump.

Place the saucepan’s contents in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment and run it for a minute or two to help release the heat from the flour mixture. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the cheese and drained bacon, beating until incorporated.  

Drop the dough by large spoonfuls onto the prepared baking sheet to form a large oval ring, about 12 to 14 mounds. Place in the 400°F oven and, after baking for 10 minutes, reduce the oven temperature to 350°F and bake until golden brown, about 25 to 30 minutes.

A lifetime food enthusiast and cook, Charlotte Caldwell loves to entertain and enjoy fine food in the beauty of the outdoors. She has catered everything from weddings to charity events and, of course, picnics for family, friends and organizations who can’t get enough of her recipes. She is the author of “Charlotte’s Texas Hill Country Picnics,” from which these columns appear. To learn more, contact charlotte.caldwell@yahoo.com with the subject line “COOKBOOK.”

The Wimberley Players will present Paul Slade Smith’s clever and fast-moving political comedy, April 24 through May 17 at the Wimberley Playhouse. 
For audiences ready for a break from the real-world news cycle, “The Outsider” offers an evening of sharp comedy, strong performances and the simple pleasure of watching a terrific ensemble bring a very funny story to life. 
Directed by Whitney Marlett, the play centers on Ned Newley, a reluctant and deeply awkward politician who unexpectedly finds himself rising in the polls — largely because he lacks the ability to spin, posture or convincingly lie. As his accidental authenticity begins to resonate with voters, his campaign team, the press corps and the political establishment scramble to decide whether his honesty is a liability or the secret to his success.
Blending rapid-fire comedy with surprising warmth, “The Outsider” offers a timely but good-natured satire of modern politics that focuses less on partisanship and more on the universal absurdities of public life.
Director Whitney Marlett says the show’s appeal comes from both its humor and its humanity.
“At its heart, this play is about what happens when someone who never expected to be in the spotlight suddenly finds themselves there,” Marlett said. “It’s incredibly funny, but it also has a lot of heart. Audiences will recognize these characters — not just from politics, but from everyday life.”
The production features Joanna Gunaraj as Paige Caldwell, Samuel Ellisor as Dave Riley, Reji Smith as Louise Peakes, Greg Dew as Ned Newley, Robert Moritz as Arthur Vance, Allie Lawrence as Rachel Parsons and Carter Holland as A.C. Peterson.
Performances are Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and Sundays at 2:30 p.m. Tickets are $30 for adults and $20 for students.
Tickets may be purchased online at wimberleyplayers.org or by calling the box office at 512-847-0575. The theatre is located at 450 Old Kyle Rd.
The Outsider is presented by special arrangement with Playscripts, Inc.
 

I’ve heard many baby boomers claim their mother invented the dish out of necessity to feed incessantly hungry kids back in the 1950s. I’ve heard claims that their grandmothers had been making something like Frito pie since the ’20s, which would have been a neat trick since Fritos weren’t invented until 1932.

A version of Frito pie was served at a gathering of the Dallas Dietetic Association in 1949. The recipe came from the Frito Co. itself and originally called for putting a layer of Fritos in a casserole dish, covering it with chili and then covering everything with liberal amounts of cheese and onions. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

You can see how this got MacGyvered into just pouring chili into bags of Fritos for efficiency and transportability. Today, you’ll also find it with the added ingredient of a mound of jalapeños on top.

Whatever the case, Fritos and the pies are Texas originals.

Charles Doolin of San Antonio created the chips, putting his own spin on a recipe he bought for $100 from a Mexican restaurant in 1932. He fried strips of corn dough, and Fritos were born. It’s interesting that most Texans now associate the chip with piles of meat, as Doolin was a vegetarian.  He called them fritos, Spanish for “fried.” Doolin also invented Cheetos, around 1948, by the way.

In the 1960s, my mother made something she called “creamed tacos,” which was a cheesy chili con carne poured over a plate of Fritos. Exceptionally filling, the recipe no doubt came from Frito-Lay itself. Though the company, now based in Plano, had its own brand of chili by then, my mother, like Hank Hill, preferred Wolf Brand Chili (“Neighbor, how long has it been?”), another Texas original.

This type of mixing and matching was encouraged in the early days of Fritos - as they were not marketed as a stand-alone snack. They were sold as an ingredient for casseroles. The inventor’s wife, Mary Kathryn “Kitty” Doolin, even experimented with pouring chocolate over Fritos and baking them on a cookie sheet.

Kitty also is credited with coming up with the original chili pie recipe. We know this because her daughter, Kaleta Doolin, wrote the most thorough history on the subject you can find, her 2011 book Fritos Pie: Stories, Recipes, and More. It’s an incredibly detailed history that provides all manner of Fritos recipes you have never imagined. Maybe there’s another classic in there, waiting to be popularized in today’s world of spicy snack foods.

Along with her mother, Kaleta gives credit to another woman for popularizing the dish. She writes with admiration that Teresa Hernandez sold thousands of Fritos Chili Pies at the Woolworth’s counter in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in the 1960s, reportedly selling 56,000 bags in one year.

And at the same time, it was all the rage in San Antonio and across Texas at football games as fundraisers for civic and student groups. Who knows how many kids were sent to college on profits from Frito Pies.

(W. F. Strong broadcasts ‘Stories from Texas’ and other commentaries bi-weekly on Texas Standard´s NPR network out of Austin. He is a Professor of Communication and Culture at The University of Texas Rio Grande Valley.  drwfstrong@gmail.com )
 

In a small community, the impact of collective action can be especially powerful. Simple efforts, when multiplied across neighbors, can create meaningful change. You can organize a local clean-up day for your local neighborhood or join one of the Adopt-A-Highway teams, helping keep natural spaces beautiful and safe.

Reducing waste is another practical step. Households can commit to recycling more, composting food scraps, and cutting back on single-use plastics. Supporting local farmers and businesses also reduces the environmental cost of transportation while boosting the local economy.

Education plays a key role as well. Attend a local event or a workshop at the library and learn more on conservation, water usage, and sustainable living. Even small habits—like turning off unused lights, conserving water, or using reusable bags—add up over time.

Earth Day stands for awareness, responsibility, and action. It reminds us that protecting the environment is not just a global effort but a local one. By working together, small communities can lead by example, proving that even modest changes can have a lasting impact on the health of our planet.  To learn more about KWB activities, visit our website: www.keepwimberleybeautiful.org.