In Dallas, long ago, I (not yet fully Gadora Wilder) shared life with a man breaking into the film industry. We drove a lot back then (Texas takes pride in showy vehicles with super high mileage) and somewhere between Dallas and Ft. Worth we spotted a pair of hungry hawks perched high on a freeway post. It was a rare and regal sight, and I offered out loud that it’d be a great name for a post production company: Two Hawk Post. He and I didn’t make it, nor did the post production outfit, but occasionally sunny days in Texas offer spirit-lifting, hawk-spotting opportunities along the wide and busy freeways.
This weekend Austin’s hawks were out. The air was crisp, the skies sunny. Gadora spotted at least TEN red-shouldered, rufous tailed Hawks perched high above the Texas roads. More than one post held two birds of prey. *Gadora borrowed a pic from Adam Welz’ library, as it proves quite difficult to snap a shot of hawks along the freeway while behind the wheel.
Never once thought about bringing these birds indoors, but found some folks who have…
Today, a funny thing happened. Well, it actually started last night when I checked out The Squeeze’s new pad. Though he had a key, the electricity wasn’t on yet, so we lurked about pointing his dim, blue-lit flashlight. His new space is a blank canvas, save for the leftover space-heater, and the little pile of metal parts propped on the porch banister. Gadora fondled a piece (I have no idea what it was intended for) and placed it on the railing so it looked like a set of robot eyes. Cute! He said it would be, “The Keeper of the Porch.”
This morning, too bright and way early, Gadora set out to organize a pile of magazine’s I’d been stashing. As I flipped through an old copy of Tribeza, a lil Austin glossy, I spied an ad for Haven Gallery. Amy Flynn’s “Bashbord”Fobot (not pictured here, or anywhere other than the ad, I looked!) was recognized as featured artist.
Gadora needed more. “Bothesda, MD” (above) upcycles a tobacco tin, pool ball, lamp parts and hydraulic fittings. He was born 10.15.09. You can read more about him on her blog: Amy Flynn Designs.
Trade Days in Fredericksburg now happens once a month. When I frequented the place, those many years ago, it was nothing more than three (if memory serves me) long rickety metal barns with piles of dusty stuff inside. There were a few colorful ole’ coots who were happy to haggle, but more enjoyed the banter.
There is more traffic now. There are more barns. There are even cutesy little single-vendor barns strewn across the grounds offering shabby chic furnishings, metal tools and native plants. And nestled right between the newish red metal bath house and the Saturday afternoon country crooners was the Biergarten. 100 beers the bartender says, “just don’t count ’em,” snickers the other. They’re selling sauce at the swap meet. I am in love.
As Gadora and Paula rounded the last corner of the market, she said, “This lady has a ton of junk.” We head in her direction.
Gadora barreled West today towards Johnson City. Made a 1-day road-trip to Fredericksburg for their monthly Trade Days. As I tore down a hill with open windows and eager eyes, surrounded by mesquite trees and rolling green pastures, and as the Texas sky threatened a serious downpour Gadora slapped the stearing wheel and let out a big, “Whoo-hoo! I live HERE!!!” It was a channeled Smokey and the Bandit moment. And I’m still smiling.
Trade Days would have to wait until Gadora visited Red, an online summer discovery. When I lived in Fredericksburg more than a decade ago, during a time I refer to as my “previous life,” there was truly only Homestead, then the pinnacle of home decor.
I was in women’s fashion. But I went in to gawk. A very ABC kind of place, it offered the kind of interior gems only afforded those with healthy pockets. But its inspiration was free.
While Gadora never knew Budgie to be a Guy Noir fan, we hear “he really loves A Prairie Home Companion… he’s a variety show kind of bird.” Not surprising given how colorful his Mother is. Budgie does like his space, it’s reflective and quaint. And though he’s never flighty, he knows the sensation of soaring through Lake Wobegon, if even only through the airwaves.