In the old days you'd walk around the parish and visit people, now you climb into the rig and head out to the county. But I'm not complaining, it's good to drive around Hill County on a spring day, everything's green, the sun shines and all seems well with the world in its central Texan aspect.
Eureka
I passed through Eureka on the back route to Itasca, which was settled after the Civil War and was never very large; now it's smaller, being pretty much a cemetery and some grain bins. The cemetery's on ground owned by the same family since the 1870s, curiously. Then on through the rural Itascan dystopia.
Itasca
Saying that, Itasca does have Karen's and a great new Amish(?) deli, as well as the usual falling down warehouses and boarded up shops. But there's a number of towns here that aren't much more than an historical marker or cemetery; the people, businesses and industry moved on along with the use of the land itself.
Blanton
Sometimes I'll stop to explore an abandoned house that's returning to nature and I did today, in what was once Blanton. It's eerie, looking at the abandonment, but don't get lost in the thought of the thing and step on a snake, that'd be an error.
A Dwarf Surfboard?
Blanton prospered in the 1880s and '90s, boasting 150 residents, a school, two doctors, a mason, blacksmith, shopkeepers, numerous churches, a cotton gin, gristmills and a cemetery.
Sic Transit
Then the Texas and Brazos Valley Railway bypassed the town in the early 1900s and the place declined. There's little left now.
Fast
Still, it's a tranquil place to gaze out on the countryside from the tailgate with one of Karen's bean and brisket burritos but not today, no bean and brisket because of the Lenten fast. Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and after a short no burrito stopover in bucolic Blanton I drove to Whitney via 934/933, enjoying the countryside.
Only to end back at the County Seat and the Tractor Supply Company, where they're selling chicks. Scientists, who are experts, tell us that these are the descendants of mighty dinosaurs.
Unfazed by this, people buy the fluffy little birds for backyard chicken operations, so there'll be no shortage of eggs here come the Eschaton.
God bless,
LSP
