A weathered cobblestone street. Then a dusty dirt road.
An imposing stone statue standing sentry through the centuries in the bustling city square. Then a towering wooden windmill once again announces the arrival of the perennial spring winds as it stands at attention in the middle of the pasture.
A pristine white tablecloth holds an elaborate array of silver trays along with fine-boned china and expensive crystal glassware. Then an impromptu tailgate picnic in the back of an old dilapidated ranch truck at the edge of a creek.
A contradiction in terms? Perhaps, but these are the threads that make up the fabric of my life. Life. A series of choices that have led me on an incredible journey from the crowded streets of Frankfurt, Germany and Vienna, Austria to this peaceful place at the end of the dirt road.
If you think about it, it's not such a huge transition ~ Europe is filled with cobblestone streets. My parents beg to differ.
I was born in Frankfurt, Germany, raised in San Antonio and finally find myself at home on a ranch at the end of a dirt road. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I love my life although my parents still think I have lost my mind. Born in Europe to two educated, cultured parents. An only child.
What will she be?
The sky's the limit. We moved to America when I was two ~ the land of opportunity.
Where will she go?
The end of a dirt road.
Married to a rancher.
Don't think that thought ever crossed their minds.
I had a wonderful childhood, but I always felt like a fish out of water. Here, at the end of the dirt road I have finally found my home.