Shelley Armitage | Author
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Shelley’s Blog

[caption id="attachment_840" align="alignnone" width="956"] Bob Armitage, South Place, 1929[/caption] He didn't have a jump hook.  Far from it.  And he often sliced the ball when we played golf.  Still this didn't keep my dad from joyously trying.  At 60, he learned to snow ski just because he wanted to take my friends and I skiing and to the mountains. "Seen Daddy?" (on the slope) I asked a friend.  "Nope, but I saw something that looked suspiciously like his ski outfit sticking out of a drift up there." He put up a...

Out west of Vega, on one of the private ranches, there's a slight dip in a landscape, summer arid, red soil, scrub mesquite.  You've meandered along in an almost hypnotic state, land and sky stretching interminably ahead, but your yellow note pad says it's here somewhere. The subtle incline, the modest sandstone formation. If you're alone, the stillness and space may inhabit you.  With friends, voices echo a bit, then disappear.  Either way, this seems an unlikely place for water and for the giant cisterns, likely water catchers, which...

Face it, Vega, Texas is just one big pasture, that is, the "city" (900 souls) is set in the middle of native grasslands.  Hence the name "Vega" which means "meadow" in Spanish.  The grasses are beautiful, even when fenced in.  Buffalo, side-oats grama, sacaton, blue stem. If you want to be entertained in this small town, walk the pastures. Don't believe me? Just take the other day. I was walking the three acre lot that surrounds my house, eyeing the Angus cows--and one bull--that were making their way from...