Family Connections
from New Mexico Missives: A Collection of Haibun
Petaluma, 2005
Page 15
The first week of December, I turn sixty-one; my daughter thirty-six. We celebrate our birthdays with a trip to Fredericksburg, Texas, settled by German immigrants in 1845. The town now restricts Main Street to “Old World” architecture, and pretends it’s still a nineteenth-century village.
German dining
schnitzel sauerkraut
oom pah pahWe browse in shops filled with hand painted ornaments, glass snowflakes, and strings of pepper lights. Buy jellies and preserves at Rustlin’ Bob’s, then enter Grasshopper and Wild Honey Collectibles. I find a carving of a Schnauzer—my favorite breed. I look at the price and place it back on the shelf. Maybe later.
jars of chowchow
in gourmet food store
my grandmother’s relishFrom the Fredericksburg Bakery comes the familiar aroma of fresh pumpernickel and peach kolaches like my mother-in-law made. We walk inside for a rest and snack. My daughter buys a star-shaped Christmas cookie, breaks it into two pieces and hands me one. A hint of hazel flashes in her brown eyes. My father’s eyes looked the same.
late afternoon
east side of street
turns gold
