Granbury

The weather in October in Central Texas is beautiful. Summer’s furnace has finally burnt itself out, and it’s pleasantly warm throughout the day. The hotel is crowded because of the “Red  River Shootout” – the annual football game at the Cotton Bowl between two great rivals, the Sooners from Oklahoma University, and the Longhorns, from the University of Texas. So it was a good day to get out of Dallas.

The square in Granbury - the Nutt brothers were founders of the city

National Public Radio (NPR) is somewhat like BBC Radio 4. Intellectual content, lots of topical news, no commercials. But three times a year they have a “pledge drive” to raise money to keep the station running. Each pledge drive occupies probably a third of the air time for several weeks – we don’t know how lucky we are with the BBC. I think commercials would almost be preferable – at least they’re created by professionals, so you don’t have to listen to interminable repetitions of the number to call, and the amazing gifts they’ll give you in return for donations. I really need another coffee mug ... There’s a pledge drive going on right now for KERA, the local radio station, so I drove in blessed silence, with the windows down, hearing the sounds, smelling the smells, of the rural areas I passed through.

This is what you get for shouting at the sheriff

I thought I’d already been everywhere worth going to within easy reach, but today I went to Granbury, which I’ve passed by many times. I followed the signs to the “historic downtown district”, which is usually a town square left dilapidated and derelict after the arrival of Walmart and their cohorts. Not this time. Granbury is revitalized and vibrant. I had lunch in the patio area of one of the restaurants on the square – green leaf salad, with tomato, avocado, pine nuts, black olives and spring onions, sprinkled with parmesan cheese – with the warm sunlight filtering through the live oak trees. I’m always impressed that, even if you order a beer (as I did – a Shiner Bock), they still bring you a tall glass of iced water.

Apart from the Opera House, the gift shops, the coffee houses and cafes, the antique stores and the General Store, they have a museum. This was at one time lived in by the Sherriff, with the jailhouse upstairs. It was there that I learned that Jesse James was buried in the local cemetery – his “death” in 1882 was supposedly staged so that he could live out the rest of his life incognito. There are many such stories surrounding the colourful characters of the Old West – Billy the Kid is also reputedly buried locally, again after a mis-reported death. It wouldn’t be at all surprising if some of them were true, although, according to this legend, Jesse James would have been 103 when he died.

Fried pie

Jesse James' grave

On the way back through Weatherford, I stopped at Baker’s Ribs to get a “fried pie” – an Oklahoma delicacy. Yes, it’s exactly what it looks like – deep-fried, fruit-filled pastry.

It’s a wonder I’m still alive, the stuff I eat …