Back in 1963 or 1964 my dad was working for an old highway contractor in Austin. Holland Page, as a young man had started building Texas roads and highways when they were moving dirt with fresno’s and teams of mules.

Mr. Page and Cecil Lewis developed a real liking for each other. We would go in with our dad to the office on Saturdays. We would prowl around the shop and yard area, which was about 4 blocks north of US 183 on North Lamar in Austin. Mr. Page would caution us about watching for rattlesnakes out in that jungle of long ago retired construction equipment and scape metal.

Cec came home one day with the news that we were moving to British Honduras. Mr. Page had landed a contract there, in Central America. British Honduras is the area that we now know as Belize. We were told about the shots we would need before we could go. That was probably the only thing that didn’t appeal to me. Otherwise, as a family we were all very excited.

Time dragged along awhile as we talked of the move. Finally Cec came in one day and told us that we wouldn’t be moving. There had been a regime change in the government and the “deal was off”. I’m very doubt that Cecil Lewis explained all about regime changes and such. I have since looked up the history of that Country to ascertain what the hell happened.

Within a couple of years we made our move back to Marble Falls, starting school there in September of 1965.

Perhaps if that change of plans hadn’t taken place I’d be writing the Papaya Chronicles instead of the Angora Chronicles.

I’m not one bit disappointed with the end result. I like my life.