We hadn't been friends long, but we knew a fellow artist when we saw one.  Roxa wanted a mural in her ranch's big kitchen, the center of family gatherings at Crow's Nest Ranch, her family's century-old ranch high in the Davis Mountains between Fort Davis and Valentine, Texas.  Lindy, freshly retired from flying wanted to paint something grand. Roxa confessed she hadn't painted in years, and she wanted not only the mural, but painting lessons. Lindy confessed she was no teacher, but expressed confidence they could do this thing together. Of course she was lying.
Lindy wondered if Roxa could really paint . Roxa wondered if Lindy could really paint.
Roxa Medley Robison, descended from one of the first ranching families in Fort Davis, wanted a chuckwagon scene. A a campfire. A dramatic sunset. Lindy liked that concept. We brainstormed.
 Roxa's daughter, Besa Martin suggested that since we amazing artists intended to paint a cowboy scene, "make the figures people we know!" Lindy, contemplating a series of giant family portraits of people she'd never met, lost another few nights' sleep.
Roxa sorted through a shoebox of amazing old photos with tiny, faded images of ancestors. Seeing this collection, Lindy took heart. As Roxa described her vision, Lindy scribbled a two minute sketch. We gestured wildly as we envisioned cattle, cowboys, a big West Texas sky.
 Secretly, Roxa wondered how Lindy meant to make a finished painting from a few scribbled lines on notebook paper. Together, we ordered paint. A lot of paint. Were we to fail, we'd fail big: The mural would span eight feet by twenty feet, an engineering feat requiring us to recruit two reluctant husbands. Both marriages survived the week it took the men to frame and hang the five Masonite panels. The men knew better than to ask too many questions of their beloved artists.
Secretly, Roxa wondered if Lindy was about to ruin her kitchen. Secretly, Lindy wondered if she was about to ruin Roxa's kitchen.

     

We laughed, we cried, we sweated, we froze as we painted over the next few months.  Sometimes, we painted daily, but weeks at a time were claimed by other activities, like Real Life. We ordered more paint. Our friendship grew as paint finally covered the entire one hundred and sixty square feet.  But that was only underpainting. The major work remained to be done. Still, it looked okay. People who previewed it seemed surprised at this.
 Roxa got bold enough to paint alone. Lindy got bold enough to paint alone. The husbands got bold enough to say things like "Are those cattle or rocks? Rocks don't have horns," or Lindy's personal favorite,  "Looks like you've set Roxa's dad on fire. Now why would you want to do a thing like that?"