The Road to Blue Bell

The Journey to Blue Bell

Starting in 1987, my business was always filled with a high-end customer base. I sought the nicest stores believing that my products were best for these customers. When I first approached Blue Bell Country Store in Brenham it was the late 1980s. I was hand-painting my T-shirts so this is what I created for them, mostly hand-painted wildflowers on white shirts, dresses, jackets, and T-shirts.

When I approach a new customer I design with only them in mind creating products that cannot be found anywhere else. This way, the customer is more likely to want what I have to offer since it is fresh and available nowhere else.

It has been thirty-five years since the first time I stepped into the Blue Bell Country store in Brenham. That first trip included our two little girls and my Mother, Betsy T. Weyel who corralled the girls during my meeting taking them on the tour of the ice cream plant. I do not think you can see the ice cream being made anymore, but on those days the tours would take you through the ice cream-making process, and at the end everyone would get an ice cream cone of your favorite flavor. Seems I never went on that tour, but have visited the store many, many times to meet with the buyers. 

Many hand-painted and silkscreened T-shirts, ornaments, and posters later I am still designing for Blue Bell Creameries, even appearing in their 100th Anniversary book where a piece of art I created for the store appeared in its pages with a lovely inscription. 

This year we designed another glass ornament for Blue Bell which is to be found in the on-site store. I recommend a trip to Brenham to see the Blue Bell Country store as well as other Brenham sights including the beautifully interesting downtown.

On the Road to Blue Bell

Long ago, my Mother, Betsy, would accompany me to all my appointments. My husband Bill would drop off our daughters at school and we would take off. On this spring day, we were going to Brenham for an appointment with Blue Bell Creameries. We always found time for a great ladies' lunch somewhere before returning home. 

That day I was driving my new red Jeep which I loved. I grew up in the car business which means cars would come and go often being removed from the parking lot and replaced with another car. This would happen to me at High School and I would have to wait for the parking lot to clear out to see what I was driving. 

As we were returning home and almost to the Seguin Exit on I-10 highway my beautiful red jeep started to act up. What could be wrong? I looked down and saw that we were out of gas. Now really, who lets this sort of thing happen, only a dummy? But then I realized that the Jeep had a smaller gas tank than the car I was used to driving and this is my excuse as to why I let it run out! Earlier that day, at Blue Bell, my Mother had sprained her ankle and taken to putting cubes of ice in her sox. This was funny in and of itself with her leg on the dashboard, sox stuffed with ice. 

This is how we were when my beautiful red Jeep was out of gas on I-10. Seeing a gas station fairly close my Mother suggested we coast. I knew this was a bad idea as it was all uphill, but her Mother's card clicked in so I complied and we ran out of gas on

I-10 on a lane on a bridge. It would not move. This was enough to do me in and rattled I locked the keys in the car. So now my car was locked on a lane on a bridge on I-10 highway just waiting for someone to not realize it was not moving and crash into it. 

 We hitch-hiked to the gas station getting picked up by a nice man, probably a serial killer, but my Mother said he was an angel. She always had a good attitude. Frankly, she was laughing at the entire situation which was sending me further over the edge. 

We got to the gas station and called my husband Bill, who was not very happy with me, and he brought the other car key. He is such a rule follower and no matter what I said he would not drive over the median to get to my car so we drove ten miles, almost to Luling until there was an overpass. I knew the car would be totaled and that someone would be lying on the pavement, but when we arrived the car was still there in one piece in a lane on a bridge on the I-10 expressway. Bill unlocked the car, the whole time I was waving at people to go around as I knew now, that not only would my beautiful red jeep be totaled, but my husband would be killed. After opening the car he had to put in the gas as cars whizzed by his rear end calling it close. I was still frantically waving at people to slow down and see the car. One brazen Cadillac almost hit Bill and he said he felt the wind so close as it barely missed him. 

We got the car started, piled in, and went home. I forever learned the lesson of looking at the gas gauge at least once in a while. Now cars talk to you and all dummies are forewarned to fill up before it is too late. 

It was an eventful day to remember. My Mother, ever laughing no matter what. Boy, how I miss that laugh and words of wisdom she shared. She Blasted Off to Heaven way too early, but everything important she left behind for me. It is not the quantity of time, but the quality of the time.






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