Despite the fact that my wife, Jacqueline, and I had been on vacation for five days with four children -- two of our own, our nine-year-old son John Henry and infant daughter Harriet, and two more, a boy of 13 we'll call Duncan and a girl of 11 we'll call Edith, belonging to our neighbor -- things had gone well. We had spent four alternately languorous and stressful days at Neal's Cabins in Concan, about an hour's drive west of San Antonio, dividing our time between wallowing in the spring-fed Rio Frio and yelling at the kids for playing with fire, climbing dangerous rocks and fighting with each other, et cetera, and we were... More >>>