tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38943418491068466442024-03-13T15:32:27.084-07:00Turquoise Sky: The Writings of Jerry B. Moseley"I want to look up at the turquoise blue sky and see the Sandias turn red and blue with
the sun reflected off them..." Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-46276096826044035242015-04-18T17:24:00.000-07:002015-04-18T17:24:55.376-07:00Fate is as gentle with men...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoC3pFZtk147Gc410SHa_d71L4vHZyWY6c81IhqhBpxYsFXVXZ63_zZ51A8voaPMoKXImMIr85tqetKjuUlej1q4uMfWClpi9ZxGF385fLNzLctvm2SM8Iw7RhBqIvxlITb09yfXSn0A/s1600/workers.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoC3pFZtk147Gc410SHa_d71L4vHZyWY6c81IhqhBpxYsFXVXZ63_zZ51A8voaPMoKXImMIr85tqetKjuUlej1q4uMfWClpi9ZxGF385fLNzLctvm2SM8Iw7RhBqIvxlITb09yfXSn0A/s1600/workers.jpeg" height="282" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://coloradorestlessnative.blogspot.com/2011_06_01_archive.html">Photo source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Down by the water tower on the Navajo River there was once a<br />
small settlement.....Nothing much, half a dozen rectangular wooden<br />
buildings none of them measuring more than 12'x12'....The men<br />
worked keeping the track free of rocks and making sure the tower<br />
was filled with water.<br />
<br />
A steam locomotive needs a tank full of fresh water in its tender<br />
to make steam....If there is no water, the train can't move. There<br />
were women and children here as well....I used a big magnet to<br />
probe the drinking water well that was near the town. Fragments<br />
of toys, metal hooks from ladies underwear fasteners, even an<br />
occasional heel from a shoe.....The metal nails that allowed it<br />
to be fastened to the shoes attracted the magnet.<br />
<br />
All this attested to a family environment, but there wasn't enough<br />
to date the relics....I had to find something with a date on it Here<br />
the power of an educated guess came into play. Perhaps the ladies sold food or beverages to the passengers. After all, railroads did not pay track crews much, and a couple of cookies<br />
sold to a passenger might bring as much as the lady's husband<br />
made in an hour. Multiply that by half a dozen sales and the family income could be improved.. Did it happen? Well there was one way to find out......I borrowed a metal detector from the<br />
school's science lab. Then allowing for the fact that the locomotive had to be under the water tower, and the cars were<br />
about 30 feet long, where would that place the passenger cars?<br />
<br />
I was right! I found, after a while pennies (I presumed these would be the most common) and a couple of dimes. these ranged in date from 1896 to 1910......There were half a dozen coins in all. These were all "in the Ballpark" datewise. These<br />
weren't dropped later on after the town had been abandoned.<br />
Okay, so it isn't "Iron Clad Proof", but it beats an educated guess<br />
by just a bit.<br />
<br />
I knew, from my research, that the tracks were lain in September<br />
of 1880, and the town was called "Navajo Tanks" and that it was<br />
abandoned in May of 1927......The tracks were pulled up in June<br />
of 1956. That was my time Frame.......A coin minted after 1956<br />
would not fit these parameters.<br />
<br />
Having exhausted my search for coins at the passenger site,<br />
I started sweeping the area around the water tank with the detector.<br />
<br />
I found two coins with square holes in the middle....Chinese?<br />
It took a trip to the library in Albuquerque to find out for certain.<br />
They were Chinese! Minted in Yunan Province in 1742 and 1756.<br />
Before the American Revolution.<br />
<br />
Back came the old guessing cap! What kind of men came from<br />
China in 1880? ......Guess: Track Laying Crews....They would be<br />
from poor families, and the early coins would have been handed down from generation to generation.......The young man would have been given every coin the family had for his trip to America.<br />
<br />
The coins are called "Cash" (that's the origin for our word cash.)<br />
they would be carried on a cord strung through the square hole. They, of course, would have no value in America, but likely the<br />
Chinese workers used them when dealing with other chinese.<br />
<br />
It made sense....Every now and again the cord would break, or<br />
coins would be lost........These two parted company wih their<br />
owners back in September of 1880. Surmise? Speculation? Well,<br />
Yea, I guess so, but just as I can not prove the theory, neither<br />
can anyone disprove it.<br />
<br />
As a parting thought, I wondered then, and still do, whether these<br />
poor people from Yunan province in South China ever saw their<br />
home again.....I wonder what happened to them.....I doubt anyone<br />
will ever know.<br />
<br />
That brings up the title for this story, A genuine old Chinese<br />
proverb. "Fate is as gentle with men, as a mongoose is with a<br />
cobra." Perhaps, all the poor Chinese laborers found was a grave<br />
in some far off American frontier town......Not many would have<br />
been fortunate enough to be able to pay for a trip home to the land of his birth.......And how many mothers wept for the son they<br />
would never see again?Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-49436656342598677802015-04-16T19:57:00.001-07:002015-04-16T19:57:32.581-07:00Stepping out of times past...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk43DNluq0TzvNp84YEw8hdAtqTxKrD1IMr4DU8C22NBVEZnxtmnzHeWH_HS2Ea4Q0pNIx-trny6146xSsoiGz0bu9-mMnCYqF741QAB-ErX9FMKPM3MtXcKfPcHGsQyJTfWIjJp-oSgc/s1600/reenactors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk43DNluq0TzvNp84YEw8hdAtqTxKrD1IMr4DU8C22NBVEZnxtmnzHeWH_HS2Ea4Q0pNIx-trny6146xSsoiGz0bu9-mMnCYqF741QAB-ErX9FMKPM3MtXcKfPcHGsQyJTfWIjJp-oSgc/s1600/reenactors.jpg" height="247" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Civil War Reenactors<br /><a href="http://www.inlander.com/Bloglander/archives/2011/06/03/wanderlust-civil-war-re-enactors-in-riverside-state-park">Photo sourc</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
There, along the banks of the Navajo River on the<br />
Jicarilla Apache Reservation, down by the old railroad<br />
R.O.W. (That's Right Of Way).....I cut a striking figure.<br />
I was wearing grey trousers with a yellow stripe on each<br />
leg, Mid-calf length black military boots, and a pistol<br />
belt with a full flap holster, cap box, and cartridge<br />
box...In my full flap holster was a Model 1851 Navy Colt.<br />
(replica, of course) I had on a butternut colored bib<br />
front western shirt and my Kepi on my head....<br />
<br />
In short, based on the theory that the Confederate Uniform was almost anything but uniform. I cut a pretty<br />
good image of a Rebel Soldier of 1862.....<br />
<br />
Oh you could find flaws with its authenticity, but, there, miles and miles from any critic, it would pass<br />
muster.....<br />
<br />
I left my spurs at home....They tear up a car's upholstery, and my saber....Too danged tough to drive<br />
a car while wearing it.<br />
<br />
Now, why would a normal, late 20th Century male be<br />
dressed up in such an outlandish outfit? Boredom!<br />
Pure and simple......<br />
<br />
Mary tolerated such nonsense....We had a kinda unspoken<br />
agreement...I tolerated her trips to visit her relatives in Castlerock, and her trips with Brenda, and she tolerated my preference for my grandparent's war over my<br />
own war in far off Asia. Maybe it was even a healing<br />
experience, who knows?<br />
<br />
In a little while, I saw the dust thrown up by an automobile. A car was coming.....9 chances out of 10<br />
it was Tony Pena taking the short-cut to Pagosa Springs, or maybe it was Mike Duran going in the same<br />
direction. We were all part of the Teacher's Colony<br />
called the "Teacherage" up in Dulce.....<br />
<br />
Nope, I could see glimpses of it....It was a Pontiac<br />
sedan, blue colored, and pretty recent in vintage.<br />
<br />
Well, Dog My Cats, if it weren't a passle of bluebellies. Genuine Yankees, from a place called Ohio.<br />
<br />
I waved at them, and they slowed down, then, upon closer<br />
examination of my uniform they stopped and fumbled for<br />
what I presume was a camera......<br />
<br />
They were typical yankees. Middle aged, the woman was<br />
homely and she acted as if one smile would make her face<br />
fall off. The man, her husband, I guessed was short, a<br />
little too liberal with the vittles, and bald headed.<br />
<br />
"Hi-die Folks," I chirped in my best Texas accent, "You<br />
folks ain't seen a sorrel horse hereabouts, has Ye?"<br />
<br />
The man shook his head but said nothing....His traveling<br />
companion stared straight ahead....as silent as he was.<br />
<br />
The man stammered, "You in some kind of movie they're<br />
making, or something like that?" I painted a dumbfound<br />
expression on my face and replied, "A Whut?" then, "Naw-suh, Ah jes got some Dispatches fer Captun McLaws frum<br />
Genrul Sibley, an ma horse run off. a rattler spooked him."<br />
The fellow was obviously flustered and was measuring his words carefully before he spoke....So, I took the lead,<br />
"Y'al best be kerful, our boys has a battery up on them<br />
hills a mile er so up th road, an yer thingamabob thar<br />
you is drivin being blue, Y' might draw some fire."<br />
<br />
The car window went up, and there was a hail of small gravel as Mister Ohio an his prune faced wife "Plum Skedadled" right up the road.<br />
<br />
The whole episode proved a point...Remove people from<br />
the environment they are used to, expose them to illogical scenerio's and they panic. In half an hour<br />
or so, Mister Ohio would be telling this whole bizarre<br />
experience to the first highway patrolman he met...Why,<br />
he might even get his Yankee behind locked up for psychiatric evaluation......<br />
<br />
In any case, it was time to get in some target shooting<br />
with my Colt Navy an get on back home.....After all,they just might call out the SWAT team. My MG was a hundred<br />
yards or so up the branch of the road that paralled the<br />
river....Nestled in a grove of fir trees. Why, I'd even<br />
take the river road home....It was about 5 miles longer,<br />
but driving along a mountain stream, with mountain birds singing, and the aroma of Christmas Trees everywhere was not too terrible a fate......<br />
<br />
I never heard a thing about the prank....As the nearest<br />
town was 50 miles up the road....Well, live town. several others there were ghost towns....Maybe Mister Yankee finally calmed down enough to realize he'd been<br />
a source of amusement for a tired old teacher in a<br />
little Reservation town.Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-32224888551067236252015-03-17T09:24:00.001-07:002015-03-17T09:24:15.072-07:00The End of the War<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3sHY-iK78ppCHOFIB-xwW1vGOy01r3qhbfV0GOZug2LLHKXPs6BnolJeRGAoVV2QQcIjDDAJ8F6fp9hHWtg5IZCkNM46mKDx5hnsNQtgDU7CUy3N98zCoR71NHoxqU1tJsE4Be6kO3Qc/s1600/vjday1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3sHY-iK78ppCHOFIB-xwW1vGOy01r3qhbfV0GOZug2LLHKXPs6BnolJeRGAoVV2QQcIjDDAJ8F6fp9hHWtg5IZCkNM46mKDx5hnsNQtgDU7CUy3N98zCoR71NHoxqU1tJsE4Be6kO3Qc/s1600/vjday1.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
It is late in 1944, but there is no Christmas<br />
joy in Germany.....Her cities are little more<br />
than heaps of rubble....The allied bombers<br />
come 24 hours a day....The British by night<br />
and the Americans by day.....100,000 civilians<br />
are dead in Hamburg, Germany's second largest city from fire bomb raids....Desolation<br />
is everywhere.<br />
<br />
V-1 and V-2 Reprisal weapons rain down<br />
on allied cities, but without a guidance system there is no way of controlling what they will hit. Again, it's a race to see who can kill the most women and children, and<br />
Germany is losing.....<br />
<br />
At sea, the much vaunted U-Boats are much<br />
the same as they were in 1940.......80% are<br />
the little 750 ton Mk VII boats another 15%<br />
are the larger 1,200 ton MK IX boats. The<br />
Fatherland's hopes lie in three new types.<br />
The MK-XVI boats with the experimental<br />
Walter closed cycle Hydrogen Peroxide engines......There are problems with them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
They simply explode without warning, and the 6 boats they built have become 3 boats.<br />
<br />
The large MK XXI boats are larger than the<br />
American Submarines, faster than them, and they can dive deeper....one is complete.<br />
7 more are under construction. They could win the war, but Germany will need a 100 of them, and with the allies pounding the shipyards, It may be impossible to complete<br />
the 7 that are unfinished. U-2511 is undergoing sea trials off Norway, but she is<br />
the only complete MK-21 Boat.<br />
<br />
The MK-XXIII boats are small. Their range is short, and they are all electric. Much beyond the coast of Europe and they are useless. Hitler had them built to defend the<br />
Baltic Sea from a seaborne Soviet naval threat that never materialized.<br />
<br />
In short, the German response to the Allied<br />
invasion of Europe is too little and too late.<br />
<br />
The first combat patrol of U-2511 the Nazi<br />
"Super-Sub" occured the day before the war ended. Her captain made a dummy attack on a British Cruiser but did not fire<br />
a torpedo......He knew the war was lost and<br />
simply couldn't stand the thought of useless<br />
bloodshed .....He couldn't resist the chance to make the British look foolish....He made his dummy attack, then sped away at a speed no submarine could manage up until that day. The next day it was all over. Most of<br />
the advanced MK-XVII, MK-XXI's, and MK-XXIII were studied by the British and Americans then given to the French. The<br />
MK-XVII lasted a week before it blew itself out of the water taking 35 Frenchmen with<br />
it......The French operated the MK-XXI Super Subs until 1979....Including the U-2511. Nobody wasted much time on the little MK XXIII electric boats.......<br />
<br />
The Japanese got a copy of the blueprints<br />
for the MK-XXI's and built 2 , 7/8 scale copies neither was finished by the end of the war. They were the first ships in the Imperial Japanese Navy to employ all electric welding.......U.S. Navy sources that<br />
examined the Japanese copies of the MK XXI's said they compared favorably with<br />
the German originals......The Navy Scuttled them in deep water......Relieved, no doubt,<br />
that they never entered active service.Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-11985356480305898952013-11-05T07:50:00.000-08:002013-11-05T07:53:41.097-08:00Rain Rain Go Away...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfE4w7LmsLC96DuAeF-tgie_6Ve97ZWxpK4kxT_m6hgmfGjJinWJGTsg9NGYKBFQY04xHGxgo_PN8mvZXOQIiwfKGdDWSVBIfRjcgINGSaCIlHsbUFyrcgtBG0Ba_u4gBVZlJ0tGhFDjE/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfE4w7LmsLC96DuAeF-tgie_6Ve97ZWxpK4kxT_m6hgmfGjJinWJGTsg9NGYKBFQY04xHGxgo_PN8mvZXOQIiwfKGdDWSVBIfRjcgINGSaCIlHsbUFyrcgtBG0Ba_u4gBVZlJ0tGhFDjE/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/news/2012/jul/13/weatherwatch-clouds-atomic-mushroom"> via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>A mushroom cloud has tragic consequences for Jerry's wife Mary and her family...</b></i><br />
<br />
It was a Spring day in 1945. Not unlike the many beautiful days of Spring in New Mexico.Nobody knew it, then, but it would be a day that would change the world forever.<br />
<br />
Mary's family was having a "work-day." There was a War on, and if you wanted potatoes,<br />
or any other vegetables, well, you'd better be prepared to grow them yourself......Otherwise,<br />
you were into things like rationing........Nobody argued about the need for all this......The<br />
War had to be won....<br />
<br />
Mary's mother took care of the inside of the house......There would be housecleaning and<br />
food preparation to tend to. Her father, Al Kendrick was taking care of the bean crop.<br />
It was only Spring, but the beans were about knee high. Her brother Dick was being a good<br />
farm boy and was helping his dad.......Mary, for her part, was weeding the garden, out about<br />
the radishes and cucumbers.........<br />
<br />
Mary's two older sisters were not around........Bertha was probably down at the drug store<br />
flirting with boys, and Jannet was off to school.....She was a college girl.....<br />
<br />
None of them suspected a thing when there was a clap of what they thought to be thunder.<br />
Even though the sky was clear, thunder storms do come up suddenly......Then came billowing<br />
clouds from the South and a peculiar cloud that was shaped just like a mushroom.<br />
<br />
She'd never seen one like that before, but , oh well, weather is weather, and you've got to<br />
have one kind of it or another.......<br />
<br />
Then came the dust, the clouds, and a rain storm......Even her father wondered where that<br />
peculiar weather had come from.<br />
<br />
Where it came from was a site in the South of the state called "Trinity" by the government.<br />
It was the first Nuclear Explosion in the history of the world.......Even the scientists in their<br />
concrete bunkers acknowledged that the explosion was at least 3 times as powerful as had<br />
been expected. <br />
<br />
Then came the rain. Everyone in the field was soaked to the skin.....and the world would<br />
soon learn a new word "Radioactive" for that was what the rain was.....and the people of<br />
New Mexico started coming down with Cancer.<br />
<br />
Public outcry? Indignation? There was none.....The steel hand of government secrecy<br />
descended on the cases......Records were sealed.....on orders from Washington.....Officially?<br />
Well, it didn't exist! <br />
<br />
Mary's brother, Dick died first, then her father........After a wait, the 5 bouts of Cancer that<br />
would kill Mary started.........The government, then , said it was all, "Rumors and Irresponsible speculation"<br />
How could anything like Nuclear Bombs contain anything harmful? <br />
<br />
Ah, but we are so much wiser today......Why, the government could never get away with such<br />
a thing, now........Or could it?<br />
<br />
<br />
The truth is, the government is just a bit more sophisticated in dealing with these matters.<br />
Besides, we have so many more people to blame it all on, now.Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-11468370866721740252013-10-08T21:32:00.003-07:002013-10-08T21:32:39.314-07:00A Red MG (reflections on another age)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrfGFTyLgvr42sm0YKNIj6jwKdaWTNTHemk_0hUkZUbBdQP78CZ5zFliTl4sciF8ZuE4Ia7-gwW_TTZfw8Fs2DwwT7sTfFiD1_rn-zqUG0eO2Z6gdbyobMc2XO5ePp_L6LW7VybsbHS5k/s1600/1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrfGFTyLgvr42sm0YKNIj6jwKdaWTNTHemk_0hUkZUbBdQP78CZ5zFliTl4sciF8ZuE4Ia7-gwW_TTZfw8Fs2DwwT7sTfFiD1_rn-zqUG0eO2Z6gdbyobMc2XO5ePp_L6LW7VybsbHS5k/s400/1a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo <a href="http://thetechnobabe.blogspot.com/2010_09_01_archive.html">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now an MG is a "Roadster." In ordinary language, it has two seats....There is an open<br />
space behind the seat for the top to fold down into when you drive with the top down.<br />
<br />
With the top up, you can carry paper sacks filled with groceries...About 5 sacks worth cram<br />
it to capacity.........The owner's manual forbade in very harsh language the use of the rear<br />
deck for passengers......Children were forbidden to ride there, and this was in underlined<br />
bold print......<br />
<br />
So, did I ever violate this most virulent of warnings? Hey, C'mon, guys! You know the<br />
answer to that....Of course I did! The secret of doing it with any degree of comfort lay in<br />
taking apart the cloth top and removing the metal framework....It was an involved process,<br />
but it was done often........Putting it back on was worse than taking the top off.<br />
<br />
So, who did I carry back there? Well, on more than one trip, Mary drove and I rode back<br />
there........best example? Well, when we took Grandma Icel to her very favorite Mexican<br />
food place on her birthday......You couldn't ask a lady in her 80s to ride back there, and<br />
Mary steadfastly refused to try it.........It wasn't all that bad, but it wasn't all that great either.<br />
I got some bruises that were difficult to see without two mirrors.....<br />
<br />
Ana Beth rode back there several times.......Did she get bruised? Hey, if you think I'm<br />
going to ask her, you're crazy! I mean, there are limits imposed by decency involved<br />
here. I'd like to think that the damages to her anatomy were minimum...but, I'd just as<br />
soon not know. Lord knows, I tried to be gentle and avoid the bumps.<br />
<br />
I carried Brenda and Dusti a lot of places.......Though the question doesn't apply.<br />
Brenda would never put down her baby anyplace.....She carried her every mile of<br />
the trip. Why, a couple of times, I had 3 ladies sitting on the rear deck with their feet<br />
on the ledge......That was during parades in Dulce and the ladies were beauty contestants.<br />
<br />
I mean, there was status in being carried in the back of the smallest motor vehicle in<br />
Dulce......This was before ATV's. Everybody else got to stand up in the bed of a pick-up.<br />
<br />
So, we've established that an MG is a nominal 2 seater that can carry up to 5 people in<br />
a pinch.......Providing 3 of the passengers are 16 year old Apache girls.<br />
<br />
Mary and I put 186,000 miles on that little car.......Would I own one again? My heart<br />
says Yes......I fear the rest of my body would veto the idea. Why, I could even ride Ana-<br />
Beth up to Cedar Crest and back, and she could even sit in one of the seats this time.<br />
It wouldn't be the same without her mother along; but , I don't know, maybe she would<br />
be with us.......I'd like to think she would be.Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-3010055834135214082013-10-01T08:07:00.002-07:002013-10-01T08:09:48.322-07:00Fighting the fight, a hank of yarn at a time...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdxZwiPA6aOUtf9N0EWB4U6a3PF1ZxWvIcvXsktUSVyqQHx65M7q0njXpsrbSrcwBgLWZ0GMeSe-Gj0rQtWBXkQ5BiWYFLFhcyfgl4TjoKwOZtQY8Oc7NWGiHBvjqUMYniAalYc3pxH8/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdxZwiPA6aOUtf9N0EWB4U6a3PF1ZxWvIcvXsktUSVyqQHx65M7q0njXpsrbSrcwBgLWZ0GMeSe-Gj0rQtWBXkQ5BiWYFLFhcyfgl4TjoKwOZtQY8Oc7NWGiHBvjqUMYniAalYc3pxH8/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo source</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Anything that bought Mary another day was good...</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Going down in a not so great section of El Paso, near the river to buy yarn caused some<br />
small problems......The main one was cultural.......In the Hispanic Culture men would not be<br />
caught dead in a yarn shop buying yarn. Much less, a man who knows the differences in<br />
lot numbers, plys of yarn, and yarn blends.......<br />
<br />
Yet, Mary was fighting for her life, and<br />
anything I had to do to improve her quality of life, or make the struggle easier I was going<br />
to do.......Okay, so it meant learning a lot of things. Like? Well, yarn called "Sports-Yarn"<br />
has some cotton mixed in with the wool, and there are baby yarns that may be 2 ply or 3<br />
ply and regular yarn is 4 ply. Oh it is a whole different world!<br />
<br />
Well, the Mexican ladies down in this emporium of wool often sold 35 pound hunks of<br />
yarn for $10. If I had been forced to buy the stuff at a regular shop.....Like Hancock<br />
Fabrics, my customers couldn't afford it.....Then they wouldn't sit around and chat with<br />
Mary, and she would start to brood about the horrors of the Chemotherapy.....In short,<br />
if I had to let those clerks in the yarn shop think think I was a humpbacked whale, well<br />
and good........Anything that would buy my ailing wife a little time and a little hope would be<br />
done.<br />
<br />
She had lost both breasts and 29 lymph nodes to the cancer, and the Chemo had taken<br />
her hair, or maybe it was the Radiation Therapy, at this point, whichever one was the culprit<br />
is irrelevent.....I've heard it argued both ways.<br />
<br />
So, if these little Mexican ladies thought I was gay, <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
so be it! I got tired of trying to tell<br />
them "Mary No es mi madre, es mi esposa." It got to the point where I didn't care if<br />
they thought the moon was made of green cheese! I only saw them twice a month.<br />
<br />
Why, I even developed a set of mannerisms especially for yarn buying....Laying two<br />
fingers alongside my cheek and pursing my lips while inspecting the yarn....Patting my<br />
foot, and waving my hand and telling them that their new Alpacca yarn was simply<br />
scrumptious.<br />
<br />
Acting? Yea, You betcha! There ain't nothing wrong with my biological drives,<br />
but, if nothing you say can change their minds, why not enjoy making fools of them.<br />
<br />
Okay, so maybe it was a little cruel, Know what? I'd do it again.......Anything that<br />
bought Mary another day was good.......In the long run, it's not vastly different than<br />
the Used Car Salesman's spiel when he's trying to sell you a "clunker".........<br />
<br />
Now Mary had some objections.....Not to my acting, but from the fact that the ladies<br />
thought she was my mother......She was having some problems with her "self-image"<br />
right then......and her feminity was taking a beating in her own mind.<br />
<br />
In the end, we lost the fight.......but we won the first 4 rounds with Cancer, and I bought<br />
her 15 years using every strategy I could think of.......On the whole of it, that statement<br />
sounds concieted as all get out.........She won the fight....It was her victory, not mine.<br />
All I did was to help, and sometimes "Helping" meant just having a shoulder for her<br />
to cry on.........<br />
<br />
In life, dear readers, you fight the fight, every moment, every hour, and every day.<br />
There is time to wonder how in the world you managed everything ,when the fight is over.Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-10955852486944366662013-09-24T08:07:00.004-07:002013-09-24T08:07:42.988-07:00The Games People Play...<b><br /></b>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJaOyDUt20V74ymPSjSrh0qFkA-1OPHN2VXZqigTNVGKOqMnCgNUwohRsGQN6gh0ROm31ZUvolrZq1S-W2rTa_Cyr860dDlq6WW_w_c81mduSxUKIxn6Dy_UlB2sraNohmbqqiUrWI6c/s1600/%601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJaOyDUt20V74ymPSjSrh0qFkA-1OPHN2VXZqigTNVGKOqMnCgNUwohRsGQN6gh0ROm31ZUvolrZq1S-W2rTa_Cyr860dDlq6WW_w_c81mduSxUKIxn6Dy_UlB2sraNohmbqqiUrWI6c/s1600/%601.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.classcreator.com/Dell-City-TX-1969/class_profile.cfm?member_id=1561419">photo source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>..teachers and principal battle over a copier...</b><br />
<br />
Every once in a while, the Administration of the schools in Dell City would get a wise idea.<br />
Often as not, though, there was a long way between wisdom and their ideas.......<br />
<br />
Take the Xerox machine scandal.........Someone in the front office decided that no more would our<br />
precious charges be subjected to the regular purple and white "Spirit-Master" copies that<br />
schools had used for generations.....Now, everything done for the students would be on<br />
Xerox copies.......In fact, if your students were seen with an old fashioned purple and white<br />
copy, there would be "serious-consequences".<br />
<br />
Well, I agreed with the idea......I was sick of having purple stains on my hands....The new<br />
system was cleaner, quicker, and more legible. Then they started playing games......Xerox<br />
copies would cost the teacher .05 cents each......The sum total of your copies would be billed<br />
to you monthly.......All of the sudden, the new idea was no longer a good idea. They were<br />
paying us with one hand and taking back part of our salary with the other hand.<br />
<br />
To make sure nobody cheated, they issued us each a code number......The machine would not<br />
run if you didn't punch a code number into the number-board on top of the machine.....<br />
Well, tempers were running hot.......and our Principal was an idiot.....It didn't take long to figure<br />
out that the code numbers ran from 00 for Kindergarten to 06 for 6th grade.....I am sure<br />
that there was some reason for knowing the other teacher's code number, but it was unethical<br />
to use their number.....The one we needed was the Principal's Private Code. The one that<br />
was used by the office staff.<br />
<br />
Now, Susan, the 6th Grade teacher, found out the Principal's private code.....How?<br />
Seduction? God Forbid! No, The idiot left the code book on his desk, book open to<br />
the code page.....His number was 28......Well, Susan was as anti-establishment as I was,<br />
and soon both 5th and 6th grade teachers were using code number #28 to duplicate<br />
material.....Our private grade level code. Well, we used it just enough to keep down<br />
suspicion. You know, about 5 dollars worth a month.<br />
<br />
We knew that it couldn't last. Somehow, the idiot would get the notion that his code<br />
was compromised, but it took him 2 months.......Then came phase 2, teachers would buy<br />
the paper they were to use from the secretary.......There was even an official color.<br />
Champagne.....A kind of parchment-like hue........People with white paper would be<br />
"cheaters" and crucified or whatever else he had in mind.......Well, no paper mill is going<br />
to turn out a special color for one school district, and a search of El Paso paper suppliers<br />
revealed the exact color we needed......We soon had reams of "Champagne" paper for<br />
about $3.98 a ream.......You kept the stuff in your car and only brought inside what you<br />
were going to use......<br />
<br />
Well, the copy count soared ever upward, but the School System wasn't selling much of<br />
its nickle a sheet paper......and the ledger showed that the Principal was using an Ungodly<br />
amount of the stuff every week.<br />
<br />
What had started as a quiet game of defiance was almost to the edge of Revolution.<br />
The other teachers? Well, about half of them were in on the deal.....There were several<br />
"snitches" who were excluded..........Why, we even sent out fake memoranda on the<br />
official paper bearing a reasonable facsimile of the principal's signature and a nonsense<br />
message.<br />
<br />
Example: Memorandum: It has been decided to change the name of the Principal's<br />
Office.......From now on, students will be sent to the "Fuhrerbunker" and as it is my office,<br />
you will address me as "Der Fuhrer"<br />
<br />
Teachers were rolling in the halls at the humor......Sadly, the Principal had no sense<br />
of humor.....He never saw that the more he played Hitler, the more we gave him the title.<br />
<br />
Then, one day, the game was over.....The paper re-appeared in the copy room, and the<br />
codes and quotas didn't exist anymore......We had made our point, I guess, but we had<br />
also lost......Our Principal announced that he would not be back next year....Why?<br />
"The hostile atmosphere in the school district was endangering his health."<br />
<br />
All we had ever wanted was to be treated like professionals instead of lackeys.......<br />
In the process of fighting for our rights, we had ceased to act like professionals. So,<br />
did we win or did we lose.......I think everybody lost......but what do I know? I'm just<br />
a kid at heart......Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-5322696700784102332013-09-17T07:50:00.003-07:002013-09-17T07:51:39.737-07:00A memory to last a lifetime<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZDLjdtxJfQV2M48FH-7VDT9YDy2BOorLTjU1ODYfhdv6bv5qJAVldmJ0PPbqHNJNX5ZFNjckQabW28qRq52_s4kLLki_sL6j7XLku848rm1VyJdKGFe0fe9bjREVUiSYbVJCMOgec5Y/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZDLjdtxJfQV2M48FH-7VDT9YDy2BOorLTjU1ODYfhdv6bv5qJAVldmJ0PPbqHNJNX5ZFNjckQabW28qRq52_s4kLLki_sL6j7XLku848rm1VyJdKGFe0fe9bjREVUiSYbVJCMOgec5Y/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/cities-where-the-most-rich-people-live-2013-2?op=1">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It is a week that I will remember all my life.......It was the one time that we lied to Ana Beth....<br />
<br />
Mary had seen the doctor.....There was a lump on her breast, and the likelihood of it being<br />
malignant was about 98%. We decided to have Ana-Beth and the kids come to Dell City.<br />
I don't remember who arranged the details, but there was one thing that I had to swear to.<br />
Ana Beth must not know that her mother was sick.......Now, both of us were emotional wrecks,<br />
but as far as our Princess was concerned, it must be a normal family visit......Was it right<br />
or wrong to do things this way? I don't know, but it was not my decision to make....It was<br />
what Mary wanted........<br />
<br />
Ana Beth has a beautiful laugh, and we both needed to hear her laugh again. For Mary,<br />
it might be her last time to hear her daughter laugh. So, I drove to the far west side of El Paso<br />
and escorted Ana Beth's car out to Dell City........<br />
<br />
As far as anybody was concerned, it was a lark, a happy time.....A chance to see the grandkids.<br />
The deep somber undercurrents had to be painted over......They didn't exist......<br />
<br />
<br />
That was the time I really bonded with Sara.....She became the apple of my eye....A place<br />
she has held every day of her life since then. Did we fool Ana Beth? One of the things<br />
about her is her uncanny ability to read situations through some psychic link that seemed<br />
to exist between her and her mother.......She knew there was something wrong, but she wasn't<br />
certain just what.........<br />
<br />
I held Mary close and we cried when Ana-Beth, Sara, Jesse, and Brian left. Everything<br />
in us wanted to hold on to them, but the children were so small, and a Hospital is no place<br />
for children 4, 3, and 2, years of age......<br />
<br />
The day of Mary's surgery came, and I cursed myself for being too protective of Ana-Beth,<br />
and letting Mary talk me into keeping her un-informed.......Yet, Ana-Beth was also the fragile<br />
one.......If things went badly, as they quite likely would, there would be time for tears. Buckets<br />
of tears, Oceans of tears......Why give her a few extra days of worry?<br />
<br />
Then the surgery was done. She had lost both breasts and 29 lymph nodes...Beyond<br />
that, the doctor had given her 3 months to live at the outside........I had been in the recovery<br />
room with my wife.....I was there when the nurses couldn't get enough blood pressure to<br />
register on their machine.<br />
<br />
I knew then, that Ana Beth should have known. For her sake? No, for my sake. I desperately<br />
needed someone to cling to.<br />
<br />
We found another Doctor, and the M.D. Anderson trained Oncologist stretched the three<br />
months into 15 years. We fought Cancer about every other year for a long time.....In the end,<br />
we lost the fight, but we fought every minute of the fight together.<br />
<br />
So, why is the old fool burrowing into the sad years of the past? Is there impending doom?<br />
No, quite the opposite....Ana Beth and Sara are flying into Albany for my birthday.....I have<br />
not seen them in so many years. They are my ladies, and they will be here with me.<br />
How can I explain how I feel........Somehow, I feel that, just maybe, Mary will be here too.<br />
Be happy for us, dear friends.<br />
<br />
They'll be here the evening of July 9, and they will leave on the 13th......My fearless 4 year<br />
old grand daughter is a lady, and Ana-Beth? my 5 foot 11.5" blue eyed blonde bombshell?<br />
Oh she'll wrap me around her little finger as she has for many years, and I'll enjoy every<br />
minute of it.--June 17, 2010Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-85399127921776371882013-09-10T07:49:00.002-07:002013-09-10T08:00:00.108-07:00Chasing storms? Not me!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqMvvkgErLJK1XyLcgjYzux1y1BjnQfzd2IAnrp-xJOo-hO2a-b80p6jLiz2mr9Xp24jBQj8AbFGd19fHdCgkWorLURfLu1LgTySn0dep-JH9hrWTV8SEDi-4ORdgmxOKIeJUGodEIT8/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqMvvkgErLJK1XyLcgjYzux1y1BjnQfzd2IAnrp-xJOo-hO2a-b80p6jLiz2mr9Xp24jBQj8AbFGd19fHdCgkWorLURfLu1LgTySn0dep-JH9hrWTV8SEDi-4ORdgmxOKIeJUGodEIT8/s1600/1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by James L. Standfield <a href="http://www.posters2prints.com/storm-looms-over-pulliam-ridge-chihuahuan-desert-big-bend-nati-giclee-print-pr-100329.html">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
People do the darndest things........One of our Elementary Teachers, down in the Primary<br />
Grades was a "Storm Chaser." Storms in the Chihuahua Desert come up suddenly, mostly<br />
appearing first, in the East, over Guadalupe Peak, and you could count on this lady<br />
jumping into her car and following the storm......One evening, along about 8PM, she came<br />
by the house, pointed at the lightning and thunder in the South East, and told me.....Not<br />
asked me, mind you, told me , to jump in the car and help her catch up to the storm.<br />
<br />
Now, as a married man, I couldn't see just jumping into a car with a woman, leaving my<br />
wife and chasing a storm......It did not seem designed to promote domestic tranquility.<br />
<br />
So, I asked her the vital question, "After you've caught the storm, what are you going to<br />
do with it?" In response, she told me that by tracking the storm she just might save the<br />
whole town! Save the town? Yea, and destroy my marriage while she was at it.....I didn't<br />
want any part of whatever game she was playing, and I wasn't convinced that Storm Warnings<br />
were what she was up to.<br />
<br />
So I explained to her that all she needed to do was look at the sky for lightning, and when<br />
you saw it, start counting 1 (one thousand) 2 (one thousand) 3 (one thousand) and when you heard the thunder, stop! Whatever number you got to was how far the storm was from you.<br />
Do it several times and you could tell if it was getting closer or farther.<br />
<br />
About that moment, I saw a flash and started counting....I had reached 4 when I heard the<br />
thunder....."There!" says I, it's 4 miles away.....The next lightning was 5 miles away,<br />
then 6....Plainly, the storm was headed south, away from us.<br />
<br />
Then, she wanted to follow it anyway.......Well, this did not look like weather forcasting<br />
at all......Maybe "Hanky-Panky" but who knows......She was obviously miffed. She<br />
was going anyway!<br />
<br />
So I asked how? There were no roads going south except FM 1111 and the Fort Davis<br />
Highway.....and miles of empty desert between the two points......Was she going to chase<br />
it clean across the Diablo Mountains on foot?<br />
<br />
Then came the What If's. What if it started a flash flood? I'd hate it, of course, but there<br />
was nothing for 50 miles in that direction.....It would doubtless drown a few rabbits and<br />
tarantulas, maybe a rattler or two. I concluded that I wasn't into giving mouth to mouth<br />
resecutation to any of those creatures....Especially the Rattler.<br />
<br />
Well, the subject changed, what if it spawned a tornado? Well, say's I, in that case<br />
I'd watch "Piewacket," my Seal Point Siamese cat......He would recognize the pressure<br />
changes before I would. At that point, said cat rubbed against my leg and assured me<br />
that he would, in fact, do just that.......After that, it would be every cat for himself.<br />
<br />
At that point, she said something I didn't quite hear, jumped into her car and sped off<br />
after the storm......Mary looked at me and asked, "Is she playing with a full deck?"<br />
I shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not, but whether she is just a few cards short of a full<br />
deck, or a divorcee with a hormonal surge, I don't want any part of the game."<br />
<br />
Mary looked at me, and replied, "That's what I love about you, you're smarter than you<br />
seem to be."<br />
<br />
So I stroked Mr. Piewacket , and pondered whether or not I had been complimented.<br />
.......but he didn't understand females either. The lightning flashed again, this time<br />
the thunder was 10 seconds behind..."She'd better hurry," I said, " that storm is about to get<br />
away from her!"Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-11853473828047221042013-09-04T09:05:00.001-07:002013-09-04T09:05:27.027-07:00The Case of the Girly BookOf all the things that kids do, being sneaky is one thing they seem to do well. At least<br />
5th Graders.....After 10 years of teaching at that grade level, I can testify to that......<br />
Another thing they do very well is lie.....Forget the garbage that psychologists teach you.<br />
If a kid can avoid responsibility for their actions by telling a lie, they will do so.<br />
<br />
Take the case of a kid named "Mike" One Wednesday afternoon, I noticed a peculiar<br />
thing was happening......My boys were, asking, one at a time, for a pass to go to the restroom.<br />
This was suspicious, so I asked the teacher next door to peek out the door of her room<br />
when my kids passed to see what was happening.....If I had gone to the door, they would have<br />
guessed that the jig was up and everything would stop.<br />
<br />
Well, Susan was a dear friend, and still is.....She slipped to the doorway when she heard my<br />
classroom door open and close.....After the class was over she told me that the boys were<br />
taking a manila envelope from one boy's locker, sneaking down to the restroom and coming<br />
back....They would replace the envelope on their way back to class.......This smacked to me<br />
of the old "girlie book" caper.....<br />
<br />
Well, while the kids were at recess, I went for the Principal......There was a fine line here.<br />
Students, according to the Federal Courts System have "a right to privacy" Together,<br />
we went to the locker in question and got the manila envelope.....Sure enough, there<br />
was a particularly raunchy girly magazine in the locker.......Well, the Principal, bless<br />
his little pointy head, wanted the boy spanked and expelled. There was no denying whose<br />
magazine it was....The boy's father's mailing label was still on the front......<br />
<br />
So, I outlined a plan to him.....I would go to the teacher's lounge, find a magazine of<br />
an innocent nature, place the magazine in the envelope, and confiscate the naughty one.<br />
I decided that a "Lady's Home Journal" had about the same size and bulk.....The Principal<br />
kept the naughty one. Well, after recess, the kids in need of a "Potty Break" began<br />
again.....This time, after about the third visit.....The trips ceased and an uneasy undercurrent<br />
seemed to fill the room.....The boys were in a fighting mood, and Mike seemed to be the<br />
object of their anger.<br />
<br />
Well, it was only 45 minutes, and my Social Studies lesson from the end of the day, so<br />
I just kept a lid on the situation. I knew something would happen, after school, and it<br />
did.....The last 3 boys cornered Mike and beat him up for cheating them.....Of course,<br />
the Principal had been waiting for this to happen; and, in his office, the whole truth came<br />
out.....Mike was charging the boys .25 cents each for a look at "his" magazine. There<br />
were 18 boys in the class, and some 10 had paid for a peek.......The last 3 got "Lady's<br />
Home Journal".....They were the 3 that beat up Mike.....End of story? Ha! don't you<br />
believe it!<br />
<br />
Mike told his parents that somebody planted the magazine in his locker, and he didn't<br />
know it was there......So where did the quarters come from? Well, Mike claimed that<br />
he'd saved lunch money.....Then the Principal pulled the girly book out of his desk and<br />
showed the father the mailing label on it.......<br />
<br />
Father screamed that his son's right to privacy had been violated , and that his boy<br />
had a perfect right to read whatever magazine he liked without "Sexual Bigots" being<br />
involved.<br />
<br />
He then bought his boy a huge padlock to keep prudes from framing him. Then he threatened<br />
to sue the School District for "Invasion of Privacy"......Well, that was the final indignity.<br />
The Principal turned the magazine ,complete with mailing label ,over to Child Protective<br />
Services.........<br />
<br />
The father pulled his kids out of school and fled across the state line just ahead of<br />
the police.....The rest of the story? Is there something else? Sadly, Yes. Mike was<br />
killed in an automobile accident near Alamogordo, New Mexico a few years later.<br />
<br />
You know, parenting is tough ......and none of the so called "manuals" the publishing<br />
companies sell is worth that much.......I do believe that a person is obligated to give<br />
the job his best effort, though...Failure to do so is a betrayal of your<br />
child, and your duty.<br />
<br />
That Principal was a good one... he had backbone, imagination, and a sense of humor.<br />
He lasted 2 years instead of one.....Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3894341849106846644.post-763542372860490312013-08-27T13:12:00.000-07:002013-08-27T13:38:49.569-07:00Home? Why, it's where the heart is!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTIzgxZQ7axrBhDcAqggoHOje0pRbdGAAXum80xuVd2RPQCqP5GFu1wIwE9s_zMa-HXKelv64zDI4rwG_JaylYBsZaIOkg6nG6tMoFG_K_3Yw4RQgenz3MszOl0CaeD9w5at3ykDp4Dgs/s1600/Sandia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTIzgxZQ7axrBhDcAqggoHOje0pRbdGAAXum80xuVd2RPQCqP5GFu1wIwE9s_zMa-HXKelv64zDI4rwG_JaylYBsZaIOkg6nG6tMoFG_K_3Yw4RQgenz3MszOl0CaeD9w5at3ykDp4Dgs/s400/Sandia.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://kimjew.deviantart.com/art/The-Sandia-Mountains-ABQ-NM-132597390">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The evenings in New Mexico are spectacular.....The whole of the western sky seems to be<br />
on fire with a sunset rich in oranges and reds, with just the faintest hint of pinks and blues,<br />
topping it off is a wash of purple........I've taken 2 and a half lines and yet I have yet to touch<br />
on the essential elements of the high altitude (5,000+ feet) sunset. How could I? I am,<br />
after all, not drawing on beauty that is right outside my window......I speak from 30 year old<br />
memories........ One day, I shall write of such sunsets as they are seen outside my own<br />
window. I'm afraid that I took them for granted when I was there........<br />
<br />
It is easy to get lost in the mind numbing beauty of such sights....A sunset, there, is, after all,<br />
no small matter. It takes up one third of the sky. In its last moments before the inky blackness<br />
of night claims its whole domain, there is the orange-red afterglow to remind us of the beauty<br />
that has been.<br />
<br />
For the people who shake their heads and remind me that "You can't go home again" To<br />
some extent, I must agree......My last sojourn on the Texas Gulf Coast was an unmitigated<br />
disaster.......Between Mary's death and Hurricanes I have little but bad memories.<br />
<br />
Albuquerque is the place my heart calls home........No matter what bungling bureaucrats<br />
in Texas say. This, God Willing, will be my last move......Fatalist? Not in the least!<br />
Who would want to live outside the range of their family's visits.......Perhaps I will even<br />
have great-grandchildren, one day......I'll spoil them rotten, of course!<br />
<br />
I remember, one trip north from Ana-Beth's home to Dulce via Cuba, New Mexico.<br />
<br />
There was a strange procession of men and women, plainly dressed walking besides<br />
the highway.......I glanced through the rear view mirror and asked Mary who they might<br />
be......She knew, of course, and proclaimed them to be "Penitents" Priests and Nuns<br />
re-assigned to lonely lives of prayers and fasting because of failures to live up to<br />
the demands of their calling...........It was a lonely and silent group, but in this little place<br />
and time, I guessed that God Himself had put them as close to heaven as He could.<br />
<br />
What better place? There, in the wilderness, surrounded by God's beauty, and yet,<br />
somehow not quite in touch with paradise, yet. It seems appropriate, somehow.<br />
The loads of guilt they carry might seem lighter with the promise of ultimate redemption<br />
within plain sight.<br />
<br />
Am I then a Penitent, as well? Perhaps in my own way.....More likely, I am more or less<br />
like an old car that has languished in a hostile northern junkyard for 5 years......I have<br />
passed my time feeling neither great pain or great joy........Now, I am being put back on<br />
the road again, not a classic by any means, but I will experience all the joys and anguish<br />
of being alive, again.......and as I hold my 5 foot 11 3/4" blue eyed blonde love close to me,<br />
I will know, first hand, the healing properties God has given the western desert, and I<br />
will rejoice in His Love.<br />
<br />
Jerry B. Moseley 8/24/10Cindy Swansonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14090693362997103412noreply@blogger.com0