DST

Daylight Saving Time (United States) 2014 begins at 2:00 AM on

Sunday, March 9

which is great, because the clock on the car radio will be in agreement with convention again-- for six months.  (But nevertheless, the whole concept is stupid, imo.  It is particularly noxious because we live in a state that observes geographically incorrect time zone anyway, such that we are really on "daylight savings time" all the time.  Except when we are on double daylight time.  Check it out here.) 

Signs of Spring at Chez vanilla

Besides resetting the clocks tonight.

Friday, March 7, 12;47 p.m.  BBBH:  "There's a robin in our yard!"  Indeed there was.

1:45 - 2:30  It is 62^o outside.  Really.  Vanilla is in the yard picking up sticks and branches that have lain on, in, and under the snow for many weeks.  Well, some longer than others, for they came down over a protracted period of time.  Some of the sticks had been lightened by the removal of the bark by the starving bunnies.  Glad we could help feed the poor little things.

2:32 p.m.  As he was walking toward the street, vanilla observed an F-250 flying down the road.  It stopped at the other end of the block.  Stop sign.  But then.  Then the driver puts the vehicle in reverse and flies back up the street, passing me at a pretty good hickory. Gets to cross street, stops.  Backs into said street.  To turn around?  Nay, not so.  To back the entire block down the street to the next street.  Then he backs a block up that street, a block back toward our street, and finally puts it in "forward" and proceeds out of sight to the north.  Signs of Spring everywhere, I tell ya.

Making Boards

Wherein Grandpa assumes the role of storyteller.  The Old Uncle is less than thrilled.

Grandpa and Red pulled up in Red's red International as I was toting the last two pails of milk from the barn to the separator in the cellar.  Aunt Grace was turning out the last of the previous load as I poured the next bucket in.

Uncle Jep had let the cows out the stanchions and opened the gate to the east pasture.  He and I strolled over to the saw where Grandpa was checking the belts and levers.  "'Bout time you got around.  Been sleepin' in?"

I glanced to the east and saw that the sun was an exact semi-circle on the edge of the earth, knew it was just a smidge before five-thirty.  How many cows you milked this morning?" I asked.

"You may never live long enough to milk as many cows as I have.  You are a bit impertinent, talking to your grandfather like that.  I done been over to Red's this morning, and we already reconnected his windmill shaft where the bolt broke last night.  Enough sass.  Let's get to work."

I won't bore you with the details.  Grandpa is a cracker-jack sawyer.  We all buck the logs onto the carriage, Grandpa and Uncle turn and set them, then Grandpa grabs his levers and BUZZ-ZZZ.  Red and I carry off and stack the boards.

Eleven o'clock Aunt Grace bustles down to the sawmill.  "All y'all on up to the kitchen, now.  Vittles on the table."  I hit the kill switch on the engine, and we all trudged up to the house  where we washed up at the tub by the back door.  The five of us settled in at the table and relished Aunt Grace's scrumptious meatloaf with mashed taters and gravy, green beans she had picked from the garden just yesterday.  Pie, of course.  Cherry this time.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Mary's mother, Margaret came out here and stayed and stayed?" Grandpa asked as we scooted back to relax a few minutes before we went back to work.

"You mean the time you messed with her shoes, 'n then she went home on account a Marvin broke his foot?"  Uncle Jep, of course.  "Man, that woman is a stayer, fer sure.  I recollect. . ."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Jeptha Miller.  You jump in and steal someone else's story.  And no, I'ma not talkin' about shoes.  Mary says to me one evening, "Mama and I are going into Lamar tomorrow.  I reckon that Double A truck will haul the three of us."

So I says, says I, "Then you and your mama are expecting me to drive you into town."

"Yes, " and she blew out the lamp.  Well, I lyin' there thinkin' all the things I had planned for tomorrow gonna have to move to another day, 'cause there is no arguin' with those two when they have made up their minds.

Bright clear morning, not going to be too hot, probably won't get much over ninety.  We drove on over to Lamar, and I am going right down Main Street.  When we get to Olive, Mary says, "You just pull over here and let us out.  Pick us up right here in two hours.  That's not two hours and ten minutes.  Hear?  And go on and do what old men do while hanging around town.  And don't go over to the pool hall, either."

"Well, she knew full well I'd go over to the pool hall.  Now I hadn't shot any pool in a coon's age, but I hadn't lost the touch, either."

Uncle Jep's mill been plugged long as he can stand, so he pipes up and says, "Didja whup up on ol' Harley Dice?  Man, he needin' his ears pinned back."

"Matter of fact," says Grandpa, "I did give him a couple games of eight ball.  Cleaned his clock, too."

"Take any of his money?" asked Red.

"Six, eight dollars," replied Grandpa.  "It was just for fun, doncha know.  Well, I am back at Main and Olive right on the dot.  Those two ladies just rounding the corner from the Mercantile.

They get in the truck and Mary says, "Just drive on around back to the loading dock at the Mercantile."

"There's words to strike fear into a man's heart, believe me.  And oh, my, in this case it were justified fear.  But story time is over for now.  We gotta get back on the saw.  Still have logs begging to be sliced."

© 2014 David W. Lacy

Grist for the Mill

Playtime: 35 seconds.

The stories I garnered while we were sawing lumber have been written and are ready to post, and thus it is that one needs to prepare another tale. I find that my mill is turning, but there is no grist.  As I ponder this sorry state of affairs, suddenly I hear, as though he were sitting in the lounger opposite me, the voice of the Old Uncle.

Uncle Jep went on to fill me in on Aunt Ida's life in the City.

Yes, Uncle, thank you.  I think that may get me started.

Testimony of Cyrus

Thus saith Cyrus king of Persia, The Lord God of heaven hath given me all the kingdoms of the earth; and he hath charged me to build him an house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. 3 Who is there among you of all his people? his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel, (he is the God,) which is in Jerusalem. 4 And whosoever remaineth in any place where he sojourneth, let the men of his place help him with silver, and with gold, and with goods, and with beasts, beside the freewill offering for the house of God that is in Jerusalem.  --Ezra 1:2 KJV 
(Known as Cyrus's Edict of Restoration)

Cyrus the Great, "King of the Four Corners of the World" ruled the Achaemenid Empire from 559 B.C. until his death in 530 B.C.  His rule encompassed the land between the Mediterranean and the Indus River, the largest empire known to man up until that time.

Interesting how God used a gentile, a powerful world ruler, to effect His purposes for His people.  Reckon He still uses people who are not necessarily His followers to accomplish His ends these days?

My Aunt Fern

I got a call from my cousin, Pat.  It was not unexpected, but she conveyed the sad news that her mother, my aunt, had passed.  Aunt Fern was the last member of my parents' generation, so far as family is concerned.  Our generation now boasts the oldest members of the family.  This is not surprising, for most of us are great-grandparents in our own right.

My Thursday posts for the past several months have been fictional accounts of events on the High Plains in an earlier day.  Here, in her honor is my Aunt Fern's obituary.  It is a non-fictional account of one person's life on the High Plains.

Fern Lacy 1/7/1920 - 2/23/2014              Fern (Hendrix) Lacy, 94, passed away February 23, 2014 at the Belmont Senior Center in Pueblo. She was born on January 7, 1920 in Syracuse, Kansas to Weaver and Nelle (Carter) Hendrix. She was the fifth and youngest child. She married Ben Lacy on May 14, 1939, and began their married life in The Towner and Sheridan Lake areas.  He preceded her in death in 2010. Fern spent most of her early school years in a little country school. Her parents were living on a farm outside of Syracuse at this time and Fern rode a horse to school. In 1931, Fern’s parents decided to move to Colorado. There was more grassland for their growing cattle herd. On May 1, 1931, when Fern was 11 years old, they began the 60 mile journey to their new Colorado home. Fern rode a horse the entire way, driving a herd of cattle. This trip took about 6 or 7 days. They settled southeast of Brandon, Colorado, where Fern rode 14 miles on a school bus to get to the Brandon school. In the summer of 1935 a “new boy” moved in to the neighborhood. This new boy was to become Fern’s husband for 70 years. Fern and Ben organized a country/western dance band, the Prairie Ramblers, which became a popular dance band. Fern began teaching 4-H girls to cook and sew. On July 1, 1954 they bought a home in Las Animas and lived there until they retired and moved to Canon City. Ben was elected as the Bent County Assessor, a job he held for 19 years. Fern became active in her church and many clubs and organizations. She continued teaching 4-H girls. She also taught Sunday school for many years. She is survived by her children, Pat (Wilber) Thomas and Duane (Elsie) Lacy; seven grandchildren, 13 great-grandchildren and one great, great-grandson, plus a host of friends. She was preceded in death by her parents and husband. Peacock-Larsen Funeral Home and Arkansas Valley Crematory is in charge of arrangements.     Funeral Service: Saturday, March 1, 11 am                        Visitation: Saturday, 9-11 am                               Place: Peacock Memorial Chapel

Moving Trees and Shopping Sprees

Wherein we learn of an unfettered shopping binge.

Well, Uncle Jep had Burl Moffitt bring his old flatbed truck over, and we invited Jake Palmer to bring his McCormick with the lift.  A couple good neighbors is worth more than a city full of lawyers and stockbrokers.  The four of us had wrestled all those logs we had stacked over by the river onto the truck and had hauled them to the sawmill on our place.  Took two trips.  Old saw will be plenty busy.

"Good day's work," chuckled Uncle Jep as we were taking off our jackets and boots in the mud room.  "Tomorrow looks to be a perfect day fer sawin'."

We went into the kitchen where Aunt Grace had supper ready to set on the table.  Pork chops and fried taters!  "Hit du'n't get any better than this!" Uncle enthused as he patted Aunt Grace on the behind.  "Stop now, you Old Coot, and set yourself down."  Auntie joined us at the table long enough to say a blessing over the food, yes, and over mighty near everyone she knew, or had ever heard of.  I swan, I thought the pork chops would be cold before she got "our President and our nation" blessed and said "Amen."  Uncle and I muttered our "amen" and Aunt Grace was up and bustling about as she served us our meal.  Corn dodger and turnip greens to go with!  Man, it is no wonder I love this place.

We all tucked in, and as we were slowing down and mopping the last morsels from our plates, Uncle Jep said, "Your grandpa is coming over right early in the mornin'.  Bringin' Red Hurd with him.  The four of us can make a lot of lumber afore the sun sets.  Did I ever tell you about the time Red Hurd got that bull from over to the Huerfano?  Oh, yeah.  I recollect I tole you that.  Anyway, after Red got that bull, Maybelle says to him, 'You can spend a fortune on a ugly ol' beast like thet, I kin take some time and money to go to Denver to see my sister.'  Waal, ya can't argue with a woman's logic, an' she went.  Red carried her over to Lamar to catch the train, on account a the Chief nor none of the faster trains stop anywhere in our neighborhood.

"So Maybelle's sister, Irene, you may recollect Irene, married Stubs McAnally from clear over to Dalhart, but they settle in Denver soon after they marry, Irene meet Maybelle at Union Station.   Stubs' real name were Grover, but ever'one call him "Stubs" after he get the fingers on his left hand am-pu-tated in the mill accident over to Swink.  Waal, he di'n't mind the moniker on account a he never did much cotton to "Grover" anyways.  So afore he come up thisaway, Grover grow up around Dalhart, an ever'one says he had a sweetheart there who done broke his heart, so to speak.  Beauty, she was.  You heard a her, Veronica Land she call herself now.  Been in pitchers out to Hollywood several years.  Well, Stubs got mighty lucky, you ask me.  Not a better woman on earth than Irene, salt a the earth.  Well, Maybelle is, too.  The Wrights knew how to bring up younguns, those girls and both they brothers would give you they last dime, you needed it.  And Veronica, my land sakes, she been married four, five times now, or so they say, not that I would pay any attention."  I sneaked a look at Aunt Grace out the corner of my eye.  And she was rolling her eyes, I tell you.



"So," continued the old Uncle, "those two girls painted thet town, I tell ya.  They got this here Daniels and Fisher de-partment store over to Denver 'n Maybelle not been shoppin' in a coon's age, and a long-tooth coon, at thet.  Believe me when I tell you she 'n Irene like to clean the place out.  I mean, she hadda pack and ship her buys Railway Express, and even the shippin' costs was somethin' to make yer eyes pop.  'Course Red know better than to say a word about any of it.  Well, I reckon I might should 'scuse myself now."

"Oh, now,"  Aunt Grace speaking.  "Here," she says as she sets the plates in front of us, "please to try some of this apricot pie I made this afternoon."  Both of us made many an "Ooh," and "Ah!" and "This is wonderfuls" as we enjoyed the flakiest crust and sweetest fruit ever set before a man.  And Aunt Grace ate it up; the compliments, I mean.  Well, the pie, too.

 At last, Jep scooted his chair back from the table.  “Thank you, Sweet Thang,” he says to Aunt Grace, and he gave her a peck on the forehead.  “I’ma toddle off to bed now; gotta be up when the rooster crows.  You, too, Sonny.  Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Text © 2014 David W. Lacy

Talent Gone Too Soon

2011 Commemorative stamp, US Postal Service.

February 26, 1995 before an audience of over 66,000 people, Selena gave a televised performance at the Houston Astrodome.  It was to be her last major performance.

One month later, March 31, Selena Quintanilla-Perez died of a gunshot wound inflicted by a former president of the Selena Fan Club.  She was sixteen days short of her twenty-fourth birthday.

Miramor de la Flor, a memorial to Selena in downtown Corpus Christi, was opened to the public in 1997.  BBBH and I visited this tribute to the singer in 2000.

April 16 is "Selena Day" in the State of Texas.

Selena  April 16, 1971 - March 31, 1995  RIP