How Very Interesting

The El Rito area north of Questa (where we use to live) was at one time a hippie/Buddhist commune. The people there were called "Hermanites" because the guru’s name had been Herman. Back in the 60-70’s all had been good, but then Herman supposedly slept with several of the commune wives. Apparently, that was the downfall of the commune. I think that the commune people just grew up – had families. Some probably got hungry and went to work and began to lead fairly normal lives. To say the least there were some strange folk with some strange backgrounds who lived in the area. Just to explain the odd neighborhood, I will tell you about the Wisemans. They built a Buddhist stupa (sp?) on their property for community use. Later the Wiseman’s got divorced. The wife began calling herself Lorna Wisewoman. Because the commune folks homeschooled their children (School of the Northstar) we were sometimes invited to participate in homeschool activities. One activity that the Wisemans (Woman) put on was a Christmas play. We chose not to participate for several reasons. One of my friends asked me why we were not participating in the Christmas play. I said, "Because they are Buddhist." as if that would explain my feelings, but my friend said, "Oh then it is okay, because they are Christian–Buddhists." I still said no thanks. Later my friend came to me and said, "Guess what? It turns out the Wisemans are not only Christian-Buddhists, but they are also Jewish!" That was normalcy in El Rito.

My closest neighbor was an older couple who had retired and moved to the area. The wife, Sylvan, was a Crazy Cajun from Baton Rouge. They had several rental houses on their property – one renter owned about seven wolf dogs. Sylvan raised miniature donkeys or wolf food as we called them. The Edwards who lived further up the mountain owned Questa Honey (good stuff), and had been part of the commune at one time. They were fairly normal people – friendly enough, but yet different. One winter, Sylvan (Cajun lady) invited us to her son’s wedding. We had never met the guy, but the neighbors came out of the woodwork for the party (winters can be boring). I can’t begin to tell you how odd this wedding was. The wolf people came. He had a big knot on his for head that caused my kids to stare while he sang the oddest wedding song (really badly - causing the rest of us to stare). His wife wore a purple shirt belted at the waist that barely covered her bottom and purple leotards making her look like a purple fairy. The wedding was officiated by a Baptist preacher form OK. He sang too with his hick Okie accent making quite the contrast with the wolfman. The bride’s son had a huge flower (tigerlily) pinned on his shirt. We later learned he had pulled it from some floral arrangement since he did not have a boutonniere. The Edward’s son was wearing a white shirt with a tie and sweat pants. Sylvan’s daughter came to the wedding with her new husband and baby. The odd thing was that she was about 30 years old and had been runner up to Miss Texas in her day. She was gorgeous. Her husband was 65 – not nearly so cute. Their baby was a few months old at the time. During the party, I was holding the baby - setting next to the old man. B. Edwards (honey farm) was sitting near me. She said, "What an adorable baby! What is her name?" Since I did not know the baby’s name, I turned to father and asked. He answered. Then B Edwards said, "Oh, is that the grandfather?" I smiled and said, "No, that is the father." The look on B’s face was priceless, but then she smiled and said, "Oh how very interesting." Some how, we managed to keep straight faces, but that was such an understatement for the whole evening. After that "How very interesting" became my statement for any and all oddities – it works well in all situations.

Spring Is in the Air

What is it about springtime that makes you want to clean house? Could it be that my house is just so dirty, full of clutter, and needs a good goin’ over that I am beginning to get claustrophobia? It seems that I am not a nest-builder, which is a person who carefully builds her little nest neatly and efficiently. Nope, I am a pack rat or stacker and procrastinator. I have little piles of stuff – art supplies, magazines, books, bills, ironing, etc. Although the piles rather than files work well for me, I get a little crazed after a while. It is time to go through the piles and do some serious sorting.

There is also lots to be done on my little house. Where to begin is the big question. Trim work? Na, that can wait. Patio? Soon maybe. Yard work? Definitely needed and it is the season. Stucco? Oh my aching bones! Barn? Most needed and have the least control over. Cabinets? In my dreams. Closet doors? Who needs them? Fence and gate? Move that way on down the list. All of the ten million things on the list? I guess we will just keep chipping away at it.

The other problem with spring is the great weather. It is the perfect time to be doing all the chores, but it’s also the perfect time for goofing off. Golf or gate? Tennis or barn? Kayaking or closet doors? See the problem. The real problem is that I would rather live life and have fun than be orderly and neat. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your view) Toby is the same. We both can be talked into fun rather than work in a heartbeat. It will all come together. It is all good. And yet, I feel the need to clean. Someone talk me out of it.

Reviews

If you have not read Michael Fay's latest post, you might want to head over to his blog. He is an artist with the Marines and recently home from Iraq. He has an incredible story and pictures.

The Alamo:
We watched the latest version of "The Alamo" the other night. It has a great list of actors although I cannot say I was impressed with all of the acting. In fact, I cannot say I was impressed with the movie. Maybe I am just a big John Wayne fan, and I like Sam Elliot too, but I did not care for the portrayal of the fighting Texans in this movie. They seemed a bit wishy-washy like they could not decide if they really wanted to fight or not. The movie made it seem like the Alamo was their first battle, and dressed in top hats, they just looked silly. I was afraid they were going to make Davy Crocket’s character a real wimp. Yet, he was able to pull through. I liked him well enough, but why Billy Bob Thorton? Were all the tough men in Hollywood busy at the time or are there just not any tough men anymore? My other big question is why do they always make Texas look like a wasteland. My idea of Texas, especially the San Antonio area, would be lush. And where was the river? The really funny part of the movie was watching the Mexicans march through snow to get to the Alamo. One character tells Travis that he does not think the Mexicans will fight in the winter having to march through snow (then the scene cuts to exactly that). Jesse commented that she thought that would be the perfect time to fight in Texas. Why wait for the heat? I was disappointed in Mr. Ron Howard’s movie.

Translator

Something that Buck said a few days ago made me think of other funny things about living in Northern NM. Life there is much different from any place else in the state or in the USA for that matter. As I have said before, most of my students there were Hispanic, but they did not speak Spanish any better than I did. That does not mean they had not lost their accents. Their accents were sing-songy Spanish/Texas – Spanish, of course, was due to their ancestors, but the Texan was due to their working around tourists. It is a great accent – very easy to pick up on. Even Anglo kids who went to school in N NM had the accent which is pretty funny to hear.

The first year we moved back to RR, Questa ISD put in portable school buildings so that the RR kids did not have to come down the canyon to attend school. The kids at the RR school were all Anglos, but they were still a part of the Questa ISD and participated in sports and other school competitions. I was teaching at the jr. high in Questa when they had the district spelling bee. Kids from all the QISD showed up. Things were rocking along like in all spelling bees with the principal of the Questa Ele.Schools (Ms. Gonzales) reading the words to the students, and the students spelling them. Then Ms. Gonzales read the word "bitter" to one of the Anglo/RR kids. That should have been easy enough, but the child spelled what she had heard, "beater" and got the word wrong. The RR moms flew into outrage. At this point, I was called in to translate (or correct) the principal’s English for the Anglo kids. I thought that was quite humorous.

Later on that year, the QISD had a language arts contest. Kids from the district gathered to compete in poetry/prose readings. Ms. Alverez and I were backstage tallying points and announcing winners. In one competition Ms. Alverez turned to me and read off three Anglo names, and then said, "Well, it looks like RR made a sweep in that category." Knowing all of the RR kids well, I told Ms Alverez, "Just because the students are Anglo does not mean they are from RR. Rita is from Questa Ele." Ms Alverez looked a bit sheepish and said, "I just assumed!" We both burst out laughing.

A year or so later, I moved up to teach at the high school in Questa. The debate coach was preparing his students to attend the state speech and debate tournament in Portales at Eastern NMSU. There is a big difference in the Portales area and Northern NM. Portales my have a Hispanic population, but it not the majority as in N NM. In fact, there are lots of West Texans attending ENMSU. The coach wanted me to go to Portales with the team because I would be taking over his position the next year and needed to learn the ropes. Then the coach could not resist teasing me about my Texas accent. "You have to go." he said, "We will need you to interpret for us."

The Weekend and a Jesse Story

We had a good weekend. Friday was such a pretty day that when Toby got home from work, we loaded up the kayak and the bicycles and headed to the lake. Jesse paddled first while Toby and I rode our bikes around the trails. Toby paddled next while I sat and read my book, and Jesse rode my bike. My bike is nearly 20 years old, but it is a great bike. Back when "mountain bikes" first came out with all the gears and heavier tires and such, a friend of ours bought several to rent to tourist in Red River. At the end of the season, I bought one from him – a green one like my first five-speed bike back in jr. high. This mountain bike has been through lots, but it a better bike than the new one I bought Toby a couple of years ago. Finally, I took my turn in the kayak. I have been putting off taking it out. The lake has been pretty chilly, and I did not want to be the first one to turn it over. I did well, and I liked it too. We may be getting a second kayak soon.

On Saturday we drove to Ft. Worth with Bo, Sara, and the Wild Thing. We decided to have lunch at Joe T. Garcias down at the Stockyards. It was wonderful, but I should have had a margarita or maybe a Tecate to be like the natives. There was a large Hispanic family eating near us with lots of kids and lots of noise. I wanted to move over to their table. I should have had a bigger family. We did not get to shop the Stockyard stores which was a disappointment, but the baby needed a nap. The car show turned out to be at a racetrack in Crescent, and there was a $10.00 a head charge to just walk around and see the cars. At this point we split up with the men staying to see the car show and the women going to Granbury to shop. Shopping with the Wild Thing was, well, wild. I was worn out, hot and tired by the time the boys called us to come and pick them up. I really needed that margarita now, but I settled for strawberry ice cream.

While shopping, I saw a drinking glass with the USAF logo on it. I started to buy it for Jesse, because it reminded me of a funny story about her. Back in December at the time of Dad’s funeral, there was lots of family in WF. Toby and I rented a hotel room, but Jesse chose to go stay out at Sheppard Air Force Base with my uncle and cousins. Apparently, the base has wonderful, cheap lodging. Since Jesse loves anything to do with planes, she chose the Base. Also, my cousins are lots of fun. I’m sure that the thought of seeing young, handsome airmen had nothing to do with her decision. The condo that housed my cousins was very nice. The rooms had the USAF logo on all sorts of things from pens, pads, trashcans, etc. One morning, Jesse called down to the lodging office. She gave her name and room number and asked the young man at the desk, "How much are your trashcans?" She wanted to buy a trashcan with the USAF logo on it. Most people would have stolen it, but Jesse is too honest for that. The young man at the desk was stumped – confused to say the least. He said he did not know what they cost. Jesse was persistent. He eventually came up with a price - $16.95. Jesse thought this over, and told him that was too much for a trashcan – thank you very much and good-bye. My cousins were aghast, but rolling on the floor. Before they checked out, they gathered up all of the pens and paper (free-bees) and gave them to Jesse. She was pleased.

Slow Day

It has been a slow day on the computer - rather frustrating. Instead of making myself crazy waiting around on a computer, I chose to paint today. It made for a nice day. Tomorrow, the whole fam damly is going to a car show. It is a locost car show - homemade cars. Yeha! Someone better throw in a little shopping to keep the women folk happy.

Immigration

Here are some thoughts on immigration. I still have not saved the world or solved any problems, but it is just my thoughts:

When I first started teaching down on the border, I can remember a law being passed in Texas that we had to teach illegal immigrants – they had a right to an education. I remember thinking, "Wait a minute! If they are illegal and we know it, why are they still here?" It did not make much sense to me then and still does not, but it does not really bother me much either. I figured that if a kid wanted an education, I would give it to him. If a kid does not want an education, I think he should be cut loose. But no, we force them to attend class and disrupt the students wanting an education, watering down our curriculums so that they can pass…Oops! That is my education soapbox. Hmm, maybe if we kicked out the kids who were not interested in getting an education, took away their welfare and unemployment, there would be enough workers for the low-level jobs, and we would not need the immigrants. Gosh, if we could just force them to work like we force them to go to school, it would kill two birds with one stone – improves the education system and does away with our need for illegal aliens in the work force. I bet it would do wonders for our welfare system too.

So what about the illegal alien who is here, working, productive in the community, and not a leach on society? I feel toward these people much as I do for the illegal alien who wants an education – they don’t bother me. I know a few people who fit this description – actually, I have never asked for their green card so I don’t know if the are illegal or not. I do know how hard they work, how pleasant they are, and how loyal they are. These people are not leaches on society. They are not on welfare. Probably, they even have taxes held out of their paychecks, and yet do not receive any benefits of our social security system or other freeloader programs. They may not have a driver’s license or insurance only because they cannot get those things for fear of being sent back to Mexico. It just seems there could be better laws for these people to be here contributing to our workforce. If they are not working, not productive, or being criminals (other than just being here), and a menace to society, they need to go. Too bad we cannot get rid of our own citizens who fit that description. No, instead we feed them and clothe them and pay them not to work. We force education on them with silly laws about staying in school even though you have serious criminal records…Oops! Wrong soapbox again.

Having lived on the Texas-Mexico border, I can tell you that it is difficult to tell the illegal aliens from the US citizens. Just because someone does not speak English or "English as a first language" does not make him illegal. By the way, English is not the official language of the USA. So yes, our government does spend money to print documents, voting ballots, and such in other languages. Many of my Mexican students worked harder at learning English than my legal students did. The legals have been here for generations, they know the system, and they know they can get along without learning English (there is that other soapbox again).

I also know that much has changed since I lived down on the border. There does need to be tighter control on the border. It has always been way too easy for people to enter the US. For the safety of all Americans this needs to be dealt with now. Who knows who is coming in to our country? Border gangs are a big problem. Property is stolen or destroyed, and there has been many kidnappings along the border (sounds like terrorism). It seems to me that we should be way more concerned with our southern neighbors than we have been. We should have lots more control rather than throwing money at problems that are not improving. Why we send our men to fight across the ocean when our own backyard is in trouble, I don’t understand. When living on the border, I often thought that for a big powerful country like the USA, we sure did not have much pull South of the Border. Why is that?

My husband said a few things that were interesting. He said the immigration problems reminded him of Prohibition days – that we had created an illegal market causing lots of riff-raff and other problems in our country. He also used the word "order" several times while speaking of the immigration problem. That makes sense. We need order brought to our borders. Existing laws need to be enforced. Property and people need to be protected. People who want to work and be good citizens should be able to do so. Also reading back through my thoughts, it seems that our welfare system and our education system are bigger problems than immigration. We got a lot to fix.

Boo Boo

For some reason my computer has been giving me a hard time. Yesterday I tried to comment on some of the blogs I read only to be bumped off line as soon as I hit the "publish" button. It was a bit frustrating. My computer has also been extremely slow. I don't know if it is the computer or the connection. Because I have had a busy week, I have just not had time to deal with it.

Yesterday, I went to Ada with my daughter-in-law and grandbaby. I took care of the wild one while her mother had an appointment. I introduced the baby to a water fountain. You would have thought she had found the greatest toy in the world. After a while, holding her up so that she could get a drink (hold her face in the water) became tiring. Who would think one so small could be so fast or could open a heavy glass door by herself? I took a big dog nap when I got home - I don't know about the baby, but I was worn out. Later in the evening, Toby and I had to do a quick trip to town. It turns out that the grandbaby's favorite stuffed animal went missing. I found it in my yard - one of my handy dogs probably got it and hid it. It did give us a great excuse to see the baby again and play with her some more. This time I let her grand-dad chase her while I just watched and laughed. This grandbaby stuff is good. By the way, she calls me Boo Boo or Boop Boo (hard to tell for sure). Not the name I would have chosen, but when she says it with her French accent (where did that come from?) she is just pretty cute.

I have been working on a post about immigration, but it has been difficult to get all my thoughts in order. Maybe "order" is the key word to the whole problem. I will have to think on it more, and I just don't seem to have time to solve the world's problems this week.

Synopsis

Because I have confused some readers with my interesting life, I thought I would give a brief synopsis. My dad was a teacher/administrator. We lived in several small towns in North Texas, but always spent our summers in RR where we had built a cabin and later owned a lodge. After finishing high school in Wichita Falls, I went to college at TT where I met my husband. We were married in Red River in 1977. We moved to San Marcos, TX, where my husband finished college and then got a job in Dallas. From Dallas we moved to Vernon (I managed to finish college at MSU during this time) and then across the state to McAllen.

In 1986 we were able to fulfill a dream and move back to RR and open a café called Jalapeno Pete’s. The café was Tex-Mex. I make great enchiladas (red sauce). Having lived in South Texas, we were serving fajitas before anyone in NM knew what they were (and they were good). Eventually, we sold the café, and I went back to teaching in Questa while Toby went to work for the area trash company. We moved to Taos one year since Toby’s office was in Taos – I taught at the jr. high. We hated living in the big city, so we bought a small cabin on a couple of acres north of Questa on the mountain side of the valley called El Rito (This is not the El Rito that is closer to Albuquerque). At this point, we chose to homeschool our kids. I was able to stay home and teach and work on our home. We leased some land (35 acres) and had horses and cattle.

We were able to fulfill another dream – living on and working a large ranch - when we moved to OK, where we bought a section of land. That was good for several years, but eventually, Toby had to get a real job to support our cattle habit leaving Jesse and I to be serious ranch-hands. We sold our big ranch and moved to a smaller one. Still, the work required was more than the three of us wanted. Bo had finished college and married; therefore, he was not around much to help. Last year we gave up the ranching business and bought 75 acres and built a small house on the land (You can go back and read posts from that time). We still have horses, dogs, and cats (five kittens if anyone needs one), but we will not be farming (growing wheat) anymore. Later when the fences are all built up, we will run a few head of cattle. OK is a great place. I think we will be here for a while.

More Art

The watercolor workshop that I am attending went well yesterday. The instructor is very knowledgeable, and he has a sense of humor. I think this will be a good class. Yesterday I cranked out a decent watercolor and was pretty pleased. Maybe I can bring home some good art info for my students. Here is a picture done by one of my students, Reagan. She has done quite well in the Youth Gallery of one our local art shows. With students like this, it is not hard to teach.

Workshop

Today I am headed to a watercolor workshop in Duncan with a man named Kountoupis. I know nothing about him, but I am excited to be taking a class. He is suppose to use large, broad strokes - kind of loose. That is what I need. I really love watercolor although it is not my best medium. It is good to get a refressher course and encouragement. My buddy Trixie will be there, and we will act like junior high students giving the instructor a hard time, laughing, making fun of everyone - it will be great fun. Last night, I packed all my art paraphernalia - easel, paint, paper, brushes,etc. - like a mother with a baby and all the baby gear. I will let you know how it goes.

Art Work

This is a picture that Jesse did in pastels. She drew it from an old photo of my Great Aung Lois, who was quite the adventuress. It is a 16x20. The top picture is one of mine - also pastel - done from a photo I took of a local bullrider (16x20)

Tailhook T-shirt

I took this picture of Jesse last spring wearing my Las Vegas souvenir. It says, "Don't try to lay no boogie woogie on the king of rock and roll". It is a picture of a Navy pilot

A Story for Buck

When Buck mentioned "The Bridges of Toko-ri", it made me think of a funny story. This is rather long. I told the long version just to get to a silly punchline. Keep in mind that this took place almost twenty years ago - a different time and era of my life.

In September of 1987 I was 29 years old (you do the math) and we were living in NM. My friend, Janetta was asked by the RR Ski Area to attend a ski show in Las Vegas which meant setting up a booth and passing out brochures pushing the Red River Ski Area. Janetta asked me and two other girls to go with her. It had been a long summer of working in our cafe; of course, I wanted to go. None of us had ever been to LV. Excitement was high.

Janetta, Joy, and Jodie were the other girls on the trip and my close friends. Jodie was the only single lady in the group. Joy and Janetta were like me – young, married with kids. Before we left, several people told me to "watch Janetta on her gambling". This did not give me an easy feeling. It also made me feel like I was the only one with any common sense in the group. It turns out that Janetta did not have a gambling problem. In fact, she was about the luckiest person I know. She mostly played the slots, and won! The problem, that no one warned me about, was her shopping habits. We probably went into every mall/shopping area in every casino in LV. Janetta shopped like a wild woman just grabbing things off the shelf and buying them. We each carried two bags home for Janetta on the return flight full of stuff she had bought. Her other funny habit was in tipping people. She tipped everyone from the maid who cleaned our room to the man who made our show reservations. It was wild, but we did get extra attention and a lot of good laughs at her.

My friend Joy was one of those girls who was always "cute", but with each child she birthed, she got more beautiful – and she had three kids. She was a little tiny thing with big boobs. She looked like the actress on "First Knight". Being from Ft. Worth, she had this slow Southern twang in a little tiny voice. She looked so young, that she got carded in every casino making the rest of us feel like oafs.

Jodie – well how do you describe Jodie? Jodie came to RR years earlier with Tom Brown. For those of you who know Tom, well, you know Jodie. She lived with several men during the years I knew her, but never married. She was a sexy redhead who just liked to have fun. I really liked her, but have lost track of her in recent years.

We stayed at the Tropicana and had a blast. By day we worked the ski show, and at night we hit the town. We managed to find time to sunbathe around the beautiful pool area. None of us were big gamblers. Mostly we went in and out of casino’s checking out the sights. We would eat some wonderful meal and then see a show. We would not get back to the hotelroom until the wee hours of the morning. Being a morning person, I could not break my habit of getting up early. Usually, I was the first up, and I would go down to find coffee and play the poker machines and watch the interesting people of LV while waiting on the girls. We did this for five days, which was three days too long – very hard on a body.

One of our first nights there, we went to Bali’s and saw George Carlin. The opening act was Paul Revere and the Raiders. Janetta tipped the maitre d’ so well, that we sat front and center – great seats. Afterwards, we went to some dance club. It was here that we discovered the Navy Tailhook convention was in Vegas too. It seemed that every guy we danced with was either in the Navy or a Marine. At one point some civilian guy was bothering Jodie. She hollered, "Where is the Navy when you need them." We were never alone or lacking for company after that. And the truth is we rarely saw Jodie after that.

The next night was similar to the first. Although, this time, we saw Siegfried and Roy. We sat so close to the stage, I could have pulled the tiger’s tail – thanks to Janetta’s tipping. Later at the dance club, we met a group of Navy pilots and their skipper. They were great fun. They took us to the Hilton and the big party for the Tailhook convention. The whole third floor of the Hilton was a party. We gathered in a room without any furniture other than a bar. There were pictures on the walls and movies playing of Navy ships, planes, bombs, etc. It was great. I was impressed. Our Navy buddies pointed out important people – Admiral So-and-so, the head of Top Gun, the Admiral’s wife…and of course, they explained the pictures, movies, and I am sure lied to us about all sorts of things. No one groped or grabbed us – all were gentlemen. There was one funny incident. While walking down the hall on the third floor of the Hilton, a group of young men stopped me and began singing to me (picture Tom Cruise in Top Gun). Then they pulled my fancy cowboy boot off and poured some sort of liquor down my leg and drank. It was really quite funny and harmless. I don’t remember what they sang; I just remember saying, "Not the boot!" fearing they would ruin my cowboy boot. I don’t know why they chose me. Throughout our time in LV, it was Joy that got most of the attention. Those Navy boys just flocked around her. She would just smile and chat with her cute little Southern accent. It made it difficult to get anywhere, because we constantly had to get her out of swarm of guys.

One other thing that was sort of funny/odd – Several times, I had trouble communicating. If I ordered a bake potato, I was brought mashed potatoes. If I ordered a steak medium rare, it came medium well. There were just many little incidents like this. Maybe my twang was difficult for people in Vegas to understand or maybe they just ignored what I said and went by what they thought I said. Who knows, but it got to be a big joke with the girls.

On our last day in LV, we had some time to kill before catching our plane home. Janetta wanted to go to the new LV mall for some more shopping. I spent most of the time in the mall bookstore. We caught our plane home after I had another misunderstanding with the sky-cab man. This misunderstanding was pretty serious, and he yelled at me over nothing. After five days in LV, I was just too tired to whip him, but the thought was there, and he certainly deserved a thrashing. For some reason we had a two-hour layover in Phoenix. We just sat around a table drinking cokes and staring into space. We started talking about funny things that had happen to us while in LV. I said, " You know what? While we were in that bookstore at the mall, I asked the clerk if she had the book 'The Bridges of Toko-Ri'. She said she did. I was really excited because I have been looking for that book for ages. But she took me back and showed me a book on how to win at bridge." Being so tired, the girls really laughed at my story. Then Joy, in her little voice said, " Did you buy it?" I looked at her oddly and said, "Of course I did not buy it!" Joy said, "Janetta would have bought it and tipped her too!" We all laughed with tears running down our cheeks. It was the perfect ending to our trip.

All Fixed

Doctor Ernie got my computer back to me today. He said it had some serious problems, but that it was all fixed now. It is amazing how much I miss my computer when it is gone or I am gone. It does say something about my life.

I had a great time in WF the other night. Harbor Freight, Sam's Club, and dinner at Johnny Carrinos made for a great evening. Jesse had some girlfriends spend the night. Saturday morning we took Jesse and Kat to IHOP in Lawton for breakfast. We hit a few craft stores and a few motorcycle shops (a little give and take for the hubby). The wind was horrible all day long - in fact, it has hardly let up in days. "Riding the fence" has taken on new meaning. Now you no longer look for broken fence to mend, but you look for trash and household appliances that have been blown across the pasture and up to the fence.

We did take the kayak out on Duncan Lake Sunday afternoon. Sure enough, the wind kicked up while we were there. Jesse said it made her a little sea sick. Toby said the waves were breaking over the front of the kayak. I was sick just standing on the floating docks and chose not to get out on the water. Toby and I did get a little hiking in while we waited on Jesse. The lake has a frisbee golf course. We walked the course, which was a little rough in places, but a nice hike. I will blog more later. I need to catch up on my blog reading too.

I am headed to town today to do my errands, which includes a trip to Wal Mart to play the "honey game." Years ago, Toby called his nephew’s house, and his five year-old great-niece answered the phone. When Toby asked her where her father was, she said (in her slow West Texas twang) "He’s at Wal Mart playing the honey game." We could only guess at what that meant, but it sounded great. I will probably make a trip to the used bookstore, the storage unit, have lunch with my honey, and get my hair cut. Later this evening we may make a trip to Wichita Falls. Harbor Freight is calling our name. Maybe I will get a dinner out :)

Oh yeah, I am also taking my computer in to Dr. Ernie. He will check it for viruses, give it some new immunity shots, clean up its cookie mess, and just make it run faster and leap higher. I might be able to do all of that myself, but it would take way too long. Ernie has DSL. He takes good care of us. I probably won’t be online this weekend until I get the puter back. If my grandbaby is in town tomorrow, I will have to make a trip in to see her, and get the computer while I am at it.

The wind was wild yesterday. My TV is still not working – oh well. I started a new Baldacci book. I also got a commission of sorts for some art work. I am working to post some pictures of my art work and the art work of my students (maybe after I get the computer doctored), Who needs TV? I guess I had better go save the world. Have a good weekend.

Rick Rescorla Memorial

As many of you know, my Uncle Bob fought in the Ia Drang Valley in 1965. He sent this forward of Joe Galloway's column. I assume it is okay for me to paste it on here and share it with you. Although I have been to a couple of Ia Drang vet. reunions, I did not get to meet Rick Rescorla. That is something I truly regret because he is definitely one of my heroes. Most all soldiers who have sacrificed and served their country are my heroes including todays young soldiers.

This column is easy to forward to all of you. A tribute to Rick Rescorla... a soldier's soldier. Read on. RLB

KRT COLUMN 152(04/05/06)By Joseph L. GallowayKnight Ridder NewspapersFORT BENNING, Ga. _ The word “hero” has been so debased and over-used in our modern society that it is almost meaningless when applied to the real thing.This past week, here at the U.S. Army home of the Infantry, several hundred people gathered for the dedication of a larger-than-life bronze statue of a real American hero named Rick Rescorla. The statue is iconic: the young Infantry 2nd lieutenant platoon leader leading the way in combat, his M-16 rifle with bayonet attached ready for use. It is based largely on the photograph on the cover of the book “We Were Soldiers Once . . . and Young,” written by Lt. Gen. Hal Moore and me, which tells the story of the deadly battles in the Ia Drang Valley in the dawn of the Vietnam War. Rescorla was a hero of the battles of Landing Zone X-Ray and Landing Zone Albany. He earned a Silver Star, the third highest military medal for heroism, for his sterling leadership of a platoon of Bravo Company 2nd Battalion 7th U.S. Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) in those battles in November of 1965.But that statue in the home and headquarters and training ground for the mud-foot Infantry was the result of unvarnished heroism long after the British-born Rescorla left the Army, became an American citizen and retired from the Army Reserve with the rank of colonel.The statue of the young Rescorla was born out of what he did as an older, heavier civilian vice president for security for Morgan Stanley in New York City. The brokerage firm occupied 22 floors of the south tower in the World Trade Center.Ever since the failed terrorist truck bombing in 1993 in the basement of that building, Rescorla was convinced that the terrorists would come back to finish the job. He urged Morgan Stanley to build its own low-rise high-security headquarters across the river in New Jersey where most of its employees lived. Not possible, he was told, because the firm had a long-term lease on those 22 floors.Rescorla fought for the time and money needed for half a dozen surprise full evacuation drills each year. And, yes, he knew how much it cost to pull a couple thousand stockbrokers off their telephones. He knew and didn’t care.On September 11, 2001, Rescorla stood at the window of his office on the 66th floor and watched the tower across the way burn. The Port Authority Police squawk box on the wall urged everyone in the other buildings of the Trade Center to remain at their desks and not panic. You are safe, the reassuring voice said. Rescorla responded with a curt word: “Bull----!” He grabbed his bullhorn and moved floor by floor ordering Morgan Stanley's 2,700 workers to evacuate immediately. They knew where to go and how to do that, thanks to Rick. Two by two, the old buddy system, they began the long walk down the stairs to the street.Halfway down the second hijacked airliner plowed into their building. The building shook and swayed to the impact. Smoke began filling the stairwells. People were frightened. Rick Rescorla used his bullhorn again. This time he sang to the evacuees, just as he sang to his soldiers on a long night in Vietnam. He sang “God Bless America.” He sang the songs of the British Army in the Zulu Wars. He sang the old Welsh miner songs.He got them all out and headed for safety down the streets away from the World Trade Center. Four of his own security people were still up clearing the Morgan Stanley floors so Rick Rescorla turned and headed back up the stairs with New York City firemen. None of them made it out alive and neither did Rick Rescorla.His widow, Susan, spearheaded the drive to raise $100,000 to create that bronze image of her hero and ours. Eventually it will occupy a spot on the Walk of Heroes in a new $76 million Infantry Museum being built at the gates of Fort Benning.More than 500 people turned out to see it unveiled outside the Infantry Museum on the old Army post. Among them were plenty of other real American heroes. There were three recipients of the Medal of Honor for heroism above and beyond the call of duty. Scores of veterans of America’s wars of the past half-century and more. Also, Gen. Moore and his sidekick Sgt. Maj. Basil L. Plumley. As I sat there looking at the statue of Rick my mind carried me back 40 years to that terrible November in Vietnam and the words of the young Rescorla as he and his battle-weary soldiers strode into the surrounded position at LZ Albany to rescue their decimated battalion: “Good, Good, Good! I hope they hit us with everything they got tonight _ we’ll wipe them up.”You want a definition of the word hero? In my dictionary it says simply: Rick Rescorla.

Dish News

OK is greening up. The pasture is turning green, the trees are budding out, and we had our first tornado watch/warning - a sure sign of spring. The TV Dish man came yesterday. We have not been able to get a signal on our Dish since it blew over a couple of weeks ago. The Dish-man got the TV working fairly quickly and even said he did not know why we didn't just do it ourselves. It turns out the "box was locked up". Still, he was a bit arrogant about his Dish knowledge. I believed him. I did not check his work. Later that evening when Toby came home, he started flipping through the channels. It turns out that we are not getting the local channels. So, fifty bucks later, the Dish is still not working well. I guess, I will keep reading my news and my novels.

Alien Thoughts

With all of the talk on immigration laws, I thought I would share some of my thoughts. My first teaching job was at Mission High School in Mission, TX, down on the Rio Grande border. The school courtyards had large fences with razor wire around the top – something I had never seen growing up in North Texas. It was not to keep kids in, but it was to keep thieves out. Electronic smuggling was big business back then. Although Mission was not a large town, the high school had over 1000 freshmen students and there were many high schools much larger all along the border from Mission to Brownsville. It is a huge Hispanic population. Teaching there was an eye-opening experience.

At the beginning of each year, my classes would not be full. By October or November, they were full – I taught about 150 kids and was one of nine freshmen English teachers. Around April, the class size would start diminishing as kids checked out of school. These were migrant worker families who pulled their kids in and out of schools as they traveled to work. The schools provide ways for the students to get around laws that say they must attend class for so many days a year in order to pass. The term "migrant worker" does not refer to illegal immigrants. Migrant workers are US citizens who migrate around the country to work. They do not have to migrate very far to be considered migrant workers and eligible for all sorts of government benefits. There are all sorts of special programs, special teachers, and migrant counselors for migrant children. Out of my 150 students, probably 130 were considered migrants.

Another interesting thing about the border schools is the ESOL programs – bilingual education, which is big bucks for school systems if they have students who qualify as bilingual. Once again, out of the 150 students, about 130 of mine had been in ESOL programs at one time meaning that they did not speak English well enough to go into a regular classroom when they started school. All of my students had tested out of the ESOL program in order to be in regular class. In other words, the majority of students at MHS did not speak English at one time. Keep in mind that these were not illegal aliens, but they were US citizens from generations of living on the US side of the border. Does that mean they spoke great English or thought in English? Not necessarily. Most of my students spoke English very well, but school (in the classroom) was the only place they spoke English. I wondered how many of them would retain their English or pass it on to their children someday to break the cycle of needing bilingual education.

Since I am speaking about bilingual education, I want to mention that I also taught in Northern NM schools that were predominately Hispanic. When my students in Questa were asked if they spoke Spanish at home, only one said yes. The rest of my students did not speak much more Spanish than I did – which was not much. It meant you might be able to understand a little of what your grandmother was saying, but not speak back to her in Spanish. Even though my students did not speak Spanish, they still received bilingual money from the government. Bilingual money was used to teach the kids about their Spanish heritage and culture. No kidding! There was actually no real bilingual program. At one point, I had a student from Mexico who needed bilingual education. He got thrown into regular classes – sink or swim. He swam, because he wanted to learn and succeed in America, and he knew what the alternative was. Schools in Nothern NM did not get migrant money, but they got Indian money (that is a whole other can of worms).

One more interesting note – besides this one kid from Mexico in the Questa ISD, I had other kids from Mexico while teaching in Mission. I never asked for their papers, so I do not know if they were legal or not. They were good students. They worked hard and were enjoyable. A friend, a Mexican National who had a home near us (his vacation home), asked me to speak English to his kids. He said they must learn English in order to succeed.

My opinion: I would hate to just send all illegal aliens packing. Too many are established and working hard to support their families and be productive in our communities, which is more than some US citizens are doing. To give all illegals citizenship across the board is probably not good either. Apparently, there are those who are not productive. Hmm, maybe we could just send all our unproductive people south of the border. Or maybe we could do like New Orleans and just spread them out over the whole USA.

Back on Track

Last Thursday my phone went dead. This, of course, effected my computer use. Toby tried to call in the problem from his office. The AT&T worker asked for my SSN since the phone is in my name. Toby could not remember my SSN; therefore, he could not report the phone problem. It seemed funny to me that they would not let him report the problem because he was not me. Do you think they get a lot of false reports - people calling in saying someone’s phone is not working just as a prank? When Toby got home from work, he checked the phone lines and determined that the problem was not our lines, but the AT&T lines coming to the house. He had me call AT&T this time. The lady asked me all sorts of questions before we got to the problem, but not one of the questions had to do with my SSN. She did ask me for my 911 address. I told her that I did not have one. I had to repeat this several times for her to understand. Then she said, "Is your 911 address 22985 Stephens County?" I told her that I did live in Stephens County, but I did not know about the rest of the address. At this point she started laughing. I asked her to repeat the address, so I could write it down. She laughed harder. I did not find her so amusing the next day when my phone was still not working as she had promised. Someone called to say it was not my phone lines, but the lines to the box on the highway (duh), and it would take cable work. They assured me they would be working on Saturday – liars. I find that I can live fairly well without my TV, but I miss my computer when it is down. I think I could live without AT&T if I had other internet source.

Also last Thursday, we had our first tornado watch of the season. Of course, I had no computer or TV to watch the weather. Normally, I would not worry, but I had several of my art girls here, and I felt a big responsibility for them. Toby called my cell phone to say there was a tornado watch. I called my neighbor to ask her to report any important weather bulletins. She called back to say the weatherman reported cloud rotations. Sure enough, we all went outside and watched the clouds slowly swirling, which was pretty ominous. None of my girls seemed worried. We really thought the storm would miss us, and it did. Such is life in Tornado Alley.

It is good to be back online. Maybe this week we can get the TV working again, but I can live without it. I have several books to read anyway.