Gad Abouts

Okay, I have been off gadding about for the last few days. I don't know what "gadding" is exactly, but my grandmother used the term all of the time so it could not be too bad. After posting my painting of the week early on Thursday, Toby and I took off to The City. It has been raining (understatement) for days. Thursday was spent mostly with the Grand Babies. Their mother and I took them to the mall to let GBN1 run off some energy in the small children's play area.

Later that afternoon, I had an appointment with the VA hospital volunteer coordinator. The VA was a big of a disappointment, because I thought I was going to get to see the place and maybe visit with soldiers. Instead, I just met with the coordinator. He was very nice and told me how much Soldiers' Angels was appreciated, and that he would love for me to come visit the vets some time, but he did not offer to take me around on Thursday. Maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe next time...

Toby had a CPE class on the OSU campus in OK City. I picked him up after my VA visit, and we went to celebrate our anniversary. We went to a place called Tim's Wine Bar & Trattoria on N. Western and 58th. It was a really funky old building with some bad, but interesting art. It had a great wine and beer list and some good people watching. We had wine, calamari, pizza, tortellini with Marsala sauce, tiramisu, and coffee. All was delicious, but the tiramisu was heavenly. After a great dinner, we waddled out into the rain and headed back to pick up GBN1 and go home. We had planned on spending the night, but there seemed to be lots of no vacancies. Home seemed easier.

Friday, we had GBN1 all day. We went to Mickey D's for breakfast and some time on the playground. We ran some errands and came back to the house for a nap (grandparents need their naps). The sun actually came out in the late afternoon, so we were able to wade to the barn to play. The parents did not come and get GBN1 until about 8:00 PM. The grandparents were bushed.

It was raining this morning when we got up, so we took off to Wichita Falls to see Mom. Mom was doing well. The sun came out, and it got plum steamy in The Falls. You should see the Red River! It is running like white water (only it's red). Usually on a Saturday there are all sorts of four wheelers buzzing across the sand dunes around the river. This Saturday they needed jet skis - it was full and overflowing. The Wichita Falls Times and Record News had pictures of flooded areas around WF - pretty serious flooding in my old neighborhood of Tanglewood which was down by the Little Wichita River.

We got back to the Lazy B in time for Toby to fire up his motorcycle and "gad about". He came into the room a few minutes ago and crooked his finger for me to follow him. Out in the carport buried up in his tools is one of the barn cats with four new kittens. I thought it was a male cat(wishful thinking) but I had never been to close. I doubt Toby was pleased, but they sure are cute.

I have some more stuff, but I better go tend to my man.

Painting of the Week

This started off as a pastel on black paper similar to the technique that I used before, but then it was not working well - so I colored the background. I have been reading another art blog and thought I would try her technique. I did not do so well, but this is what I have to show. I think it needs more work - maybe a better background. I used Mi-Teinetes paper, and I really dislike it. Jo Castillo uses it and does very well. You can see that I am struggling with it. I tried painting turpentine to smooth the pastel background. It worked somewhat, but still not like I wanted. Also, the camera shows all sorts of little problems; hmm, just needs more work.

I am headed to The City today to see the grandbabies, visit the VA, and have an anniversary dinner with Toby. This will be my first visit to the VA and I am really excited about it. We will be back Friday and I will tell you all about it.

Wedding Rings

Thirty years ago today, my dad woke me up by bringing me my coffee and sitting on my bed. We had one of those father-daughter talks. He told me he was not happy about my getting married, but he would get over it and we would have a good wedding - something to that effect. And that is what we did - Toby and I got married at 3:00 PM on June 27th at the Community House in Red River, NM. From there we walked down the street to the Mother Lode and had my reception (the party of the year). It wasn’t long into the summer that Dad and Toby got to know each other while doing carpenter work on the cabin. They eventually became good friends. Years later, Dad told me that I had done well - that he could not have picked a better husband for me - after all didn’t he raise me right?

The day before our wedding, things were busy in our little cabin. There was lots to be done and thing to pick up in Taos for the wedding. My brother, Craig, was making a trip to Taos to pick up several things like flowers, cake, etc. On his way back from Taos, he was suppose to stop in Questa and pick up our wedding rings from a friend who was making the rings. I don’t remember the girl’s name who made our rings. She worked at TR’s and said she could make the rings cheaply and we could design them ourselves. All sorts of things went wrong - wrong material came in, the wrong silver, wrong diamond, and at the last minute, she had to just make something for us. So, on the eve of our wedding, I was a little excited to see what my ring was going to look like. I followed Craig around all morning reminding him to stop and get the rings. Every time he turned around, I was standing behind him saying “Don’t forget my rings.” As big brothers usually do when being pestered by a little sister, he got mad. He finally turned and yelled, “Do you think I am some kind of idiot? Do you think I would forget your rings?” I hung my head in shame and said that I did not think he was an idiot and, of course, he would get my rings, and I did not say another word. Late that afternoon when he returned from Taos, I couldn’t contain my excitement as he unloaded wedding stuff. “Let’s see the rings!” I squealed. I will always remember the look on Craig’s face . He said, “I am an idiot.” He had forgotten to pick up my rings. I did not say anything to him knowing how he must feel - what could I say - I knew it would all work out. He drove back to Questa the next morning and picked up my rings. Both rings were a plain silver band with twisted braids edging the flat band. My ring had a quarter carat diamond setting in a rather tall prong. I thought my ring was perfect. Although the girl had said she would change our rings later, we never changed them.

Ten years later, Toby gave me his mother’s wedding rings - the ones his father had given her. They are gorgeous and I feel honored to wear them. I had my little ring made into a special ring for Toby. Sometimes, I miss that simple band with its one little diamond. It was me.

On my ring finger is Toby's mom's ring. Next, is the ring I had made for Toby using my diamond and band sometime around our 15th anniversary. On my pointer finger is Toby's original simple band. Mine looked just like his, except it had a diamond on a white gold prong.

Family Secrets

Back in May before my family reunion, I did some research into my Dad’s side of the family. His parents were Lou Ella Morgan and Fred W. Barker. We can trace Lou Ella’s family back to the Revolutionary War, and I am a DAR member to prove it. Fred, though, is a bit of a problem. When he died in 1955, his discharge papers from the US Army were found in order for my grandmother to get his pension. The problem was that his name on the discharge papers was Fred W. Bernecker instead of Barker. My grandmother did not want to know why his name was not Barker, and she put the papers away and refused to discuss it.

We know very little about my grandfather. We know he was born in Longwood, Florida, and lived in North Carolina At some point, he moved to Chicago where he was drafted into WWI. After the war, he ended up in Wichita Falls where he met and married my grandmother, Lou Ella. He was a chef/caterer and man of many talents. My mother said he was a handsome little man at 5’ 6” (my grandmother was 5’11”), and that he could be quite charming. He was a boxer and told stories about fighting someone very famous, but I cannot remember the boxer’s name. In 1952 he wrote a letter to the President of the US in order to get my father out of the military. I have letters from the Secretary of the President, William D. Hassett on White House Stationary and a letter from WM E. Bergin, Major General, USA, Adjutant General forwarding his letter to FT. Bragg where my father was honorably discharged due to hardship. We assume my grandfather knew someone high up the ladder to pull that off.

Here is what I found while researching my grandfather. Through Ancestry.com I keyed Fred W. Bernecker into the WWI military records. I came up with his draft card from 1917. His name was Fred W. Bernecker at that time. He was 30 years old, born Dec. 6 1986 in Longwood, FL. It lists his occupation as Butcher at the Sherman House on Randolf and Clark St. in Chicago, IL. Under “previous military” it says he was in the Appalchian Navy for 3 years. The word “Appalachian” is difficult to read, but I am pretty sure that is what it says. The only other thing interesting about the card is that under dependants listed is “child”, but who knows what that means.

Continuing to use Ancestry.com, I keyed “Fred W. Bernecker” into the regular search program. In the 1900 Census there was a family of Berneckers in Ashville, NC that could be my grandfather’s family. The parents were Julius (1847) and Frances (1852) who migrated to the USA in 1882 from Germany. They had Freda (21), Paul (20), Anna (18), all born in Germany, Henry (17), Fred (14), Clara (12) born in Florida, Amelia (8), and Bertha (6) born in NC. It lists the father, Julius, as a carpenter.

In the 1910 Census in Ashville, NC, the Berneckers are still there, but now it is only Julius (carpenter), Freda (dressmaker), Clara, Anna (bookkeeper), Bertha and someone named Lillie Lavine listed as a border. Apparently, Frances has died and some of the children no longer live at home.

In the 1930 Census still in Ashville, is Julius (83), Bertha and Freda listed in the same household. I did find a Clara Bernecker in Savanah, GA, as a governess. I found a Henry Bernecker in Charleston, WV, who was a printer and had served in WWI. Also there was a Paul M. Bernecker in Chatham, GA, who was a printer and also served in WWI. Whether these are the same children of Julius and Frances, I do not know for sure, but their info seems to be similar.

I also found the death records of Bertha Bernecker who was born in 1893 and died in 1973 in Ashville, NC. She never married.

I think this could be my grandfather’s family. I think he was born Fred W. Bernecker and changed his name to Barker sometime after leaving the military in 1919 and marrying my grandmother in the early 20’s. The “why” is the big question. I also find it very interesting that he possibly had a whole family on the East Coast and none of us ever knew any of them. What would make a young man leave his family and never look back? I wish I had known the man.

Speaking of...

This morning the local news had a segment about a police officer who had won the “Texas Toughest Police Officer” contest. At one point in the segment, the reporter interviewed the officer’s coworkers. One fellow officer interviewed was Gilbert Lopez. Officer Lopez was obviously Hispanic, but when he began talking, he had a strong Texas accent, which totally threw me for a loop. I guess I was expecting him to have a Spanish accent, and it was just a surprise when he did not. It is funny how we expect certain people to speak in certain ways. While visiting Toby’s mom in Lubbock this weekend, we came across a beautiful, sophisticated looking woman. When the woman opened her mouth to speak, out came the slowest Texas twang possible - you know - where they drag out one syllable words making them multi-syllables and difficult to understand. It is just a big surprise when you are expecting something more sophisticated. Now, I understand that accent does not have anything to do with intelligence, but it just comes as a shock when someone does not speak the way we think they should. I guess this is stereotyping people, but it is done subconsciously and with good nature.

Who am I to speak? I have a big Texas Twang. Having taught school in highly Hispanic areas, I used to get teased about my accent quite a bit. I could just say something as simple as “Turn to the white section of your book” and my students would laugh and mimic the word “white”. When the bilingual coordinator asked me what I was doing to teach the students bilingually, I told her I was teaching them to speak Texan. Unfortunately, the coordinator did not have a sense of humor. Toby talks pretty slow himself being a West Texas boy, as does his family. Toby used to say back in his college days that when he called home, by the time his mother said “hello” his three minutes were up. Once, Toby was on the phone with some company big-wig who made a derogatory remark saying Toby “had certainly not lost his Texas accent". Toby just drawled, “Why thank you.”

Because I live around lots of people with Texas/Okie accents, I don’t normally notice their accents unless they say something really unusual. When Okies drop the L’s and say things like “Hode on” or “It’s code outside” I notice it. When the word “pink” becomes “pie-ink”, I notice it. And when Officer Lopez had a big Texas accent, I noticed it. I remember as a child when accents first came to my notice. One of my friends in NM made fun of the way I said “Barbie dolls” - it was more like “Barbie dials”. Now my speech is laced with NM and South Texas words and accents. I rarely say “ya’ll” and say “you guys” instead. It took me a while to quit saying “arroyo” for a “gully”. I tend to call it a “pour-down” when we get lots of rain. Yesterday, I remarked that the hang-over (eave) was blocking the sun - Toby laughed and teased me on that one saying I had lived in NM too long. It was actually just pay-back for my laughing at him the other day when he said that he did not like the color of the new bathroom rug - he said it did not match the tiles. I told him that I did not buy it to match the tiles. He looked funny for a minute and then said, “I said ‘towels’ - not ‘tiles’. ” I did tease him on that one, but he gets to tease me lots too.

Painting of the Week

Small watercolor painted from a photo taken in Rome

Conversations

Toby and I made a quick trip to Lawton last night to exchange the patio chairs which we bought at Lowes for Father’s Day. We had bought a table and four chairs for our new patio (the one that is not finished due to rain). One of the chairs had a crack in the aluminum and needed to be replaced. The drive to Lawton is only about 45 minutes, and it gives us a nice chance to chat and discuss different topics.

Toby brought up the first topic, “ What would you say to selling our place and buying a nice house in town?” Hmm, the more I thought of this, it just made me mad. I was trying to think rationally, but my brain kept shifting over to the irrational side. There are actually some good arguments for moving to town - price of gas, convenience to Wal-Mart and such, a nice house already built and waiting on us to just move in, smaller yard, no fence maintenance, no large animals to tend, etc. On the other hand, we would have neighbors, where would I put my dogs, neighbors…I tried to focus on the positive. Our house is quite small and there is lots of work to be done around here - a finished house sounds pretty good. Then I got quiet with thoughts running amok in my head. Geeze, we had just finished building a 40’x60’ barn/shop for him. It has been our dream to have land, a nice house, a barn, and animals. I went downhill from there. You mean I left my beautiful home in the mountains with huge windows, Saltillo tile, vigas and latias, holly-hocks, my dream house… so that you could be a cowboy, and by golly you are going to be one! Okay, that was a little below the belt. Okay, chill here. If we sold the land and little house with a huge barn, we could afford a really nice place in town. Neighbors? Fifteen years of life in the country? All of the farm equipment laying around? The barn! Nice house! I had gotten pretty quiet with these thoughts and pretty mad, and I said so. Toby realized this conversation was not going well (understatement). It had sowed seeds of discontent. He apologized and said that he was probably just tired, just wanted everything to be finished, and the rain and mud were making him crazy. I accepted his apology, but now I had to bring my thoughts captive and get back to normal (whatever normal is).

Then Toby brought up the next topic of conversation. “I read your brother’s comments on your blog - how he thinks we have such a great marriage…” I replied that Craig does not seem to have many friends who have been married for very long - all have been divorced. We were approaching Lawton by this time. He took the Cache Rd. exit instead of Lee Rd. I mentioned how I really thought Cache Rd. was faster and that I appreciated him taking it. I really hate Lee Rd with all its red-lights and poor business districts. Then I asked Toby what he thought of Craig's thinking our marriage was so great. He said, “Well, I would have agreed until you started telling me how to drive.” I burst out laughing. You would probably have to know Toby and know that he was making fun of me. After 30 years, I know the man well. He can still make me so angry I could spit and then turn around and make me laugh. He continued to entertain me the rest of the evening with dinner at Chilies. The man is always a fun date.

Farm Kids

Playing around the Lazy B with GBN1 reminded me of my younger days when my parents would send me and my brother, Craig, to stay with our Aunt Mildred and Uncle Jack in Chillicothe, TX. Actually, this is our great aunt and uncle, but Aunt Mildred was only seven years older than my mom so they were very close. Uncle Jack had been a Seabee in WWII - he could build anything. When he came home from the war, he bought up some farm land around Chillicothe and Farmer’s Valley. His dad and brothers also bought up land making the Phillip’s name well known in the area. Uncle Jack was a very simple man and probably the best farmer in the area. He and Aunt Mildred lived in a small house in Farmer’s Valley which Uncle J made comfy with his building skills. Still, it was like living in a sand pit. Craig and I loved going to their farm. We did all the things farm kids do. We played on the cellar and slid down the metal door. We followed the barn cats until we found where they were hiding their kittens. I can’t tell you all of the places (old sheds and barns) we crawled looking for those cats. We helped Aunt M work in the garden (I’m sure we were helpful as any two little kids can be). Aunt M had a box of toys for us to play with although her own boys were grown, and she did not have grandkids yet. We played in the sand around their house under the shade of the big trees. Uncle Jack would take us for rides on the tractor. Yep, it was one of those open air tractors with a bonnet (umbrella) that would cause people today to freak-out knowing two little kids stood up there while Uncle J plowed his fields. I remember standing in the back of a wheat truck late at night while the combines cut the wheat and came around to pour their wheat into the truck. I remember watching Uncle J with his tractor and plow turn up the sand between the rows of cotton to keep the sand from blowing away to the next county. I also remember Aunt M driving down the dirt road beside Uncle J’s tractor and passing us kids through the car window and onto the tractor - how is that for safety? Yet, I know that neither Aunt M or Uncle J would ever have done anything to harm us - it was just the way farm kids grew up. In the winter time they would take us to feed their cattle on their Red River farm. Craig and I both remember them letting us slide on a frozen pond - they even pulled us around as if we had ice skates. My Great-uncle Elbert often came, too and brought his little dog - he was a great big gentle, man with a tiny little dog that he carried everywhere. It was always fun to visit the farm.

Uncle J and Aunt M eventually built a nice house in town. They had a huge garden that was their yard supplying friends and neighbors with all sorts of produce. Uncle J still farmed, but they had more time to go fishing which was his passion. When I was about 12 years old, I went and stayed at their house in town while Aunt M taught me to sew Barbie clothes. I remember sketching a farm picture while I was there and working in the garden, but it was probably the last time I went to stay with them. By this time, Aunt M had her own grandkids so I was a little less important, but still loved. After I was married, Toby loved going to see my uncle and aunt also. He especially liked Uncle J who took him out to show him the farm riding on two small motorcycles that Uncle J had bought.

Later when Bo was barely four and Jes was just one, we went to see Uncle J and Aunt M. By this time, oil had been found on their land and they were quite wealthy. You would never know it, because nothing really changed around their house or their way of life. Uncle J had to buy a huge new tractor to spend some money and not have to pay so much tax. He was pretty proud of that big tractor with the air-conditioned cab. We took Bo and Jes out to the farm where he was plowing. Of course, he offered to take them in his tractor. Bo bailed out of the car without hesitation. Jes, who was a bit finicky about going to a man - any man other than her daddy, took one look at that tractor and leaped into Uncle J’s arms right about the time I said, “I don’t think she will go with you, Uncle J.” He just laughed and carried her off in his arm, holding Bo’s hand as they walked to the tractor. I can still see them standing up in the cab with Uncle J, grinning from ear to ear. After a few rounds in the field, we had to peel the kids out of the tractor because they did not want to stop.

There is just something wonderful about farms. The horses, cows, dogs, cats, chickens, geese, and farm equipment seem magical to a kid. There is so much to explore. Maybe it is the freedom of playing outside where no one will harm you. GBN1 loves to come to “Booboo and Crew-craw’s house”. She hits the ground running and gets plenty dirty in a matter of minutes. For a long time she would hold her arms across her chest so that no one would hold her hand. Then she realized no one was trying to hold her hand - she was free to run and play. The other day, she chased down the kitten until she caught it. She chased the goose off the patio, and laughed when it chased her back. She played in the sand, looked for the horses, waved at the neighbor's cows, rode on the little tractor, and swung from the swing on the clothesline. She is a third generation farm kid.

Rain

I am very late in posting today. Last night GBN1 spent the night with us. We had a fairly easygoing evening. GBN1 did get filthy dirty in a matter of a few hours of being with me on the farm. It was not really my fault. After all this is a farm, and it has been raining here for about two weeks solid. It was probably my fault that she got her new Clifford the dog overalls so muddy. I should have changed her into "farm clothes" immediately. Oh well. We had a great time blowing bubbles and trying to catch them. You know that stuff is pretty sticky when you spill it on you. And the sand around the patio is just right for making castles. We bathed GBN1 in the bathroom sink (which is really an old kitchen sink). She loves it. Then we bathed Ranger the Rat terrier in the same sink because he was as muddy as GBN1 who got a big kick out of bathing the dog in her bathwater. We made GBN1 a little bed beside our bed - she loves it. Sometime in the night, we had another big thunderstorm - lightning, thunder and lots of rain. Ranger got in GBN1's little bed. The rest of us slept on - too tired to worry about more rain. This morning the water was flowing around the house, down the hill to an already full pond. GBN1 awoke going full throttle and did not stop talking until I took her back to her mother. The I went to Lawton to run some errands.

Toby's mom called to ask me about the rain. Our conversation went something like this:

MN: Is it raining there?

Me: Not at the moment. It is overcast, but not raining.

MN: But has it been raining there?

Me: Yes.

MN: How much?

Me: Lots.

MN: Don't you have a rain gauge?

Me: Nope. Toby does not like them (put it off as his fault since he is her baby boy).

MN: But have you had lots of rain?

Me: Lots.

MN: Well, how much?

Me: Well, it started raining a couple of weeks ago. We got 8 to 10 inches in one weekend. And it has not really stopped raining since. Oh we have moments of sunshine, but then it clouds up and rains again. It rained last night, it rained this morning, it stopped for a few hours, and now it is raining again. Our yard is standing in water, and we live on top of a hill. The goose doesn't need to go down to the pond; she can swim in the yard. The pond has been full and overflowing for a while now. Sometimes it backs up over the barbecue grill down by the pond. Driving up our driveway is like a mud boggin contest. We're thinking about getting a monster truck and hitting the circuit. Pretty soon we will be able to launch the kayaks from the carport rather than taking them down the hill to the pond.

Okay, I made part of that up. I would never get smart with my mother-in-law, but the thoughts did cross my mind.

A sunny moment over the pond - the two trees touching the water are normally about 20 feet from the pond.

Photo Overload

We celebrated Bo's birthday a week late. When he was little, we often celebrated Jesse's and his birthdays together. Sometimes we celebrated my dad's birthday, Adam's (Craig's son), and Patrick's (Pete's son) birthdays (who also have birthdays the first week of June) all together with one big party - yet we would still have individual parties. This was confusing to Bo. First, he could not figure out why he was the oldest, but Jesse's birthday came a week before his. Then, he thought his birthday lasted all week since we had so many parties during the week. Who wouldn't love a party that lasted all week?

So, on Saturday, my brother came over and brought Mom. P&E (Inpassing) came. It was a good group. I fixed two trays of enchiladas (both red and green), Mexican cole-slaw, black beans, a peach pie and some strawberries with pound cake (Sara Lee). We used the new outdoor furniture that Toby got for Father's Day since the day was overcast and cool. We sang "Happy Birthday" to GBN1's great thrill. The nephews enjoyed riding the four-wheeler in the mud. Jesse took lots of pictures for me to share. Everyone got in their baby hugs in on GBN2. GBN1 kept us all entertained. Bo got some nice gifts. It was a good belated birthday.

Bikers

The boys came by on their bikes Sunday afternoon. I picked the first picture because it shows the guys, Jesse in her new biker jacket, my great Dane puppy, and all of the rain we have been getting. The tall biker is Jan (pronounced yon) who is from the Netherlands. Gary is in the yellow jacket - he is a local boy from Lawton. Both work at Halliburton as engineers.

The second picture shows the bikes better - for Buck - so that he will know what they ride.

Wedding Colors

June is the wedding month, and it holds lots of memories for me. This morning seeing Buck's wedding pictures brought back lots of memories. My wedding was a bit unconventional, but not so bad for a 70's wedding. Simple seemed to be "in" as did white suits and tuxes. I had to tease Buck about having the same haircut as his bride. Notice Toby and I have the same haircut, too. I promise that was not something we planned.


In fact, our wedding did not have much planning. I only gave my mom about three weeks notice. Once Toby and I decided to get married, we just wanted to do it with out all of the hoopla - maybe wear jeans and go to the JP. My mother had other ideas - bless her heart. She wanted to make my wedding memorable. She picked out a dress for me in Wichita Falls and brought it to me in Red River. It was perfect. Mom took over the plans - picking out flowers, the cake, etc, making me choose a color (peach) and doing the wedding right. I had called my cousin, Patti, to be my maid of honor. I told her to make a dress - any dress. My mom made me call Patti back and tell her to make the dress peach color. Patti, balked saying she did not like peach - she wanted to make a blue dress. I remember telling her to just do it! Notice in the photo from Thursday, that Patti made a peach color dress. Notice too, that the dress looks like it was purposefully chosen to match my dress - that was a coincidence, and a very nice coincidence. Since very few men wear suits in RR, Toby had his mom bring his corduroy suit when she came for the wedding. My brother, Craig, already had his suit because he was on the debate team at Texas Tech and suits were required - I am glad it was not rumpled. I am glad Craig showed up wearing clothes at all. Three of my ushers had corduroy jackets to wear with their jeans (some things never change). Those ushers were Steve Gorsich, Brad Seymore, and Rudi Woerndle. One of my ushers, Steve Smith, asked his mom to send his corduroy suit to RR for the wedding, but instead she sent his white Sunday suit. He was mortified, but wore it anyway - looking much more like the groom than Toby did. Isn't it funny that his white suit still holds special memories for me. As I mentioned the other day, John the Baptist rented a tux - white - with a top hat and tails. All of these little things made my wedding unique and memorable. Thanks Mom, for insisting that we do it right.

In the photo from left: Gorsich, Smith (white suit), Pete (my little brother),Dad, Mom, Kathy (my little sister), Patti, John the Baptist, Me, Toby, Toby's Dad, Craig (my older brother) Brad Seymore (in the back with the corduroy jacket) Toby's mom, his nephew (the father of Toby's great niece who graduated this year), and his sister, Jan.

P.S. If you did not read my brother's comments on Thursday's blog, go back and read them. He is such a name dropper :)

Painting of the Week

Acrylic Tuscany scene

John the Baptist

With my 30th wedding anniversary coming up soon, I have been toying with the idea of posting some stories surrounding our infamous wedding. Imagine my surprise yesterday when I bought a "Cowboys and Indians" magazine with a reminder of my wedding. From time to time I buy C&I when something on the cover strikes me as interesting. This months magazine has a big article on John Wayne - my hero. Anyway, while flipping through the pages of C&I, I came across and article/ad on ballooning. There on page 153 was a picture and write-up on Johnny Lewis and his balloon company, Santa Fe Balloons. So what does this have to do with my wedding 30 years ago? Well, John Lewis, aka John the Baptist, married Toby and me at the Community House in Red River, NM. John had come to RR some years earlier as a motel owner, later a jeep driver, and eventually a balloonist. John was probably the best jeep driver ever because of his friendliness and great stories or BS. John was also an ordained Baptist preacher - hence the nickname. When we asked him to do our wedding ceremony, he said yes. He said he would say, "Do ya, do ya? And we would say Yeah, yeah. Then we would go to the party." He did not have a suit and tie for the wedding - who did in RR back in those days? A friend of my father's gave John some money to rent a tux for our wedding although it was not formal at all. John showed up in a top-hat and tails. He was a big hit. He did a great job going over our vows with us. It was quick and to the point. I did giggle when Toby promised , "all my worrlie goods" rather than "worldly goods."

The reception was a huge party at the Motherlode. I will tell more about that in another post, but here is a picture of my dad with John the Baptist, and a picture of the basic wedding party My cousin, Patti, was my maid of honor. My brother, Craig, was Toby's best man. It was my perfect wedding.

Plans

Here is a picture of Kathy (my sister) Althea (Kathy's niece) Jesse, and Lindsay. You can see the Gorge Bridge in the back ground.


There has been lots of talk in the news lately about vacations. It seems that few people have time to take big vacations anymore. Supposedly, people do not want to leave their jobs for two weeks or more because they feel insecure in their job or feel like they cannot leave their work to someone else for very long. That all seems silly to me. With technology as it is today, no one is every very far from work. Phones and computers have made "checking in at work" easy. No, I think people can take big vacations if they want. I think they choose to take several smaller vacations instead. It is nice to have a some summertime vacation as well as winter vacation. I think people just want to see and do as much as possible taking short vacations to various places rather than one long vacation. We like to have a few days of vacation to make short trips to see family, and some of Toby's vacation is used for work around the farm.


Our trip to NM and Lubbock was going to be the first time Toby and I have gone off together for a vacation in several years. Oh, we take weekend trips to Lubbock to see his mom. A few years ago we went to Aspermont, TX, on our anniversary, but we were actually looking at tractors. We just rarely get away for more than a few days and those are usually to see family. Building our house took up all of Toby's vacation days in the last couple of years. I guess our last big vacation was in Italy - actually Toby worked while Jesse and I played, but he did take off an extra week to spend with us there.


Toby took off about four days for this vacation, but wrapped around a weekend, it made a nice get-a-way. It took us all of Thursday to drive to Red River. We ate out with family when we got there. Friday was spent with family just visiting (and eating). Saturday we drove to Taos for our float trip down the Rio Grande. Sunday we ended up coming home early with Mom (who is doing quite well now). Monday was spent making sure Mom was good and getting home to do chores. Tuesday was spent working around the farm - typical vacation for us.


The raft trip down the Rio Grande, the part they call "The Box", was the best part of the vacation. I talked quite a few of my family members into rafting, and they all seemed to have a good time. There were three rafts with four of us in each raft. My brother's family and another cousin floated with another raft company that put into the river ahead of us. There were two other rafts on our trip with young men from a construction company in Albuquerque. It made for a fun group. Although the boys kept more to themselves, they were still friendly and fun. The water was not at it is highest level, but it was really good. I have rafted this river several times throughout the years, and I have never seen anyone fall out of the raft. This trip we had four people fall out including one of the guides. My cousin, Trevor, fell out of our raft in some pretty serious rapids. Fortunately, he is young and athletic, but it was just pretty scary. He was picked up about 100 feet down river by the raft with all of the girls (photo above). They teased him saying that he did not have to go through such drastic measures to ride with them.


I was disappointed that we did not get to see more friends in NM. We had planned on doing that Sunday, but the plans changed when Mom went to the emergency room in Taos. I think my biggest disappointment was not meeting Buck in person. Our plan had been to drive through Clovis on Monday and stop to see him there. When that fell through, I called him to let him know our plans had changed. For some reason I was as nervous as a sixteen year old waiting on a blind date. Let me tell you that Buck has a great voice. It was like talking to an old friend. Someday, we will get to meet. Someday, I will get to NY and meet Laurie and maybe to the South to meet Becky. Ah, best made plans of mice and women...


Here is our raft coming through the rapids about the time Trevor fell out.
Here is the girls pulling Trevor into their raft. Notice their guide and his dreadlocks.

Birthdays

Yesterday was my son's 28th birthday. We managed to call him while driving home from our vacation to wish him a happy birthday. Hopefully, we can celebrate this next weekend. We were just babies ourselves when Bo was born in San Marcos, TX, where we were going to college and living in the married housing. This picture was taken in Red River soon after Bo's first birthday. We were at the 4th of July tennis tournament. Bo was such a little tuff guy with that mop of blond hair and his big baby blue eyes. That is me sitting in the background in the yellow and white shorts. I don't know who took the picture.

Today would have been my dad's 79th birthday. The second picture was taken the same summer at the 4th of July parade in RR. That is my dad, Bo, and my dog, Randy. The photo was taken with an old instant Polaroid camera - you can see how it has aged. This is one of my all time favorite photos. Dad used to grow his beard out in the summers - he was so cool. The good folks at the RR town hall made June 11th "Otto Barker Family Day" in honor of my dad and all the joy he brought to RR through the years.

I'll write more about our latest vacation later, but we came home sooner than we expected. My mom became ill while we were in RR. After a trip to the emergency room in Taos on Sunday morning, we felt it important to just get her home. So, we loaded her up and drove home Sunday afternoon. She is feeling much better now. I missed getting to see some friends in RR and the trip to Lubbock, but I'm am glad that Mom is okay now. More later.

Painting of the Week

Things are busy here. I will be gone on vacation/family reunion until next Tuesday. If I get a chance to blog, I will. Don't hold your breath.

Pioneer Spirit

If there were actually such a thing as reincarnation, I think I was probably a pioneer wife in a prior life. When my husband came home and said, “Load up the wagon, woman. We are moving West” I would not have batted an eye. I would have just thought, “what the heck” and rounded up the kids and dogs, packed them into a wagon with a few personal items, greased the wheels on the wagon, and had dinner waiting while my man finished work on the farm. Then when my man said, “You know, I think the West is not for us. Lets turn south at the Platte.” I would have thought, “Why not?” Then again, maybe I would have been a black-widow woman killing off husbands for the heck of it.

I am trying to get us ready for a few days of vacation and a family reunion in NM. Yesterday I took the truck into Wal Mart to do some last minute shopping and get the oil changed in the truck. We are taking the truck because Toby wants to take his motorcycle. One of the items I had to buy at WM was some JB Weld to fix a leak in the motorcycle’s gas tank. Turns out the tank had to be fixed with something else which will take longer to set-up so we may not take the bike after all. Now are we taking the truck? If we take the Toyota, I need to take it to Lawton to have the oil changed in it and the spark plugs replaced. The Toyota would be cheaper on gas and it already had a jillion miles on it. Toby said he would decide and call me (hasn‘t happened yet). I need to pack for the trip along with several other things before we take off tomorrow morning. That is another thing - we were planning on leaving this afternoon and driving to Lubbock to see Toby’s mom, but now Toby thinks it would be better to go through Lubbock on the way home from NM. I think that means we will not leave here until Thursday morning, go through Lubbock on Monday and get home on Tuesday. But will we really come home through Lubbock? I am suppose to get the new tags for the Caddy which we gave my mother-in-law. Should I mail them or just take them with me?

If all of this sounds confusing, it is really not so bad. After 30 years of marriage, it is almost expected. I just try to be ready for whatever change the wind brings. Although, this morning as Toby was leaving for work, he said, “By the way, the man is coming to install the new barn doors.” I am sure he had this information yesterday, but only remembered to tell me this morning. My eye began to twitch and the black-widow woman came to mind. At least he remembered to tell me, and I won’t be caught in my nightgown again and the door-man thinking, “Does that woman ever get dressed?”

Another Adventure

We had the guys and Lindsay over for birthday dinner last night. It is sort of a tradition to pick your favorite meal on your birthday. Jesse chose chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. We finished up with brownies and ice cream. Just for your information, birthday candles come in packs of 24, which is not good when you need 25. After dinner we played a board game. There was lots of fun and laughter. We gave her some high-heels, a Harley T-shirt, and a motorcycle jacket. Jan gave her an art book. She got a “Top Gun” movie from Adam and a “Top Gun” sound track from Kat along with an airplane pin. Do you think her friends know her pretty well? It was a good birthday.

The Trip
While commenting on Buck’s blog this morning, I was reminded of my early days with Toby. Most of you know that Toby and I met during my freshman year at Texas Tech. We ran with the same crowd and started dating in December. Although we talked about marriage, we both had different plans for the summer. He wanted to go to South Texas and I was headed to Red River as I had every summer of my life. The day before I left, Toby quit his job and said he was coming with me. Boys, you may not know it, but this is called stepping up to the plate and taking a big swing. This was saying, “I want to be with you more than I want to do my own thing.” Girls are rather impressed by such stuff. We married on June 27th at the Community House in RR. My brother stood up with Toby while my cousin, Patti, stood with me.

I loaded up my 63 Chevy truck, Toby drove his 74 Camero, my brother was in the old Bisquane, and my cousin, Patti, drove her old Cougar. We made an interesting caravan to the mountains. It was a good thing we were all together because only Toby had a car that would not fall apart at the least little bump. We drove from Lubbock to RR up through Clovis, San Jon, Logan (Whiskey River Road to Ruin) and up through Springer. It was a wild trip. We took lots of silly pictures out in the middle of No Where NM. We did some things that I won’t share here, but were all in good fun. We got stopped by two NM State troopers (three if you count the one that stopped to help us when we broke down in Cimarron Canyon), but did not get any tickets. We had made that trip several times before, and we made it many times after. It is a whole lot of nothing and one of my most favorite roads. It was the road to RR. It was the road to my marriage. It was the road to see my family. It was the road to see good friends. I just love all of that nothingness. I have so many stories - so many memories on that road.

On Thursday, we will make that trip again after stopping in Lubbock to see Toby’s mom. It will be just me and Toby - no kids, no cousin, no brother. I expect it to be very romantic - and a bit of a new thing for us. Jesse and Lindsay will join us later in RR for our family reunion, but they are coming in their own car up through Amarillo (boring).

Hopefully, I will blog tomorrow, but then we are off like…hmm, like college kids on an adventure.

Quarter of a Century

It's all about the girl today. Jesse is 25 years old. She was born in the early hours of June 4th, 1982. I thought she was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, and I still feel that way. She has been a light in our life since day one. The first picture was taken at a street dance in Leon Springs - dancing with her daddy. She had just turned three. Notice the Jelly shoes. The other two pictures were taken yesterday when Jesse and her friends went to OK City to a baseball game. Happy Birthday Jes! You are still beautiful.

Another Graduation

Toby's great-niece graduated Friday night. We drove down to see the ceremony which was duller 'n dirt, but seeing C and her family was nice. C was born on Toby's birthday eighteen years ago. She is a lovely young lady. Her dad is about 6'4" and played football for Texas Tech. C got her height from him. She is about 5'9". Take a look at those high-heels. I love a girl with confidence and great taste in shoes.

The graduation ceremony was pretty horrible - the usual - push your children to get more ambition without equipping them for the world type speeches. Speeches that thanked their parents and such and glorifyied their high school days. One student thanked his teachers for giving him "faith" - what did that mean? Faith in what? Who knows? Two different girls presented music which was well below standard. In fact, it was just bad. Who told these girls they could sing? If that was the best the class had to offer, it made me wonder what else the school said was acceptable, but was, in fact, not even okay. The principal stood up on stage and said that he verified that each of these 140 students had met the requirements of the Texas State Board of Education and then he passed out diplomas. After hearing the speeches and the music, I figured those "requirements" must be set awfully low. Both the valedictorian and the salutatorian had grade point averages above a five point. When did we go to five points? If you get four points for an A, three for a B, two for a C, one for a D, how do you come up with five points. Are they giving points for F's now? Maybe they give extra points for something - who knows. One thing I do know, the speech teacher and the music teacher should be fired.

Painting of the Week

This painting was done from a photo taken in Italy. I added the woman just for fun.