tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38131624087408782162024-03-05T05:33:40.055-08:00BETTY'S BACK PORCHA PORCH IS A PLACE WHERE FRIENDS GATHER TO TALK, HAVE A CUP OF TEA AND TELL EACH OTHER STORIES. I WANT TO SHARE MY THOUGHTS AND IMPRESSIONS AND IMAGES WITH ANY AND ALL WHO CARE TO DROP IN. . . . .Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-87778658346497570892019-01-10T09:37:00.002-08:002019-01-10T09:37:22.107-08:00Songs in Shades of Green.....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-85178216902462790432018-02-15T13:00:00.001-08:002018-02-15T13:00:30.096-08:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">THE FLORIDA INTERLUDE 1956-57<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Jane Ann was about 10 months old when North American transferred
Claude to Cape Canavaral to run tests on theX-10 prototype—the for-runner to
the space vehicles. We bought a little house in Melbourne, Florida and once
again found ourselves in a new and exciting time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were only minutes from the Indian River, and the Atlantic
Ocean. We bought a little boat and spent our weekends and holidays on the river
or on the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Johnny was in 7<sup>th</sup>
heaven with bugs, frogs and baby alligators in abundance, and both he and
little baby Jane found the beaches a perfect playground. Unlike the cold rough
Pacific, the waters around Melbourne were bath-tub warm, and the flat sandy
beaches free from riptides and ankle deep for a long way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Claude was sent to the
islands off Florida to conduct the tests and was in his prime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loved his job!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Other than a scary few weeks
when I had elective surgery and had a transfusion reaction that nearly finished
me off, we had a lovely experience in Florida.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were in the middle of the action and watched the
launchings at the Cape from our own front yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We cruised the Indian River Waterway in our little boat,
with JaneAnn cozy in a little nest in the bow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of our excursions reflected our ignorance or
stupidity—one day we became lost in the swamps of the St. John’s River, and our
boat got stuck in the mud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">All around us we heard what sounded like cows moo-ing, while
Claude waded around in the water trying to get our outboard motor going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were to learn later that what
we were hearing were BULL ALLIGATORS!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We didn’t know there were snakes that climbed trees, and could drop down
into the boat, and one time we encountered a Manatee-huge as an elephant--
beneath our boat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One night our son Mike
awakened us to come look out his bedroom window at a big black panther prowling
our yard!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We learned that a circus
long ago had released its animals into the wilds and they seemed to have
thrived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We had second thoughts about our evening walks after that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Betty L. Owen, journals<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-90592381774194297372017-12-10T09:44:00.000-08:002017-12-10T09:44:14.554-08:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A WINTER TALE<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">TIS THE SEASON. .
. . Thanksgiving was a day of joy and gladness with just Janie and I
participating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beth and Trish had
to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We let the day flow
around us and did what felt good at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A ride in the car seemed the order of the day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sky was dark and overhung with cloud and little
snowflakes drifted down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day
stretched out before us and all around lay a scene painted in winter hues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wild horses roam these hills and we
were brought to a halt by a herd right in the middle of the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were licking the asphalt (for the
salt, I suppose?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It was a photo-op, ready made!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Nevada is a place
where one discovers the beauty of muted color and one perceives that
‘beautiful’ does not necessarily mean ‘green’! As we made our way south along
the base of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the Carson Range snow
levels deepened and EVERYWHERE was a Christmas Card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slowing for groups of deer munching on the shrubbery, the
trees …..oh <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>trees of all varieties
looked picturesque in their mantles of white, and snow like frosting on every
fencepost, branch and twig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not a
flake was melting—the landscape was frozen into a perfect Courier and Ives
landscape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As another
Christmas season unfolds with all it entails, my mind reels with beautiful images
and my thoughts, resting in the knowledge of the love of my family, the
faithfulness of my many friends, wherever they may be, make my heart sing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This new season
has not been traditional in any way, but it will make a beautiful page in my
book. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">MERRY CHRISTMAS,
EVERYONE !!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Love, Betty,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>or Mom, Granny, or Auntie?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-2705636635623014122017-07-16T10:06:00.000-07:002017-07-16T10:06:55.237-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">WHAT
CHILD IS THIS?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It is a pleasant exercise to look back on your
own childhood, extracting the memories that are pleasing to remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently I have been looking back at my
young self in a more objective way, as if I were not seeing myself, but some other
child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This puts a new perspective
on things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I grew up in the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1920's and 30's when child psychology had not advanced to
its present level and my mother had grown up in the late Victorian era.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A vignette begins to take shape in my
mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a scene of my
mother sitting at her dressing table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am very small and I am standing near her and I say something to her
that I do not recall, but<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
never forgotten her words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
said,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You are
adorable". <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">That
I have remembered and treasured those words all these years tells me how
desperately the human psyche craves validation and nurturing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I grew up in an atmosphere of love--one does
not need words to transmit love. It is in every look, and every touch, but
there is a very great need for vocal reinforcement while a child is in the
process of growing and becoming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This child I see was timid and unsure, overly
eager to please, and afraid of displeasing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents had a strange notion that to bestow compliments
on a child might give a false sense of importance, or cause the child to become
arrogant or egotistical. Therefore, as we grew older compliments were given
indirectly—my parents would praise my brothers and sister to me, and they would
praise me to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I have often
discussed this phenomenon with my sister and it is true, but we were unaware of
it then)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The result was that we
grew up thinking our siblings were the more loved and favored.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I had no idea what image I projected to the
people around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mirror could
not speak, and without verbal feedback I did not know if I were pretty or
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would have helped if
someone had pointed out my good qualities--the color of my eyes, or hair, or
had said "you are adorable" to me when I was old enough to know what
it meant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One day I overheard my friend Evelyn's mother
say that she thought I had a nice personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I got home I asked my mother what 'personality'
was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mother's answer raised my
self- esteem several notches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How
I longed to know myself!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How I
needed this validation!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
fed off this meager compliment all my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The education
of a child desperately needs to include assertiveness training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I certainly could have benefited from
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any idea or opinion, however
immature or misguided deserves consideration, and this begins at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is where critical thinking and
debate can become learning tools, and where a child begins to see that being
wrong is not fatal, and that is it OK to have a differing opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my era, a child was chastised
for speaking out. (it was called ‘talking back’ )<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Long after I was grown, in talks with my mother
(she was a wonderfully wise woman) I was told that there was concern that I did
not have a musical ear because I did not sing at an early age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The truth was that my musical ear was
so sensitive that music was almost painful for me to hear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A steel guitar and close harmony could
make me weep. It was in the 3rd or 4th grades that I learned that I was a
natural 'alto'.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under the tutelage
of a marvelous Italian teacher named Mrs. Sarconi, I finally found my
voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She also informed my mother
that I was 'plodding along' scholastically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That stuck with me too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this
child loved to read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reading came
easily for me in school, and I think that should have been a positive
sign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reading was a natural
activity at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No television,
of course, in those days, and we children made regular walking excursions to
the Public Library, which was a good distance from our house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents insisted that we speak good
grammar, and we were very much aware of those who did not. I point out here that there was no profanity in our house. I never ever heard my parents curse or swear!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My latent artistic desires lay smoldering
within.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to draw but unless
a child exhibited a natural ability there was not much encouragement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I encountered this strange attitude all
through school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today all children
are encouraged to express their ideas and feelings through art, and drawing
ability is not the criteria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As I matured I found ways to express my creativity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned to sew, and I painted on
glass and tiles and finally the whole world of china painting opened up to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I discovered that it is
possible to learn to draw, and to 'see' all over again, and never to ignore
that little voice inside that tells you to try.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I plodded along painfully through Jr. High, and
through a wonderful math teacher I found that I could grasp the concepts of
algebra and for the first time got straight A's in math.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was in the eighth grade that I
discovered the beauty and the delights of language and began to develop my
vocabulary, and the love of writing was born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText" style="text-indent: .5in;">
My brain kicked in during the
high school years and I discovered literature and history and earned a place in
the National Honor Society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
worked on the school newspaper, and participated in all of the choral musical
groups available to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I earned a small Scholarship to the Colorado
Woman's College, but did not get encouragement from my parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My father was ill, and there were boys
in the family who had priority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was the end of the depression era, money was scarce, and war was looming on the
horizon.</div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Singing ultimately
became a passion in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
sang in church choirs, Community Chorales and with the Sweet Adelines barbershop
group.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">After
graduating from high school I found a job as a switchboard operator at a little
flying school on the outskirts of Denver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There it was that I met Claude, and my destiny was sealed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest is history. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have absolutely no regrets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I do sometimes wonder. . . IF I had lived in a
time when marriage was not the ultimate fate for a girl, and IF my parents had
had the money to educate all of their children, and IF the war had not come
along at that time to change the course of all our lives. . .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>. . . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Who
would I be now?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<h1>
Betty L. Owen, journals</h1>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 9.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Updated August 2005<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-14043254499657080772017-07-16T09:55:00.001-07:002017-07-16T09:55:26.593-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Pondering. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/betty-l-owen/pondering-/10155076664800304"><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">January 21, 2015 at
9:15am</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">ME AND MY DAD….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> Sometimes I find
myself given over to introspection—I suppose everyone does it now and
then, but I grew up in an era where the common thought on raising children was
‘not too much praise, lest they become arrogant and prideful’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">So,growing up, I did not
get much feedback , the consequence being, in my case, feeling unsure of just
who I was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Looking back now and
remembering some of the discussions I had with my dad, I see that I was a
curious child, who loved to read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> My dad always
subscribed to the Reader’sDigest. I loved it, too and devoured each issue
from cover to cover. Dad and I laughed together over the jokes, and
talked about various articles that we had read. At the time I didn’t
realize how important this discourse was to me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I remember having a
discussion with Dad about the principle of hydraulics in the sprouting of a
seed, and once we talked about ‘goosepimples’ and what causes them!
My dad never laughed at my odd curiosities and always discussed them seriously
with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I read a lot and I am sure
books helped to shape my thinking processes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">. Some of the popular
books I recall reading during my high school days were awesome books:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
Lloyd C. Douglas wrote THE ROBEand MAGNIFICENT OBSSESSION; Taylor
Caldwell wrote DEAR AND GLORIOUS PHYSICIAN & THE CAPTAINS AND THE
KINGS. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> I loved HOW GREEN
WAS MY VALLEY by Llewellyn, And KEYS OF THE KINGDOM by A.J. Cronin <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> My dad always
inquired about the books I was reading and sometimes was shocked that I was
reading books with SEX in them!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> Because I was
timid and non-assertive compared to my feisty sister, and my brilliant older
brother, I did not have a high opinion of my own intelligence. My dad, in
his way, helped to quietly build my confidence, and somewhere along the way I
discovered a solid core of self- esteem buried somewhere within
myself. </span><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">Betty
Owen, Notes 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-24504924634644576522017-05-20T15:47:00.001-07:002017-05-20T15:47:36.632-07:00FIRST DAY OF SPRING....2003<br />
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<br />
My expectations were not high. I have too often wakened to screaming winds and blowing snow on the day that spring is scheduled to arrive. Seldom does it prove to live up to its name. But this day did. It actually warmed to nearly 70 degrees and beckoned me outdoors into the garden, and eventually to Riverview Park Trail. <br />
<br />
It was warm enough for me to peel off my jacket and I set out along the trail with my ears tuned to the sounds of the meadow. The sun filtered through a haze of gauzy clouds, and the blue of the sky was obscured. The atmosphere was filtered and dilute, and the scene a watered down watercolor landscape. Nevada is still colored beige--last summers old stalks and grasses lying lifeless and spent, anemic and bled of color,. and dry. <br />
<br />
In the distance the big cottonwoods show their filigree silhouettes--the delicate lacework of twigs and branches etching their designs onto the skyline. Looking closely, though, I see the swelling of their buds. Those, and the tiny green sprouts of new grass along the path are the only visible signs of spring. <br />
<br />
My ears detect the crescendo of a finch, and the singular sound of a meadowlark. Along the willow hedge were noises of the blackbirds. With no spring run-off as yet, and no water in the ponds, it will be a while before the marsh awakens to life. <br />
<br />
Snow still lies on the high peaks and it will be several weeks before it begins to melt and fill our ponds. Water is the life-blood of this place, and I long for its return. <br />
<br />
The calendar may say that it is spring, but we well know how fickle spring <br />
<br />
in Nevada can be. While enjoying this lovely benign day, I will not put away my <br />
<br />
winter jacket yet. Betty Owen Journals 2003 </div>
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</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-23134483212153483652017-02-24T10:52:00.001-08:002019-01-10T09:35:08.299-08:00Songs in shades of Green.....<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">ARKANSAS~~
songs in shades of green <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">By Betty<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>L.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Owen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">the mind, that ocean where each kind<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">does straight its own reflection find;<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">yet it creates, transcending these,<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">far other worlds, and other seas,<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">annihilating all that’s made<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">to a green thought<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "century gothic"; font-variant: small-caps;">in a green shade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>~~andrew marvell<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“the garden” stanza 6<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">I
lay on the ground with my camera pointed skyward, trying to capture the awesome
height of the trees in that Ozark forest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wanted to preserve forever the way the light danced on the leaves; the
multi colors of greens that had no names, and stained the air with a verdant
taste.<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">It
was a magical place, all flickery with emerald and gold; with shadows moving
restlessly over the thick carpet under my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I prowled like a cat, over rotted logs and stones, expecting
at any moment to see a gnome or an elfin being peeking from behind a tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These tall trees with their feet deep into the
earth and their arms spread toward God, were a presence in the forest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt their movements, the bending and
the soughing, and yes, their music~~ songs in tones of green.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For trees do sing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have heard them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was springtime when we first drove through
those Ozark hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Coloradoan
could not rightly call them mountains, but the soft rounded hills undulated
with greenness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The roadsides were
bordered with natural stone formations, beautifully layered as if by a master
stonemason into low rock walls, or high cliffs picturesque with hanging
vines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The land gently rose, and
the little road wound in and around the hills, opening occasionally onto vast
meadows of tall grasses with last year’s cuttings rolled into great
bundles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woodlands, I was to learn
later, were trees of hardwood, oak, walnut, hickory and cherry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in the understory, in a shimmering
green twilight (I will never forget the sight) grew the dogwoods,
breathtakingly delicate with their white porcelain blossoms laid out like
tea-cups on a table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
fairyland, and I was bewitched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The State of Arkansas had never figured
prominently in the pattern of my life until my wedding day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It became a household word when we were
presented with the deed to 20 acres of land in these Ozarks as a wedding
gift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although we never did
anything with the land for the 60 plus years that it was ours, it has remained
a sort of passport to another world; a place upon which to hang our dreams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has always been a place of an uneasy
silence, because it is a country unto itself and embraces a culture removed and
remote from the familiar, mysterious and unfathomable and self-contained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">Arkansas
has helped to explain facets in my husband’s personality that had baffled me,
so out of character they seemed; his great love for hillbilly and bluegrass
music; his inclination to demonstrate a clog dance at odd moments; his
colloquial expressions that did not fit into our western dialog and often
embarrassed me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We were both raised in the shadows of the
Colorado Rockies, but Claude’s family lived in the Ozark hills for 2 years when
Claude was a boy of 8 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
father, John H. Owen had been a judge in Golden, Colorado, had lost his
election at the start of the big depression and was feeling at loose ends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The family decided to pull up stakes
and move to Arkansas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They owned a
new Veley touring car free and clear and they proceeded to pack it up with
their possessions and they set out, camping along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The year was 1930.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Claude’s parents both had roots in the
Midwest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His grandfather had
migrated with his family from Missouri to homestead in Eastern Colorado.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude’s mother’s people still lived in
Missouri.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The story goes that Claude’s dad traded the big
Veley automobile for 40 acres of land near the little town of Ozone,
Arkansas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ozone is located in what
is called the Boston Mountains, up the hill on Highway 21 out of Clarksville,
Arkansas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today the area is part
of the US. National Park System.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the 30’s the land had some cabins left over from a logging camp, one
of which was large and sturdy enough to be made livable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">This
trade was made with a Mr. Matthews who wanted to sell out and move back to
Colorado.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trade included a pen
of chickens and the contingency that Mr. Matthews would continue to live with
the family until spring, and that he would have chicken for dinner every
Sunday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Claude tells of chinking the cracks in the log
cabin with mud, and papering the walls with newspaper for insulation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They built a loft for sleeping and used
wood and coal oil for heat and light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They planted a garden, raised goats for milk and in short, lived off the
land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude’s dad cut trees and
sold them to a company that made oak barrel staves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude, at 8 years old, held one end of the cross-cut saw
and told about it with great pride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The natives, however, were suspicious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These new folks seemed uppity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lady wore fancy dresses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They talked like ‘furriners’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">There
were incidents and Claude’s dad had to assert his rights with a shotgun at the
ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The natives made
‘moonshine’ in the woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was
Arkansas, and it made a lasting impression on young Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was there that he learned to hunt,
trap and shoot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He learned the
language of the back woods, and he observed first had the commerce of the
natives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He watched the exchange
of fruit jars filled with the strange white liquid, and he understood what a
‘revenooer ‘ was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">To
the natives the making of liquor was considered a God given right and most of
it was made for their own consumption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The situation got complicated when it was sold to
outsiders. Claude’s mother became concerned about these influences upon her
children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Backwoods schools and quality education proved
to be seriously lacking also, and the family found after 2 years that the
children needed to return to civilization.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude believed that he was learning everything that was
important, and would have happily remained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was to this very plot of land that Claude
and I returned 15 years later with our own children, to walk beneath the trees
and search out the old landmarks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although the road had been widened and altered, and the natural spring
that he remembered no longer bubbled, the rocky bluff that he called ‘The Eagle’s
Nest” remained, a monument to his boyhood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">And
the tall trees still whispered their secrets and sang their eternal songs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">Authors
note:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">The
poem quoted at the beginning of this essay is taken from the book THE CHOIRING
OF THE TREES by Donald Harrington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This book is a novel that chronicles Arkansas as it was in 1915 and it
still remains in the most part true today. The author is an Arkansas native and
in a beautiful lyrical style writes of his native state and its peculiarities
and its awesome beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In it he
describes the very area around which my tale is centered, mentioning the little
place called Ozone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">By
Betty L. Owen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";">June
2001<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "century gothic";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-86782332081315341852016-11-14T11:44:00.001-08:002016-11-14T11:44:36.329-08:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">THE LEGEND OF THE
YELLOW ROSE<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I was delighted
to learn that the basket I ordered for Jeannie’s Memorial service contained a
yellow rose—and I think it was a significant thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I have told the
stories of our little Gang of Four—Jeannie and Martha, and my sister AnnE and
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We grew up playing in
Grandma Hinkley’s yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her house
stood in the middle of a large acreage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a barn, a windmill and a huge garden plot. Out front was a row
of lilac bushes that formed little alcoves where we plotted our plays and
games.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But right in the middle of
the side yard there grew a big round bush –bigger around than our dining room
table, and in the spring it burst into bloom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was covered in little yellow roses!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a breathtaking sight!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It stands in my memory even now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I have painted
many plates and cups with this little yellow rose, and always called it Grandma
Hinkley’s Yellow Rose!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Jeannie and
AnnElla and I spoke of it often when we reminisced together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Oddly, the yellow
rose bush stands as something of a monument in the minds and hearts of any of
us who are of an age to recall those long gone days at Grandma Hinkley’s house
in North Swansea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Not many of us
left now to remember, and that is why I write of the yellow rose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Betty’s
journal<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2016<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-11008199346737656852016-11-03T09:29:00.001-07:002019-01-10T11:26:14.456-08:00THREE DAYS AT TAHOE. . .<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">THREE DAYS TO
REMEMBER. . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">We are going to
do it, she said!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are
booking a cabin in Tahoe for the end of October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was Barbara . She gets things done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My siblings and their families live in
Colorado.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two sons and families
live in California, and I have two daughters who live here in Nevada.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Planning a family gathering is a
major strategic project.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Booking anything after the first of October in Tahoe is risky, unless
you are a ski enthusiast and ready for winter weather.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But the two nieces arrived on a bright sunny
October afternoon, and we all packed up and set off for the hills as if we had
good sense!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
“cabin” turned out to be a beautiful family home in the Tahoe Keys area; an
upscale neighborhood in the South Lake Tahoe vicinity, with towering pines and
lush greenery. It was a 3 bedroom house, very spacious, complete with a fully
equipped kitchen, 2 baths, a gas fireplace, loaded bookshelves, comfy beds,
television and movies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the
comforts and then some.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
weather report was not encouraging. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe a sunny day in between rain squalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Colorado guests were unfazed, being
accustomed to Colorado’s unsettled weather and the prospect of rain is always
welcome in this drough-stricken region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We just zipped up our hoodies and headed into the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We toured the whole lake looking
for Sugar Pine Groves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My guests
wanted to see those huge 14 inch cones!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> No luck finding those trees, but we tramped
the woods and breathed in fragrant,
pine scented air and awesome scenery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I
secretly thanked the weather gods for allowing my guests to experience Lake
Tahoe in the midst of a winter storm. The beautiful blue water turned bluer and churned into
a froth of white caps and wavelets.
The wind blustered and the pines whipped around and bent down, dropping
huge cones. Waves splashed against
those huge boulders and washed up a mini surf along the sandy shores. We paroled the boardwalks and beaches,
hair flying, coats flapping.
Everyone had a camera, and Barbara could not stop grinning. It was exhilarating! The air was sharp with ozone, and the
parched earth exuded its unique perfume!
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Back
at the ranch we gathered around the big table, warming our hands on mugs of
coffee and chocolate and so began the tale telling, the Sanderson sarcasm and
old jokes that went on into the evening hours. One story led to another and I believe my brother Dale’s new
lady gained a new perspective of the family she recently joined. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Food
seemed to be a secondary priority.
(I, being the matriarch, was excused from all work) and food appeared by
magic, and the clean up also mysteriously happened. I was not involved.
One of the perks of growing old—real old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I
believe that these gatherings
should be a requirement for keeping family connections alive. How very precious this was to me—to be
able to see these beloved persons through the lens of my advanced age is a very
special blessing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "handwriting - dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt;">B.Owen,
reflections. October 2016<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p>This is my version of our family event at Lake Tahoe last week....Betty L. Owen </o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-19149976190849867212016-11-01T12:12:00.001-07:002016-11-02T09:57:01.727-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;">THE LAKE<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I have seen
the lake so perfectly calm that a leaf falling into the water seemingly would
create a wake that would disturb the tranquility of the water from shore to
shore. A special moment in time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This time, a
different lake was revealed to me during a gathering of family along the shores
of Lake Tahoe. The weather was angry and a bit violent and the lake reflected
the mood of the weather. But still, beneath the frothy, crashing waves breaking
on the shore, the lake still blue and eerily calming to the eyes and soul. A
rainbow in the sky softened the harshness. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lake was
not as disturbed as the surface would indicate. The blue water was even bluer than normal and the colors magically changed as each wave rolled by, and the sky was, as
always, just spectacular. It was as if God was residing there, saying, “This
too shall pass”.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Reflections
of the few days spent along the shores are similar. Many hours spent reflecting
on the passage of time in the lives of those gathered. We told of storms that
came into our lives and the many humorous outcomes of lives lived miles apart. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A time of sharing and reflecting on the changing moods of our lives. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And like the lake, time passes and the
calm returns and life is restored to its natural balance. As if God resides
there, and saying, “This too shall pass.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I feel that
we can learn from the observation of the nature that surrounds us. The Lake
changes constantly, as do our lives and if God resides in our souls, our lives
will reflect His spectacular handiwork as it does at this beautiful Lake. A sp<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>ecial moment in time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This was written by my brother Dale Sanderson Sr. after a family reunion at Lake Tahoe. October 2016</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-19524576437079905352016-01-29T09:58:00.000-08:002016-01-29T10:48:49.094-08:00Wartime years 1945 Brooklyn, NY<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">VIOLETS
IN BROOKLYN<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">THE
WAR YEARS 1944/45<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">I
consider the time we lived in Brooklyn as time in a foreign country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt so isolated in a sea of
people!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">Claude
had received orders to NAS Floyd Bennett Field in New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We once again went house hunting—a
thankless job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
house we finally found was a block off Flatbush Ave in Brooklyn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a monstrosity of gray clapboard,
devoid of paint and tilting dangerously on its axis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sat on a lot directly over the IRT subway, and shivered
and shook each time a train rumbled through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">We
occupied the ground floor and entered our apartment from a long hallway from
the front door into a main room with twin beds and a living room that
overlooked the avenue from a big bay window. The kitchen was quite spacious but had a sink with running water, a vintage 1930 gas range, had an old zinc laundry tub which doubled as our bathing facilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">A
small closet contained<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Niagara
Falls” which was an old fashioned toilet with an overhead reservoir and a pull
chain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No tub, no sink, no shower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Off of the hall there was a dark rickety stair
that led to the basement and the furnace that furnished steam heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The landlord provided the services of a
man who came twice a day to stoke the furnace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would see him come strolling down the street carrying a
little bucket of beer, and he would enter the basement from an outside door to
which he had a key.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The problem was that the furnace was faulty and had to be stoked up
several times a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude
was away for weeks at a time and I had to creep down the dark spidery stair to stoke
the furnace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a light
with a pull chain at the BOTTOM, but no light switch at the top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The landlord refused to allow even a
small bulb at the top of the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">I
was not normally a fearful person, but I really hated spiders !<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I did often wonder if I would find
the furnace man stoned on beer at the bottom of the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The house creaked and moaned in the wind, and
during a storm one night I heard the front door fly open with a loud crash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had a Yale lock on it and I could
only think that someone had broken in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was alone in the house with my baby son Mike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was petrified!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">I
peered out my door and saw that the front door was standing wide open!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no other option—I had to go close
it !<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I crept down the
dark hall, closed the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>door—the
Yale lock had not been turned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided that the house had shifted in
the wind enough to slip the lock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The house sat on a fairly large lot next to the
foundations stones of a derelict </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">building.</span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"> </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">When spring came Claude and I set
about cleaning up the yard.</span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"> </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">It was
almost knee deep in trash and dead leaves.</span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"> </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">We raked up trash and using the stacked up stones we built a little
fireplace for grilling.</span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"> </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">It was
actually quite unique as there were not many unpaved areas of actual soil in
the city of Brooklyn. </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"> </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">There was
even a tree. . . . . . Growing in the yard…in Brooklyn.</span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"> </span><span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">Imagine that!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our 18 mo. old son, Mike , had a place to
play and to dig in the dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt SO good to do normal things in
wartime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To our surprise and delight, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>violets came up all around the yard that
spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I think of that
funny old house in Brooklyn the scent of violets comes to mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";">Wartime
adventures—Betty L. Owen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkduster";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8yqWMZ39FQvq-30iizpz7E_bHQJJ4Cps7z8IBKyiVE4Uc6QmdQQdGBl_iKunh6FGwauWft2o9aut02LIJiw6Wt8n3ZG56777fnNm078Pg5aBUds3QB7g4S2gL-Vg1M6NGPrt3IK9Scb4/s1600/Betty+%2526+Mike+1944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8yqWMZ39FQvq-30iizpz7E_bHQJJ4Cps7z8IBKyiVE4Uc6QmdQQdGBl_iKunh6FGwauWft2o9aut02LIJiw6Wt8n3ZG56777fnNm078Pg5aBUds3QB7g4S2gL-Vg1M6NGPrt3IK9Scb4/s1600/Betty+%2526+Mike+1944.jpg" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-78335366594439166982015-06-15T18:23:00.001-07:002015-06-15T18:23:44.786-07:00
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<b><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">A de javu plane ride<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/betty-l-owen/a-de-javu-plane-ride/10155642362730304"><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">June 14, 2015 at 11:26am</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">An event today at the Carson City
Airport had my blood running faster than usual. An old Ford Tri-Motor
plane came by to visit. This plane has an interesting history and
one which involves my son-in-law
Glenn Ware. He grew
up in Kansas where this very plane was first based, and he took a ride in it
when he was 15 years old. He has pictures of it in his scrapbook!
The very plane! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> I met my husband, Claude
Owen when he was a 19 year old flight instructor at the Park Hill Airport in
Denver in 1940. These were the days of all the old early planes--Aeronca,
Cub, Stinson, Waco, Cessna, Fairchild, Curtis Fledgling. The Ford
Tri-Motor was also in that lineup and I am sure it must have come through
Denver at some point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> They
were giving rides today in Carson City. My daughter insisted that I take
a ride. I was not prepared for the wave of de-javu that rolled over me as
I climbed into that old plane. Those huge radial engines, the roar, the
vibrations, and the feeling...the real seat -of -the pants feel of flying.
My eyes misted as all those long buried experiences bubbled up into my
memory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> I had my first real airplane ride in a Waco UPF-7 Claude asked me if I would
like to ride along as a passenger in a formation of 3 Wacos over a parade on
Boulder, Colorado. He fitted me out in a helmet and goggles and a
parachute and I will always remember the acrobatic maneuver that gave me
the biggest thrill of my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">The Ford Tri-Motor is a big work-
horse of a plane. It can accommodate about 10 passengers. My
window looked out on one of the huge engines, and the big struts of the landing
gear, which did not retract, by the way!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> From my window I looked down upon all of Carson City
and environs. It was a perfect day, a serendipitous day for a lady
approaching her 93<sup>rd</sup> birthday. My eyes took in all in,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">and my heart throbbed with the
joy of remembrance...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Betty L. Owen June 14, </span><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-shadow: auto;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/bettylo"><span style="color: white; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Betty L. Owen</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"> </span></b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Manual-High-School/108146615886655"><b><span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: auto; text-underline: none;">Manual High School</span></b></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-shadow: auto;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"> </span></b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/bettylo/notes"><b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Notes by Betty L. Owen</span></b></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"> </span></b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/"><b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">All Notes</span></b></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"> </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/editnote.php?draft&note_id=10155642362730304&id=1204016555"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Add Tags</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">GAMES YOU MAY LIKE<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-29064416433097385122015-04-26T08:27:00.001-07:002015-04-26T08:27:49.162-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota";">THE
COLD ROOM. . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When you reach
the age of 92 your internal vision seems to gaze backward instead of
forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thinking today about my grandmother’s house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It stands prominent in my memory as so many
of my childhood hours were spent there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The house sat on a large lot—large enough to accommodate a barn and a
windmill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grandma kept chickens in
a fenced enclosure and part of the barn was dedicated to an incubator where
chicks were hatched each spring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was a two- story house and looms large in my
mind .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I see a big kitchen
with a large wood-burning stove. I believe it provided the only heat in the
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no memory of a
fireplace or any other stove anywhere in the house. Off to the side a stair led
down into to a spooky cellar and on the other end of the kitchen was a small
vestibule-a kind of intersection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A stair to the
right led to upper rooms and to the left was the front parlor and main part of
the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Another door opened
into the COLD ROOM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That door was
always kept closed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
not totally forbidden, but we were admonished to not go in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">To the children a
closed door holds a kind of mystery-!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Of course, that
was where we most wanted to explore, and on occasion we were allowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was really <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">cold</b> in there!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In this room were
kept the stack of player piano rolls-those strange objects that somehow
produced such wonderful music—when Grandma allowed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a strange aversion to
music, and became very grouchy when, at holiday time, the uncles opened up that
wonderful piano and pumped the pedals and made music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While Grandma steamed!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I yearned to go into the cold room because
along the wall stood a beautiful pump organ!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of those with carved shelves and little
nooks and crannies and mirrors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was a beautiful thing and I was totally fascinated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved it with such a passion and longed to hear it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only on a few occasions was I
allowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one else seemed
to be interested or ever played it …or even mentioned it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart ached to touch it, to let the
music out!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The cold room was
kept closed, I suppose, because it was difficult to heat, and was a handy place
to store things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It held cast off
furniture and old lamps and things, but it also seemed to have a sinister
aspect --as if it held secrets...ghosts!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps it held
the secret of why Grandma hated music, and acted strange and cold around
Grandpa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mother told about long ago evenings
when her daddy (Grandpa) would get out his fiddle and play happy tunes while
the family clapped and danced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then one day the music stopped, and Grandma stopped fixing her hair, and
seemed to no longer care about how she looked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My mother never understood the reasons behind
the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sadness in Grandma’s eyes, and
the coldness that developed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>between her and Grandpa, but Grandpa never ever got his fiddle out
again, and Grandma lost her love of music.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I think the
secrets were there in THE COLD ROOM.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">FAMILY TALES<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>by betty L. Owen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-41903531522031219552015-04-02T11:15:00.001-07:002015-04-02T11:15:07.351-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">THE HOUSE ON
SOUTH PEARL STREET<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Last night I had
a dream. . . . .about the Esterbrooks, and about the house they lived in on
South Pearl<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in Denver. The<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dream image was SOUTH EMERSON; SOUTH
EMERSON??<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Our family spent
many hours in that house and in that vicinity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Downing Street is a beautiful thoro-fare that runs
along side Washington Park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In those days Washington Park Lake was a swimming hole in the summer and
an ice rink in the winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>South
Pearl St. was at the bottom of a long incline that ran from Downing St. to
South Broadway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember roller skating
at the speed of light down this long hill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Esterbrook house was the gathering place for our families and the ravenously
hungry teenagers after a skating or swimming party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The basement of the house was spacious enough to house a
pool table and it could contain the raucous voices and boisterous antics of a
gang of teens. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The Esterbooks
loved to host these parties—usually with endless waffles and scrambled eggs!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Sanderson/Esterbrook connection was long
standing…it stemmed from the war-time bond that my dad and Estie had<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>after WW 1, when my parents moved to
Fort Collins, Colorado during my dad’s student days at Colorado Aggies, and
Forestry School.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flo and Estie
lived in Fort Collins and they became acquainted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">They had two
adopted kids—George, who was a spoiled brat when he was small, but morphed into
a beloved brother as he matured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>JoAnne came along later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Esties indulged and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>spoiled their children terribly but they were family to us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>REMEMBERING</span></u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">.
. . . . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dream was mostly
about the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
recollections are vivid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I graduated from high-school I got a job at Montgomery Ward which
was on South Broadway, within walking distance of the Esterbrook house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I worked in the
mail-opening department and had to be at work at 5 am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kids in those days did not own
cars, and from my parents house in east Denver there were no street-cars that
ran that early, so it was decided that I would board at the Esterbrook house
during the week, walk to work, and ride the streetcar back home on
weekends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even at that, I
had to set my alarm for 3 am to make my schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a bed in the basement, and a vivid memory of awaking
to the loud chirpings of the robins in the trees out in the yard, and the
lonely walk to work in the dawns early light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Montgomery Ward
sat next to Gates Rubber Company and at that early hour, Gates fired up their
furnaces and began cooking their tires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The fumes and the smoke drifted into the open windows of the mail room
where I sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was nasty, and
made me nauseous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mail girls
worked under the iron hand of a grim, stony faced young woman who ruled with an
imaginary whip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not a
fun job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my dream I
was revisiting the area and knocked on the door of the house, introduced myself
as a former resident and asked if we could look around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were invited inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I awoke and began
trying to revive my memories of the house I thought I remembered so well. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mrs. Esterbrook
was an enigma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a
perverse personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
heart was made of pure gold, and she was generous to a fault, but she took a
certain satisfaction and delight in making people uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I often discussed this with my mother,
who was her best friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were
aware that Mrs. E was a wounded soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and Estie had two natural children, Jimmy and
Glennis at the time my parents mMroved to Fort Collins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within a very short time both
these children died, one of pneumonia, and one of meningitis, I believe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. E. never recovered, and seemed to
be at war with herself and God forever after.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This, I suppose, could account for her strange
behavior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After I was married she
and Estie often came to visit us when we lived in California.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would usually rent an apartment
near the sea, and then spend the days with us and always find ways to help and
assist us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They visited us in
Florida, and it was while they were there that Flo passed away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had congestive heart failure, and had arrived at my
door ill and running a fever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
was very traumatic for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
never dealt with a death before and I really needed my mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Estie was
devastated and we were all overwhelmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Estie left all the details of her effects to me, but he arranged for a
cremation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took her ashes to
the seashore and let the wind carry them away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">MRS ROUP<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mrs. E.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>had a neighbor named Mrs. Roup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They lived in a big two story house
across the alley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Roup
household<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>consisted of Mr. &
Mrs. Roup, her adult brother, and 6 children of various ages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Roup was looking for household
help—mainly someone to help with ironing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mrs. E.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>volunteered me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a timid soul and was easily
intimidated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs Roup ran her
household with an iron fist and you can imagine the laundry she had with two
adult men, and 4 little girls plus 2 boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was hired, and I was treated like a slave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was given a garret room in the
attic with a little cot, no pillow and a narrow window out of which I could
look down upon the Esterbrooks back yard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I was shown the ironing board, and given
instructions on what was expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At my feet were two bushel baskets of rolled up ironing;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1000 dress shirts, ruffled dresses,
pillow cases and long linen table cloths---Mrs. Roup set a formal table every
day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Everything in
those days had to be starched, sprinkled and rolled. Fabrics were stiff, no
perma press at that time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I ironed and
ironed until the sun went down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was fed and banished to my attic garret room, and told to be on duty the next
morning early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I felt like
Rumplestiltskin with his room full of straw!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the end of this weekend of work I was
given $2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was timid, but I was not stupid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">.A FLOOD OF
MEMORIES. . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">All these things
flooded my mind this morning as I awoke with the remnants of the dream running
through my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I thought of
George—he was one of the most handsome boys I have ever known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He became a policeman, and he married a
woman named Connie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her name
eluded me at first, and I ran my brain through the alphabet trying to recall……<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Connie, ah yes!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A RIFT IN THE RELATIONSHIP…<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My dad was a
smoker for many years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
became a nonsmoker after a health scare, and one of the most adamant non
smoking advocates in the history of man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">George’s Connie
was a heavy smoker and did not abide by anybody’s rules.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The family had
gathered at my parents place in Alma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>George and Connie often came to visit my folks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Connie lit up,
and my dad asked her to please not smoke in the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She glared at him, and said she
would smoke when and where she pleased.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>World War 3 ensued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dad won. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Connie departed
and never set foot on the Sanderson Territory again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This is how it
was told to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">THE HOUSE ON 924 SOUTH PEARL<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was made of brick, painted white,
with a deep, wide front porch, bungalow style, common to Denver neighborhoods
at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see it now in my mind,
as familiar as the house on Garfield St.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Memory eludes me, however, and details fade in my
mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see the kitchen best, and
the little bulldog, Fritz, sitting beside the kitchen chair begging for
tidbits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I see Flo,
standing beside Estie’s chair, with a bowl in her hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She says to Estie,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Dost crave a prune?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Estie <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><o:p></o:p></u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">answers with a
straight face, “Dost”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two of them could be hilarious
together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">ESTIE<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We often speak of
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a self made, self
educated man who never went to college but who was one of the most well read
men of my acquaintance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had
been an explorer of sorts in Alaska and told stories of dogsleds and of wild
experiences as a government agent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His rugged looks and mobile face was fascinating to watch as he told his
stories or recited the verses of Robert Service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was our family character and beloved of us all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were much blessed to have him in our
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Estie and my dad played
cribbage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would greet each
other with a hand shake and a “Jim!”, and a “Sandy!”. The evening would pass
with cribbage talk, and an occasional thump on the table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their friendship was built on a mutual
war experience that went beyond our understanding<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But it was
beautiful to watch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">AFTERTHOUGHTS:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My brother Dale
reminds me that the address was not South Emerson….but 924 South Pearl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I KNEW THIS!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dream kept screaming South
Emerson, for some unknown reason. . . . .???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I made corrections in my story)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">DALE SAYS:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“last I heard
Connie lived in that house after George died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She had at least
one daughter that lived close to where Faye and I lived, but other than a
sympathy card when Mom died I never heard from her again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember Dad telling her, “I don’t
care what it is, don’t smoke it in here!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Dale adds:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh yeah, the cribbage games.. they
would never really talk—15-2<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-4
–and a pair is 8!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or they would
grunt or tap their fingers on the table and say, ‘that’s a go!’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">ME:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was fascinated by their relationship and pondered on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their conversation was on a deeper
level and spoke of a unique and precious bonding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was beautiful to watch.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">DALE SAYS:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“The most vivid
memory is the ice skating pond that Estie and George would make on the north
side of the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many hours of
playing hockey and skating around the pond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember Flo thinking that a longhorn steer-head replica
that I made was really good!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
wasn’t, and I knew it, but she was excited that I made that with my own two
hands and a jig saw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
the Sunday dinners nearly always involved gravy and smashed potatoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember George and his boxing gear,
and his motorcycle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Estie’s
laugh—just like Elmer Fudd! “<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I remember the skating rink, too<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></u></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-62222098819220599612015-03-22T12:07:00.001-07:002015-03-22T12:07:10.258-07:00An Ordinary Grace: a book review<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota";">.
. . . .A BOOK REVIEW. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">ORDINARY GRACE<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">By William Kent
Krueger<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This is a
multifaceted novel set in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a small
farm community in Minnesota. It documents a tragic year in the life of the
little town of New Bremen –1961.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is told in the voice of a precocious 13 year old boy, Frank Drum, who
along with his younger brother Jake is witness to some earthshaking events
that will forever change their lives and alter their view of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their father is minister of the
Methodist Church, a man who came home from WW2 with his dreams shattered
and his perspectives totally changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His wife finds herself in a situation that she detests, but makes the
most of it by using her musical talents in the church and community
programs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She projects her
lost dreams and passions onto the shoulders of their beautiful and talented
daughter, who has her own dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The authors luminous writing creates
vivid images of the beautiful northern river country and provides historical
background that brings the town and its back-roads, the railroad tracks, the
river banks, the mud and the sand, the heat and the humidity vividly into your
world and you find you are deeply immersed in the life of this little town and
its fascinating<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>characters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mysterious and
unexplained deaths, old prejudices –all the human foibles and flaws of everyday
life are woven into the tapestry of this story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two boys are exposed to the dark elements in back rooms
and police stations, and are witness to the devastation of loss in their own
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their emotionally
devastated, but wise and even-keeled father provides the anchor, the model and
the rope to guide their way through the tangled territory they must navigate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It is a
beautiful, heartbreaking story, but leaves you with lessons to learn and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>deep thoughts to ponder upon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My kind of book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Handwriting - Dakota"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Betty L Owen<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Journals 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-88064797626730724242015-03-03T12:07:00.003-08:002015-03-03T12:23:26.220-08:00A LETTER TO MY GRANDDAUGHTER:<br />
<br />
Dear Darling Girl,<br />
I am still gettng flashbacks from our road trip and the more I contemplate, the more incredible it seems that we were able, on the spur of the moment to get ourselves together to take that trip! It was a week to remember in so many ways. I loved watching you revel in your new-found freedom and release from the adedemic stress of 4 long years at the Air Force Academy. Everything delighted you, even being with your aged traveling companion.!<br />
I have been thinking about our conversations--especially the one where we were talking about the pro's and cons of Sunday School and church, and teaching children values etc. I felt that I kind of left you hanging on that. . . .and I have been pondering on it ever since.<br />
Looking back on my own early religious training and the funky little Baptist church I attended, it seems a miracle that I did not wind up permanently scarred. The pastor was hard core fundamentalist, which means that he preached 'fear'. I was afraid to drink Root Beer because I thought the bubbles meant it was intoxicating! We were taught that everything was a 'sin'; going to movies on Sunday, dancing, playing cards and of course, drinking. Remember this was in the '30's and the era of Prohibition, and the Women's Christian Temperance Union! We got blasted from all sides on these issues. It seemed to me that everything was a sin! I was being brain-washed in a big way!<br />
All these things confused me, especially when my dad was booted out as choir director because he smoked! I could see what the smoking was doing to his body. He developed a bleeding ulcer (most probably from post war stress) and was advised to give up smoking, which he did. He was in his '40's. He became an avid non-smoking advocate after that. But<b> his smoking was a personal choice and it was not the business of the church to judge him. He also loved to play cribbage and the church held him in contempt for that also, and he was judged unfit to lead the choir.</b><br />
I wass rescued from total destruction when I was about 15. The old pastor retired and a new enlightened man, Rev. G. Moyer, came in as our new pastor. He completely opened my eyes, and got me thinking 'outside the box'. His concepts, his interpretations were like a breath of fresh air, and completely changed my perspective, and that of my whole family. By listening and observing this man's attitudes, actions and seeing his great humility and humanity I learned what being a Christian really meant. There was nothing fake about this man. He was totally real.<br />
Thinking about these things has led me to the conclusion that my beliefs are the result more of influences of my parent's attitudes and of people like Rev. Moyer than what I was taught in Sunday School. My parents were always able to set me straight when I came home confused about the viewpoints and the narrow teachings of my SS teachers. I know now that most of those teachers in those days had not even a high school education and yet were recruited to teach Bible concepts to vulnerable youngsters. After Rev. Moyer came we were exposed to a wider variety of speakers and educators within the Denver Church Conferences.<br />
The one positive thing I recall from my association with the little Baptist church was that it was there that I learned to sing. The Baptists lost their inhibitions when the lady sat down at the piano and began to play! The place rocked! My best sermons came from the words of those old hymns. It was from that language and those melodies that I developed my concept of God.<br />
I can fully understand why young people today don't buy into religion. There is too much hypocrisy and sham evident within the church these days. But we should not throw the baby out with the bath water. Every institution has its flaws, mainly because it is made up of flawed human beings, but a diligent seeker is more apt to find high-minded, idealistic and positive people in churches than anywhere else. Good people coming together to help each other, to pray with and for each other and to collectively support humanitarian causes cannot be a bad thing.<br />
I remember you asking what would be the best way to instill values and a concept of God in your children, when you had no trust in churches. . . . I have given some thought to that question.<br />
If you think about it, most of us have learned these profound concepts at our mother's knee. I believe that our knowledge of right and wrong, along with a perception of God, is learned at home, gleaned from the attitudes and disciplines of daily life and experiences. This is where we absorb our values and mores. This is where we learn to say our first prayers.<br />
Associations with youth groups and church activities should be an enhancement to what is taught at home, but one cannot say enough about a nurturing, love centered family as the prime source of teaching children what they need to know; the setting of the moral compass....and the belief in a Supreme Being.<br />
Beth, these are the things I wanted to say to you that day while riding in the car, but I needed to process and distill my thoughts and define what I really did believe. I am glad you were the catalyst to turn on my thinking machinery. I can't tell you how much I treasure that beautiful week together, the sharing of our ideas and the bonding that took place in the process. It means the world to me.<br />
I love you forever. Gramma B June 2007<br />
<br />
note: Beth had just graduated from the Air Force Academy and she wanted and needed to unwind.<br />
She drove, and I went along on a long safari into Southern California, visiting aunties, uncles and cousins on the way. We visited Joshua Tree, Yosemite and points between. A memorable road trip.<br />
Betty L. Owen journals<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-55849797606140907002015-01-17T11:03:00.001-08:002015-01-17T14:03:58.495-08:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">LIFE IN CALIFORNIA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1953-1965<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We were introduced to
California in Redondo Beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Claude’s first job in California was with the Downey Branch of North American
Aviation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beach life was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>difficult for me. I had to become
accustomed to the lack of seasons—summertime in winter, flowers and new growth in January! However, the kids
adapted quickly and loved it. From Redondo we moved to Garden Grove/ Anaheim
where we were surrounded by freeways and incessant traffic and neighborhoods that focused
on landscaping and upscale homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were within spitting distance of Knotts Berry Farm, and Disneyland was
born during those years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
was Jane Ann.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>October of
1955.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Claude never let the grass grow beneath his feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was always looking for new
opportunities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>moved from the city to country to give
our kids a little more breathing room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mike was into old cars,
Patsy was very much involved in horses: John was tearing around in a go -cart so we decided on a place that was more
for the acreage than the floor-plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were pastures and barns and sheds and our kids
thrived on the space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>North American Aviation was involved in the Saturn Project and we
suddenly were faced with the prospect of moving to Mississippi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By this time Mike was out of high
school, taking college classes and working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had helped him buy a little house of his own so he did
not go with us to Mississippi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Driving</span> our Mercury sedan and towing a Volkswagon bug we set off on the road trip of a
lifetime..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was summer, but we
had a really good air conditioner in the Merc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We tried to prepare our kids for a culture shock—this was the era of the Martin Luther King marches and riots, and life in Mississippi was a
far cry from our California life style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Quite a large contingent of Californians descended upon the Mississippi
Gulf Coast region, and the economy there improved considerably as houses were
built and purchased and new neighborhoods erupted in the piney woods of
Mississippi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The huge test facility
roared and boomed and the ground shook as the Saturn rocket was tested and retested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were exuberant, grand times!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We had a big two- story
house built in one of Picayune’s new neighborhoods, and life continued in a
California style on the surface, but we saw ominous signs of an under-culture
and were aware of a racial undercurrent and a nameless rumble of fear beneath
the façade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our experience with hiring help was eye-opening for all of us, and we came away with a radically different perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In all I look back on those two years as some of the best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were a part of a crucial time in
history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a ‘learning
time’ in our family, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We were seeing the many facets of the racial issues first hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hired a negro lady to help with my ironing and chores, and thought I
was being open minded and fair by inviting her to ride in the front passenger
seat of my car,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will never forget
the look of fear in her eyes as she tried to tell me that she and her family
could be in great danger if she was seen <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">‘not keeping in her
place’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was seeing aspects of
racism in the south that I had not known existed. It was a wake-up call for all of us!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">HURRICANE BETSY. . .1965<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Our new house was under
construction and we were living in a mobile home at the time Betsy hit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did not like the idea of being in a
mobile in a hurricane so we scouted the town of Picayune for a solid looking
motel in which to wait out the hurricane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Picayune is about 50 miles inland from New Orleans and the Gulf.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We found a motel that was
nestled amongst a grove of tall pines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It looked substantial and solid, and we packed some supplies and water
jugs and settled in for the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our son John kept watch all night and he said he saw the pine trees bend
down almost to the ground in the wild wind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The next morning Picayune
was still there, and we learned that almost all of the damage in Picayune was incurred by
falling pine trees!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Incredibly,
not a one surrounding our motel had fallen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">At our new house site,
however, a pine tree had been blown over onto the roof, but did not do a lot of
damage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Low- lying areas along the
Gulf Coast were badly flooded, and the coastal highway was a disaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We saw flotsam and jetsam up on the grounds
of the beautiful anti-bellum homes along the coast—and debris from the bayous,
including snakes and alligators was rampant along the highway. The beaches
were gone, totally washed away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There were many of the California contingent who had bought homes in
the high-dollar housing along the gulf coast and incurred much flood and wind
damage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were glad we had
chosen to live in the humble village of inland Picayune where the elevation was
a whopping 50 feet!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It made a big difference! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">From Betty's Journals</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-65564636735889389462014-11-17T13:56:00.002-08:002014-11-17T13:56:53.683-08:00<b><i><u><span style="color: #351c75;">A BOOK VERSUS A MOVIE</span></u></i></b><br />
<i><u><span style="color: #351c75;">THE SHIPPING NEWS by Annie Proulx</span></u></i><br />
<i><u><br /></u></i>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">The writer of THE SHIPPING NEWS is Annie Proulx. I have no idea as to how that is pronounced, the the lady is a genius with words. I often wonder how a movie maker translates beautiful prose into a film. The story is there, of course, but the images created by the writer are somehow lost. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Ms. Proulx abandons the rules of punctuation and structure when she flings down her sentences--it is as if she shuts her eyes and lets the thoughts and ideas run ram ant through her fingers onto the keyboard. If she uses a computer she must certainly turn off the spell-check! Her voice comes through and the images and descriptions fill the spaces behind your eyes as you read. . .</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">In describing the Aunt she says, "...her sentences flew from her like ribbons on a pole."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Her analogies are hilarious as she builds her word pictures, and the images of the bleak, rocky coast of Newfoundland fill up your mind, and you find yourself looking for a blanket as you imagine the sleet slamming against your window-panes!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"> The movie was true to the book in most ways, but if you want a glimpse of real life on the seacoast of Newfoundland, and a peek into that rickety old house on Quoyle's Point. .. .go read the book! Read and reviewed by Betty L. Owen</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-31563047646828326702014-10-12T16:08:00.001-07:002014-10-12T16:08:48.959-07:00<div class="_4-u3 _5cla" style="border-top-left-radius: 3px; border-top-right-radius: 3px; border-top-style: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 16px;">
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My favorite color is October</h2>
</div>
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<div class="_5k3v _5k3w clearfix" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-top: 16px; word-wrap: break-word; zoom: 1;">
O day of rest and gladness! O day of peace and light!<br />
I did get to the early service, thus having the remainder of this bright blue and gold Sunday before me!<br />
I could hardly wait to get out to the Carson River Park! But I sorta skipped the part where I am 92 years old and missing a good bit of the stamina I had in other days. I shoulda had a sandwich. But I set off, dark glasses on my wide open eyes, my camera at the ready! <br />
The line of cottonwoods along the river were glittering gold in the distance, and the hot noonday sun, glinting off the dry fuzzy seedpods of the desert brush made dry bouquets everywhere. The wetlands is actually quite pathetic. The ponds have dried up...no bulrushes, no cattails, and alas! no raucous redwings and swooping swallows. I remember other October days, other wetter years, but each time it is different--different day, different light, and different me, and different impressions.<br />
I trudge along, the trail dry dust beneath my feet. The water in the river dribbles along, casting weak reflections of the sky from its little lagoons. The cottonwood grove is ablaze with yellow doubloons, and the woodland floor shadowed with mottled light. The ambience of the grove is eternal in the presence of the old trees.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-75317948991390942822014-09-03T06:46:00.001-07:002014-09-03T06:46:11.604-07:00ON GROWING OLD. . . .<div class="clearfix" style="zoom: 1;">
<h2 class="_5clb" style="color: #141823; font-size: 24px; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
On growing old. . .</h2>
</div>
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<a class="uiLinkSubtle" href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/betty-l-owen/on-growing-old-/10154314620365304" style="color: #9197a3; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">July 4, 2014 at 8:06am</a><span class="timelineUnitContainer" style="position: relative;"><div class="uiSelector inlineBlock audienceSelector timelineAudienceSelector audienceSelectorNoTruncate dynamicIconSelector uiSelectorNormal uiSelectorDynamicTooltip" style="display: inline-block; margin-left: 1px; margin-top: -3px; max-width: none !important; vertical-align: top; zoom: 1;">
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</span></div>
<div class="_5k3v _5k3w clearfix" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-top: 16px; word-wrap: break-word; zoom: 1;">
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
The sun rises over the eastern mountains and sends it golden rays through the boughs of a big cottonwood tree out in back of my house.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
That golden light illuminates my bedroom window and I waken to its glow. A rush of joy fills me and I leap up to raise the shade and look out upon the sunrise. Just seeing is not enough and I want to run for my camera to record this moment. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
But often these days I awaken to contemplate my life now as AN OLD PERSON. A cold dread grips me and my stomach clenches and I am filled with fear and trepidation.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
It happened this morning. The years lay heavy upon me. I feel anxious but cannot say why. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
Sunshine spilled across my bed and as I lay contemplating my condition .. . . . .then these words flashed into my mind:</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
THROUGH MANY DANGERS, TOILS AND SNARES, I HAVE ALREADY COME!</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
'TIS GRACE THAT BROUGHT ME SAFE THUS FAR,</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
AND GRACE WILL LEAD ME HOME!</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
AMAZING GRACE! </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">
Betty L. Owen 2014 (Notes)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-20751331266400720212014-08-24T12:01:00.001-07:002014-08-24T12:01:10.674-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;">FLORIDA
RECOLLECTIONS. . . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;">I
just watched a little video about Florida Cowboys and it brought back a flood
of memories. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;">I
consider myself a dyed in the wool Colorado Native but upon contemplation I
realize that I left my home state at the age of 20 only to return to live there
a mere 3 or so years before following my husband’s rambling career that led us on
a circuit of several states, including the state of Florida.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Actually, our honeymoon, if you could call it
that, was in Florida.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
were married soon after Pearl Harbor, and my husband, a newly minted Ensign in
the US Naval Reserve,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was assigned
to basic training in Pensacola, Florida. This was in 1942.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My early impressions of Pensacola
remain vivid. The downtown area, overshadowed by the towering San Carlos Hotel,
occupied only one street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember a little movie theater with a
popcorn machine in the lobby, inhabited by cockroaches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To this day the smell of popcorn always
brings back those images.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;">I
only saw my new husband on weekends for the first 6 weeks of our marriage, but I
was happy to spend my days exploring the beaches and the surrounding
woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Several years and 4 children later we returned
to Florida, my husband as a project engineer for North American Aviation Inc.
He would participate in the development of America’s rocket program at Cape
Canaveral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was in
1956/57.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The closest we
could get on a major airline was Atlanta, Georgia, and the remainder of our
journey was achieved by feeder airlines, and we had to separate our family and
send the two oldest kids on a plane alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We finally met up together in Orlando, where we were obliged
to rent a house for a month until our household goods arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We eventually bought a house in
Melbourne. We bought an old clunker to get us from Orlando to the coast and it
is that trip that shines in my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was no Disneyland, no freeways –just beautiful green upon green
swampy grassland and scrub palms. We traveled with all the windows down, on a
two- lane road, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with a chorus of
frogs loud in our ears all the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will never ever forget the sights and sounds of that ride through
central Florida.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"> It was unbearably hot and humid, and big
white clouds gathered and darkened and poured down rain for 10 minutes and then
evaporated to let in a fierce steamy sun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"> We panted and sweated and the sweat dribbled
down inside our clothes and made puddles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"> We were being introduced to life in
Florida- hyge bugs and spiders and mosquitoes, and alligators.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"> And then there was the Atlantic Ocean—beautiful
wide, white beaches with no rip-tides, and the Inland Waterway and the
beautiful and mysterious St. John’s River.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"> We bought a little boat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;">We
were novices to all the mysteries of this new world, but God took care of
us. We bought a bigger boat. We
had many delightful voyages on the waterways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;"> I have no
trouble believing the stories of the Cracker Cowboys of Florida, even though I
never met one. But I have my own
Album of Images of Florida and I love re-playing the reels in my mind. I am glad I knew it before
civilization took away the frogs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Chalkduster;">Betty’s
Notes<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-76259071163659270792014-08-22T19:14:00.001-07:002014-08-22T19:14:10.311-07:00
<div class="page" title="Page 1">
<div class="section" style="background-color: rgb(100.000000%, 100.000000%, 100.000000%);">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">MEMORIES OF 'SWAN'S NEST'<br />
There is a place, a very special place, and it has left a mark on my
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">heart as no other place has done. Why this is so remains a mystery.<br />
Our days spent there were not many, and the time was long ago, but the
impressions go deep and in remembering, it seems like yesterday. The place
has a lovely name, SWAN'S NEST, and it began as a hideaway, built by a
mining baron back in 1898. It was a fisherman’s lodge when I knew it,
nestled in the heart of the Colorado Rockies. My mother and dad became
caretakers of the place for one or two summers back in the late '40's.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">My recollections begin with the early days of my marriage, Claude
recently out of the military and embarking on his education via the GI Bill.
We were assigned housing in Denver University's Pioneer Village, and our
baby girl, Patsy, was just born. Our son Mike was 4 years old.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">Our first visit to Swan's Nest was in August of 1947. Patsy was one
month old and Mike had just turned 4. I remember piles of river rocks all
over the place. It was an eyesore, an insult to the beautiful pastoral scene,
and the surrounding majestic mountains. These huge piles of rocks were the
result of dredging the Swan River for gold, and had just been left there.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">The huge sprawling lodge sat back a way from the rock piles, and I
soon discovered that I only had to lift my eyes to the hills in any direction,
and the rocks were forgotten. From the veranda one could see Colorado’s
entire 10 Mile Range, and more, a heart stopping sight.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">The house was of gigantic proportions. A veranda running the length
of the house, inside woodwork done in California redwood, lofty ceilings,
huge doorways and an excess of elbow room. We learned that the man who
built the house was himself of large proportions and had the house built to
his specifications. The entire house was built of California redwood--plank
flooring, wall paneling, stairs and railings. The room where we slept ̧ I
recall, had an old cooking range in it. That stands out in my mind because
the water in the teakettle froze in the night after the fire went out. This was
in August! We had to put our baby in the bed with us to keep her warm.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">Because my primary focus was on my children at the time, I failed to
register a lot of the details of the house. However, I will never forget
watching the little boys, my 3 young brothers, Bill, Dale and Jack, along
with my own 4 year old Mike, racing around the place with unbounded
energy and delight, free to throw rocks to their hearts content, their young
voices diluted in the magnificent expanse of Colorado space, unhindered. It
was a special heaven for little boys.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">At the back of the house were the meadows, and the trails and the
wild things. The river, creeks and little rills abounded with fish, and it was
there you would often find my Dad, with Dale trailing along behind, with
their fishing poles. On the trails that led into aspen copses and deep woods
</span><br />
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">would be where you were likely to find me, among the bluebells, the
paintbrush and the columbines.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">How to describe the effect of this magical place upon us all? Mostly
I remember my mother as she scrubbed sheets, and hung them on the line
out behind the house. I remember her radiance, her joy. She worked hard,
but she was in her element, at peace with herself in her mountains. I believe
my dad finally began to understand the pull of the mountains upon my
mother. He felt a strong tug as he, himself, fell victim to the magic. Those
lovely summers at Swan's Nest have had a profound effect on all of us, and
the realization has seeped slowly down through the years and taken root in
the hollows of our hearts as we remember it all over again.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">I love the image of my Mother's radiant face, the magnificence of the view
from the veranda, the pungent pine-scented air, the rocks and rills and those
eternal templed hills, and I love how I felt when I was there. The essence of
Swan’s Nest remains with me to this day.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">The words of an old favorite hymn come to my mind:
"There is a balm in Gilead, to make the wounded whole. . ."
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPS'; font-size: 13.000000pt; font-style: italic;">Swan's Nest....a balm to the soul. . .. . even in memory.
Lovingly remembered by Betty L. Owen </span><br />
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-35637958786971619502014-08-02T10:39:00.001-07:002014-08-02T10:39:56.082-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">How I became a china
painter. . .<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">August 2, 2014 at 9:12am<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Some things you are born
with, I think. I have always loved hand painted china. I remember
gazing in old china cabinets at those old plates and I still remember how I
ached at the subtle beauty of the pieces. I loved the soft,
ethereal misty colors! I felt a yearning, a longing that I could
not explain then, nor can I explain that feeling now. It was magical to
me! I thought it must be a lost art. I had no idea that I could
learn to do it myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
When my youngest daughter JaneAnn was in first grade she was in a little
kids band. She played a Xylophone. At the end of the year the kids
were invited to play at the Adult Education Culmination Display Program at the
school. I wandered around looking into all the rooms at the
exhibits --cake decorating, oil painting, water colors etc....and lo and behold
I discovered a group of ladies doing CHINA PAINTING! It was a
shining moment, and a changing day in my life. It was my epiphany! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
My teacher was Margaret Sweitzer, and she was endlessly patient with my
blundering brush strokes, but I believe she could perceive my passion, and she
encouraged me. I struggled on. China painting is dependent
totally on learning to control the brush strokes, loading the paint so that the
little leaf will be shaded ...just so. My stems looked like fence posts
at first, so said Mrs. Sweitzer, but she showed me once again. . . . She said,
Betty, the corner of your brush is your drawing corner. . . .I remember her saying
that!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">One day she stood me up
before the whole class and held up my plate and announced: "Betty
is developing her own unique style"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I bought a kiln, and
ordered a supply of china blanks. I went to seminars, and attended
the big shows in Los Angeles and I watched the famous china painters
paint, and gradually I learned, and I painted, and painted and painted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Betty L. Owen,
Notes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/cbashara"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Chandra Bashara</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> and </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jack Sanderson</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> like this.
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<span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
</span><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Remove
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</span></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson?fref=ufi"><b><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jack Sanderson</span></b></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> We
all have a piece of your china and value it dearly
</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/betty-l-owen/how-i-became-a-china-painter-/10154414133150304?comment_id=10154414209755304&offset=0&total_comments=1"><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1 hr</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> · </span><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Unlike</span><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> · </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/browse/likes?id=10154414209755304"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
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<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">How I became a china
painter. . .</span></b></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">August 2, 2014 at 9:12am<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Some things you are born
with, I think. I have always loved hand painted china. I remember
gazing in old china cabinets at those old plates and I still remember how I
ached at the subtle beauty of the pieces. I loved the soft,
ethereal misty colors! I felt a yearning, a longing that I could
not explain then, nor can I explain that feeling now. It was magical to
me! I thought it must be a lost art. I had no idea that I could
learn to do it myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
When my youngest daughter JaneAnn was in first grade she was in a little
kids band. She played a Xylophone. At the end of the year the kids
were invited to play at the Adult Education Culmination Display Program at the
school. I wandered around looking into all the rooms at the
exhibits --cake decorating, oil painting, water colors etc....and lo and behold
I discovered a group of ladies doing CHINA PAINTING! It was a
shining moment, and a changing day in my life. It was my epiphany! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
My teacher was Margaret Sweitzer, and she was endlessly patient with my
blundering brush strokes, but I believe she could perceive my passion, and she
encouraged me. I struggled on. China painting is dependent
totally on learning to control the brush strokes, loading the paint so that the
little leaf will be shaded ...just so. My stems looked like fence posts
at first, so said Mrs. Sweitzer, but she showed me once again. . . . She said,
Betty, the corner of your brush is your drawing corner. . . .I remember her saying
that!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">One day she stood me up
before the whole class and held up my plate and announced: "Betty
is developing her own unique style"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I bought a kiln, and
ordered a supply of china blanks. I went to seminars, and attended
the big shows in Los Angeles and I watched the famous china painters
paint, and gradually I learned, and I painted, and painted and painted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Betty L. Owen,
Notes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/cbashara"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Chandra Bashara</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> and </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jack Sanderson</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> like this.
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<span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
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</span></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson?fref=ufi"><b><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jack Sanderson</span></b></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> We
all have a piece of your china and value it dearly
</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/betty-l-owen/how-i-became-a-china-painter-/10154414133150304?comment_id=10154414209755304&offset=0&total_comments=1"><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1 hr</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> · </span><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Unlike</span><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> · </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/browse/likes?id=10154414209755304"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
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<span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">How I became a china
painter. . .</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">August 2, 2014 at 9:12am<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Some things you are born
with, I think. I have always loved hand painted china. I remember
gazing in old china cabinets at those old plates and I still remember how I
ached at the subtle beauty of the pieces. I loved the soft,
ethereal misty colors! I felt a yearning, a longing that I could
not explain then, nor can I explain that feeling now. It was magical to
me! I thought it must be a lost art. I had no idea that I could
learn to do it myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
When my youngest daughter JaneAnn was in first grade she was in a little
kids band. She played a Xylophone. At the end of the year the kids
were invited to play at the Adult Education Culmination Display Program at the
school. I wandered around looking into all the rooms at the
exhibits --cake decorating, oil painting, water colors etc....and lo and behold
I discovered a group of ladies doing CHINA PAINTING! It was a
shining moment, and a changing day in my life. It was my epiphany! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
My teacher was Margaret Sweitzer, and she was endlessly patient with my
blundering brush strokes, but I believe she could perceive my passion, and she
encouraged me. I struggled on. China painting is dependent
totally on learning to control the brush strokes, loading the paint so that the
little leaf will be shaded ...just so. My stems looked like fence posts
at first, so said Mrs. Sweitzer, but she showed me once again. . . . She said,
Betty, the corner of your brush is your drawing corner. . . .I remember her saying
that!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">One day she stood me up
before the whole class and held up my plate and announced: "Betty
is developing her own unique style"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I bought a kiln, and
ordered a supply of china blanks. I went to seminars, and attended
the big shows in Los Angeles and I watched the famous china painters
paint, and gradually I learned, and I painted, and painted and painted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Betty L. Owen,
Notes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/cbashara"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Chandra Bashara</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> and </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jack Sanderson</span></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> like this.
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<span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson?fref=ufi"><span style="color: #2d4486; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
</span><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Remove
<span style="color: #10131a;">
</span></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/johntsanderson?fref=ufi"><b><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Jack Sanderson</span></b></a><span style="color: #10131a; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> We
all have a piece of your china and value it dearly
</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/betty-l-owen/how-i-became-a-china-painter-/10154414133150304?comment_id=10154414209755304&offset=0&total_comments=1"><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1 hr</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> · </span><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Unlike</span><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> · </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/browse/likes?id=10154414209755304"><span style="color: #2d4486; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">1</span></a><span style="color: #7f8592; font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-18220378050360102182014-06-18T09:37:00.001-07:002014-06-18T09:37:41.236-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">SENTIMENTAL
JOURNEY HOME<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">June
2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">I
remember the time when the very idea of traveling would send me into ecstasies
of excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was young
then and now as I approach my 92 birthday, it is another story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Not
only has air travel become a nightmare, but just figuring out how to pack your
suitcase has become a national security issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Consequently, I do not enjoy traveling any more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked upon the
trip to Colorado with mixed feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was to be a family reunion, but over the event hung the gloom of the
recent passing of a dear family member, and another lay dying in the last
stages of cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought
of the many faces that would be missing around the table, and I knew that soon I
would be saying goodbye to my dear sister-in-law, Faye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As my plane hove into
the dry crackling air over Reno, Nevada and I gazed down on the parched and
thirsty hills, I wondered if the Western regions of the country would ever
again be blessed with abundant rain and a heavy snow pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The climate change seems to have left
us high and dry, while other states are inundated with floods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recovering from last years
devastating floods and fires, Colorado has been blessed this year with good
rains and heavy snows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grass on the hillsides lay like soft
velvet and bright new leaves on the aspens quivered in the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything was fresh and wonderfully
fragrant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart rejoiced
in the sights…the sounds….the aromas. . . . . .and my heart lifted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights of the
Woodland Inn were welcoming to this weary traveler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the place where the family gathers, and to me
a home away from home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My room
at the Inn is familiar as my own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
view out the window…..Pikes Peak still reigns… and awes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">I
take a deep breath and the tense muscles begin to relax.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">I
am home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next
few days will be full, and I wonder if my stamina will be equal to the tasks
ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I silently send up my
supplications.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
reunion is scheduled for June 7, and will be at Cinzetti’s—an Italian cafeteria
-style place of grand proportions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is located near Brighton, northeast of Denver a few miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a two –hour plus <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>drive from Woodland Park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the course of the 5 days of my
sojourn I would make this drive 4 times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Susan drives a little Priius so gas was not a big issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nevertheless, traffic can
be a big problem getting through downtown Denver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Faye had been holding up remarkably well and had attended Ilona’s
funeral service a week earlier, but she became dangerously ill on the night of
he 6<sup>th</sup>, and Dale had to call hospice for assistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were afraid he would miss the
reunion, but they were able to stabilize Faye, and Dale showed up at the last
minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked very
stressed and exhausted but seemed to relax and calm himself, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">as
he mingled with the crowd, and he sat and ate a plate of food<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
always good to be among people who know each other, who have the same memories,
laugh at the same jokes, and who remember that we all were once younger and
prettier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a wonderful
gathering, and I hugged people I had not seen for years, and time stopped for a
while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since my main
reason for making this trip was to see Faye, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">I
was very distressed about her. The strain and exhaustion on my brother’s face
was showing and I was concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My brother Jack shared my concern and we decided that we would make a
special drive to Dale’s house in Loveland the next day so that I could see her.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew this would be
our last farewell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It would be a wonderful thing if the mind had a ‘delete’ button to erase
the unwanted images that are imprinted there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shock of seeing my lovely sister-in-law in the
grip of that terrible disease was profound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But amazingly, as we held each other, and I looked
into that beautiful ravaged face, her eyes were clear as a mountain lake, and
out of them I could see, shining out,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>the beauty of her spirit, and I was comforted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Written
with love, Betty L. Owen<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>June 2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15604570632259338138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813162408740878216.post-68552307757613143542014-06-01T11:00:00.002-07:002014-06-01T11:34:13.424-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">No room at the Inn.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 24.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">For all the years we lived
in</span><span style="color: #767c8a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="font-size: medium;">California, the annual
safari back to our home state of Colorado had become a tradition.
Visiting Grandma and Grandpa was a total delight and a grand
adventure for all the children in the family. Grandma's house was high
in the mountains in the little mining town of Alma. Out on the back of
the property was "Jack's Shack', an old log structure made weather
proof, and furnished with </span><span style="font-size: 19px;">several beds and cots.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> The shack held the overflow guests
and separated the kids from the grown-ups. There were shelves of books
and games and lots of pillows and heavy quilts to pile on when the North wind
blew and the temperatures dropped.</span></span><span style="color: #767c8a; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">This was where the family
gathered for reunions and Thanksgivings, and the years piled up, thick with
memories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">But Grandparents become
frail, and the time came when it was necessary to move them down to a lower
altitude. The family found them a little cottage in Salida where the
snows were not so deep, the ground more level and the sun shone down warm on winter
days. The family still found Grandma and Grandpa's house a perfect gathering
place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
Our children grew and left the nest but Claude and I still
made the trip each summer. Roles were reversed now, however, as Grandma
had boycotted the kitchen and advised the family that they were welcome but
should not expect to be waited on. She took up residence in her rocking
chair. Grandpa was failing and would spend his last days in a nursing
home. It was not the same. Claude and I spent our vacation time
doing jobs around the place that needed doing. </span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">We were glad to
be able to help and I spent some quality time with my aging parents.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
Then they were gone. Salida had become the family hub, and
without Grandma's house we had no place to tie the horse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> Our
traditional summer safaris suddenly had no purpose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
We both had family in Colorado, many relatives we wanted to see,
but without Grandma's house as a hub, we felt strangely adrift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">We always traveled with
our little dog Scrappy. She felt safe and secure in the back seat of our
car, or on her corner of the couch in the camper, but she, too, was growing
old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">NO ROOM AT THE INN!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> SCRAPPY was
14 years old on that fateful summer, and had recently undergone dental surgery. Her health was fragile, but she loved traveling with us.</span><br />
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> Everyone we had planned to see was either out of town or had other obligations.
Donna, Claude's sister and husband Art had had to draw the line on overnight visitors--they lived 13
stories up in the old Park Lane Hotel and had limited space. We rented
guest quarters in the Park Lane Motel facility while visiting there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> It
was a really hot summer and the heat was getting to our frail little Scrappy.
We could see she was suffering and we had to find a vet. We were
informed that her kidneys were failing. We had to make that sad, awful
choice--away from home, in a strange place, all alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">
That strange, lonely summer left me with a feeling of total
abandonment. I felt I had lost my anchor.. and worse..... that nobody cared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"> I have never been
able to think of those days without that lost empty feeling washing over me. I missed Mother and Dad. I missed the place in Salida. I
missed my scattered family. I really missed my little dog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Betty L. Owen ( Remembering at 2 am) (Notes
2014)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; text-indent: -0.5in;"><span style="color: #767c8a;">Write a comment...</span><span style="color: #10131a;">
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/bettylo"><span style="color: #2d4486; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></a></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Manual-High-School/108146615886655"><b><span style="color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: auto; text-underline: none;">Manual
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