Baby Dolls and Moonlight

Big full moon, twinkling summer stars all shining down on the gravel road. Sometimes, a slight breeze in the air, sometimes just plain 'ol sticky hot!! Not that IT mattered, however. We were teenagers with a passion for the Beach Boys, late movies and our horses!
Yes, our horses. Some of my high school 'buds' loved horses...a few had horses...a few LVHS folks probably rode bulls and stuff in local rodeos. I didn't know them, but I'm sure they were around.
One of my 'bestest' friends ever, Francine had the same pure, passionate love for horses that I had. She lived in Bellmead and I lived in the country. Our moms knew each other, thus we became friends and to this day, doesn't matter how many weeks, months or years pass...if we call or see one another when I'm in Waco, it's as if no time had elapsed!
A man lived just off Bellmead drive and had a few horse stalls behind his house. Many days, you would see this tiny, gorgeous little Shetland Pony staked out back! Didn't take Fran long to befriend the man and before I knew IT, she was ridin' that little guy! Uh, she was 'exercising' the pony for his owner! NOT! She was lovin' that little horse too death for HER!!
As we grew older, became teenagers, she finally got her first beautiful colt, JOE! He was a striking man...nice to look at and did he ever get trained by one of the best. She kept Joe at her grampa's place not too for from the elementary school. I'd drop by now and again to see his progress and brag like a Texan on him!!
Now, her grampa had a garden near the pen where Joe lived. One summer day I stopped in to visit and he had placed an electric wire around the garden. He was having difficulty with critters and dogs and this and that. But, he told me he had taken care of it all. I said, "wow, that electric fence must really work well." He replied, "yep, it does." "All you have to do is straighten out metal coat hangers, wrap one end around the electric fence and attach a good 'ol hot dog to the other!'
Y EEE O W!! Hey, it worked, and made him a happy man. Me, I never set foot in his garden!! And not even I would have gone for the hot dog!!! Hey, ya have to have mustard to eat those!
Even though Fran had big 'ol Joe, we rarely met on the roads to ride together, but I had two friends from Connally High School who pastured their horses at Shorty Davis's place near the aiport.
Chrissy, the Major-General's daughter had a huge, dark red mare that her dad got for $1500! Whoa! Back then, we bought a horse for $125 and thought that was kinda high! Lolol...
Linda, was more my speed...she rode a little yearling buckskin mare that may have cost $50!!! Regardless, we were three and we all had a steed!
My gelding then was "Texas"...a beautiful paint horse that had the typical 'paint eyes' that mesmorized you when you gazed into them. He was a good 'ol boy and could outrun any of those other horses! ('tween you and me, I think it was due to the rider!)
During the summer, Chris and Linda would ride out to the farm. We'd hook up and wander all over God's creation until supper time. Then, we'd slip the horses in the calf pasture so we could go eat and watch tv or play games. Linda always brought the infamous Beach Boy album and we'd nearly wear it out as night progressed!
Around midnight, after mother and daddy were 'long gone' to sleepy land, we'd slip out the back door, bridle the horses and jump on bareback! The moon would be full and gently light the pathway on the road. We, of course, would be in our baby doll jammies, acting like we were sane! NOT!
But, back then, it was safe. You could roam around, enjoy life and feel pretty ok about it. We would stroll on our horses sharing our woes and goes...and, finally around 3 a.m., we'd head to the house and end the moonlight ride.
That was just fun. And, we did other fun things, like go to PLaydays with our horses. Well, when we could get my dad to haul us and drop us. It was hard for him to get away with all the routine of cows and milking and stuff.
One Sunday afternoon, my dad was going to haul us to Axtell to a Playday. We were so excited! Then, wham! Something happened, he couldn't do it. We had the cattle trailer ready, open air, just a trailer with four wheels.
Sooo, Chris called her dad...THE MAJOR-GENERAL JOHN C. MEYERS, Commander of Connally Air Force Base! She pleaded our case and much to his 'shigrin' here he came, ambling up our long, gravel driveway. He went into over drive SHOCK!
The aroma of the dairy wafting through the air greeted him. His perfect, loaded streamline Cadillac had some dust on it from the roads...and it took everything inside him to go ahead and take us. He let his 'Chrissy' know he WAS NOT PLEASED...he would pull us, leave the trailer and he was DONE.
Fine, she said to him, "there's the trailer right there." Kaaa Whaaam. The look on his face and those steel gray eyes, that pierced through your skin, were flashing. He said, "Chrissy, are you out of your mind?" She replied, "No, dad, it works."
He reluctantly circled the white goose and backed into place. We dropped the hitch down, latched it on and jumped in the back seat after the horses were loaded and tied down. He was so pppp ut out!! You see, the cattle trailer had wooden boards that made the sides and gate. When you haul cattle, they get nervous.
When they get nervous, they show it in a particular way. Their way splashes and plops on the trailer and dries in place!! I know, sort of gruesome if you're a Major-General! (hee hee)
He pulled us there, unhitched us and he was history, in a big cloud of dust!
My dad came late that afternoon and took us home. Daddy was my hero. He was there. And, he and mother were there throughout life!
Nah, no great mystery to this story, just some funny, enjoyable memories of life on the farm. Next time I call a Major-General to haul something for me though, I might clean the trailer...IF, I GIT A ROUND TUIT!!!

"Sticky" Situations

It was September and my time for birthday bashin'. My brother, eight years older, was so excellent at planning a party, celebration, entertainment and other stuff. He took it upon himself to plan this particular party. We lived in the big house on the hill and had a huge yard and front porch.
I don't recall how many friends came, but there were several of us running around. And, games, games and more games. Jim had called on some of his Baylor fraternity brothers to assist in the grand occasion, so we were rompin' and stompin'!
We had hoola hoop contests, relay races (sittin' on balloons and poppin' 'em), tug of war and tons of other stuff. One of my gifts from mother and daddy, a volleyball set. I was so excited because I knew I was going to become a champion at the game!!
Jim and Don Simon were going to set the net up in the yard...I was running around tossing the new, shiny ball in the air dreaming of stardom!
Suddenly, Jim yelled, "Pat, throw me the ball..." as he stood on the edge of the big porch. I didn't realize it, but he was carrying the poles to stick in the ground for net support. I hurled that ball like a pro and he caught it like a brother! Whoosh...zzzzz...the ball was stuck on the end of the stick. Dead. Done for. Gone. As I wailed, he and the other 'big guys' rolled in laughter! Who knew, number one that he could catch the dumb ball and on the sharp end of a long stick!
That debacle made their day, but it almost ruined mine. I learned a good lesson via a lot of pain. Pay attention to what others have in their hands and don't be so fast to REACT!!!
Incidents like that one helped sharpen my keen eye and sense of awareness. You can't react to any situation without pausing at least fifteen seconds and thinking!! Ready, Fire, Aim will getcha every time.
Having that lesson at an early age, most likely prepared me for days in the classroom. My first year teaching in the Humble District was at Humble Middle School, health education. Humble had battled for a couple of years prior to my arrival for the right to teach IT! Yep. IT! S E X E D U C A T I O N!!! Hello?
As my department chair, Lynette Calfee was calling roll on a bright, cheery day (second day of the infamous sex education unit)...a young lady raised her hand, Lynette said, "yes, Shanikwa, what is it?" The girl replied, "Ms. Calfee, what is 'ohh rule' sex???" Lynette froze in shock..thinking, what am I gonna do now, in front of 28 other inquisitive 8th graders.
Before she could say anything, a friend of Shanikwa's jumped up, slapped her hand on her desk and said, "I tell you what IT is..." Calfee sucked air deep into her lungs..."it's when you DOES IT and TALKS at the same time!" Lynette sighed, immediately said, 'that's right, now everyone turn to page...'
That was one of the funniest near disaster stories from the good 'ol health education days. We laughed over that one for years and still do when we get together!
Bottom line...be prepared. Think and don't react...and always have a 'way out' or a plan! For me, a necessity for the future! How 'bout you...do ya talk when...nah, just kidding!

Hunters To Your Mark

Living in the country enabled us and all the relatives with an interest in hunting to participate and bag their quota! Yah...right! Well, it allowed everyone the opportunity to shoot at the birds as they passed and take home some very bruised arms due to the 'kick' in the butt of the shotgun!
Dove season on the farm was a big deal. Every Labor Day ushered the beginning at 1 p.m. and every Labor Day we had the guns cleaned, boxes of shells and we were in control!!
Ye Old Gray Fox used to appear every year on that special weekend with his eyes set on the goal. Kill a bird. His name was Uncle Walter. He had lived in Houston all of his life, for many years, sold carpet to people all over Houston and had been retired for many, many years. He was very close to his sisters, including "Cille", my mom. Walter was very suave and debonair...he had style and a personality to charm a rattler.
When he came, we began gathering 'padding'. Why? For his right shoulder, of course. He never invested in a shotgun, he only used it once a year. So, when he came, he used my dad's pump 12 gauge. That gun kicked like an old mule with nothing else to do. If you didn't 'snug her up real tight into your shoulder' she'd knock your shoulder under you armpit!! True.
So, here we went on Labor Day morning. Walter was our City Slicker come to the country. Mother worked on him and padded and taped and padded and taped until he appeared to have a gigantic growth on his right shoulder. We'd all laugh about it, take photos and off we'd go to the north pasture.
Daddy let the giant Sunflowers grow into September for the season. Doves loved it, it provided 'hide out' status for the hunter and embellished the entire event. You just had to be careful not to shoot the other hunters!! We would disappear and hunt all day. Did we get our limit? NOT. But, we were serious hunters with a purpose...my purpose was to kill at least one or two birds! LOLOLOL
By the end of the day when we were done, so was his shoulder. When he took the padding away we all would respond with a big 'oooohhhhhh'....it was blue, black, yellow, green and sometimes a touch of purple. He pounded that shoulder to a pulp, but he truly enjoyed the experience. We'd put a big 'ol ice pack on it and move to the yard to grill steaks!
Remember? Dairy farm, home raised beef? 300 pounds of beef in the freezer always. While the rest of America dined on bologna, we made tough choices...Ribeye or Strip? Mannn, those were the days!
Walter truly showed dedication and tenacity! He was determined to come, hunt, bruise and go home with a trophy! That was his marbleized shoulder. It didn't matter if he got one dove or the limit. It mattered that he had family who loved him, days of sharing stories and good food and one more opportunity to spend time with one of his sisters! That was life.
I wish to have his level of determination and focus to reach my new mark in life. He's just one individual in life who played an important part in shaping my life. Each time I was privileged to share stories with him, he was serving as a major role model for moi and I was oblivious to that. You see there was so much more to living in the country than just the country.
We were a stronghold of good family, fun things to do and a haven for those who came to just get away from the fast pace of life. Thus, the reason I spend time thinking of all the experiences I had as kid, growing up with the wind blowing through my hair.
Regardless of age today...we are all role models for someone. Be the best you can possibly be and, if they need some cushion wrapped around 'em for some reason, step up and offer to help. It's an investment in mental and emotional happiness!