Friday, May 19, 2006
All is Well in Paradise
During 45 years of my marrried life I lived in Childress County, Texas where my husband was born and raised. I had never thought about the possibility of living anywhere else until he mentioned moving to the mountains at retirement. Threats of tornadoes were the norm whenever clouds appeared on the horizon, especially during the spring. That area is known - for good reason - as "tornado alley".
A necessary part of any farmer's day is watching the weather reports, and when the Amarillo TV stations got modern radar equipment, we could see clouds forming over the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. steadily growing as they moved eastward and entered the Texas Panhandle, often developing funnel clouds that usually contained large hail, also. Harry would anxiously pace the floor as our year's work and investment was pounded into the ground by hail, sometimes as big as softballs.
Although our daughter and son-in-law, Molly and Tony, had lived in Albuquerque for many years, I didn't realize the full extent of the weather situation until after we moved. Besides the all-around best climate I've seen anywhere, there are almost no tornadoes, and the only hail I've seen is about pea size, like Texas sleet.
The difference was made very clear last week when the city of Childress, Texas was hit by a tornado, followed by rain, hail and high winds clocked at 110 mph, uprooting hundred-year-old trees, leaving more than $5,000,000 worth of damage in its wake. Miraculously, one broken arm was the only injury reported.
Today I'm very happy to tell the world: All is well here in paradise, the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico, the High Desert where weather begins.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
A necessary part of any farmer's day is watching the weather reports, and when the Amarillo TV stations got modern radar equipment, we could see clouds forming over the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. steadily growing as they moved eastward and entered the Texas Panhandle, often developing funnel clouds that usually contained large hail, also. Harry would anxiously pace the floor as our year's work and investment was pounded into the ground by hail, sometimes as big as softballs.
Although our daughter and son-in-law, Molly and Tony, had lived in Albuquerque for many years, I didn't realize the full extent of the weather situation until after we moved. Besides the all-around best climate I've seen anywhere, there are almost no tornadoes, and the only hail I've seen is about pea size, like Texas sleet.
The difference was made very clear last week when the city of Childress, Texas was hit by a tornado, followed by rain, hail and high winds clocked at 110 mph, uprooting hundred-year-old trees, leaving more than $5,000,000 worth of damage in its wake. Miraculously, one broken arm was the only injury reported.
Today I'm very happy to tell the world: All is well here in paradise, the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico, the High Desert where weather begins.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Happenstance
Marten sat down at my table and asked, "Have you written a book?" He was a new visitor to Southwest Writers, with a wonderful story to tell, which just "happened" to be akin to my own book, Absence of Grief.
After drinking liquor since the age of 11, being diagnosed as bipolar and taking medicines that did more harm than good, Marten finally sobered up 13 years ago and found that all his stinking thinking had cleared up. No manic/depression.
Barely educated enough to read and write simple words, he enrolled in an adult literacy course, learning to read by writing, and began working on his memoirs. He started his own publishing company, is now on the board of the literacy council, is beginning a new career of motivational speaking, and his book will be available this summer. Being in awe of his whole new life change, he reminds me of my Harry who was so thankful every day for the last 18 peaceful years he was on earth.
At another Southwest Writers meeting, a lady announced her book signing, passing out bookmarks for advertising. Her book, When Death Touches You, tells how to use writing to deal with grief, which seemed to be a companion to my writing experience. We even had the same publisher.
Isn't it funny how these things just "happen"? Someone has said, "Coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous."
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
After drinking liquor since the age of 11, being diagnosed as bipolar and taking medicines that did more harm than good, Marten finally sobered up 13 years ago and found that all his stinking thinking had cleared up. No manic/depression.
Barely educated enough to read and write simple words, he enrolled in an adult literacy course, learning to read by writing, and began working on his memoirs. He started his own publishing company, is now on the board of the literacy council, is beginning a new career of motivational speaking, and his book will be available this summer. Being in awe of his whole new life change, he reminds me of my Harry who was so thankful every day for the last 18 peaceful years he was on earth.
At another Southwest Writers meeting, a lady announced her book signing, passing out bookmarks for advertising. Her book, When Death Touches You, tells how to use writing to deal with grief, which seemed to be a companion to my writing experience. We even had the same publisher.
Isn't it funny how these things just "happen"? Someone has said, "Coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous."
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Simplicity at Its Finest
The beautifully xeroscaped courtyard of the Unitarian Church was the perfect site for the late afternoon wedding of Steve and Sharon, proof positive that simplicity is the highest form of taste. A friend with his acoustic guitar made all the music necessary as the small crowd gathered, carried out chairs and enjoyed the perfect high desert weather. With the sun slipping slowly toward the horizon, Sharon's daughter Lisa read the lovely poem she had written about their special love.
On Monday Sharon had been trimming trees and thinking about a wedding sometime in the near future, something simple, perhaps a couple of witnesses before a JP. Tuesday she was planning a full-blown wedding for Saturday, as family from Indiana wanted to come. Wednesday she handed me a computer generated invitation to the short nuptials and the celebration at their home across the road from my house.
Delicious food served in the small kitchen was carried out to the deck and eaten on the handsome table and chairs Sharon recently made, or in the gazebo where she and Lisa had laid the tile floor. Although she had requested "no gifts", a thoughful neighbor had brought her a board for the beginning of her next project. In it she could see the seeds of a new porch swing.
Love and best wishes to this very down-to-earth, happy couple and their two cute "kids," Chopin and Hyde.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
On Monday Sharon had been trimming trees and thinking about a wedding sometime in the near future, something simple, perhaps a couple of witnesses before a JP. Tuesday she was planning a full-blown wedding for Saturday, as family from Indiana wanted to come. Wednesday she handed me a computer generated invitation to the short nuptials and the celebration at their home across the road from my house.
Delicious food served in the small kitchen was carried out to the deck and eaten on the handsome table and chairs Sharon recently made, or in the gazebo where she and Lisa had laid the tile floor. Although she had requested "no gifts", a thoughful neighbor had brought her a board for the beginning of her next project. In it she could see the seeds of a new porch swing.
Love and best wishes to this very down-to-earth, happy couple and their two cute "kids," Chopin and Hyde.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Adventure - Past and Present
Meeting my two sisters and Doris, a friend of Peg's, in Quitaque for a hen party turned out to be a great adventure. We quickly adopted Doris as a new sister and spent a couple of hours Friday night trying to sing four-part Gospel harmony. Saturday was Bob Wills Day in Turkey, maybe ten miles to the east, and we were there that morning in time for the parade down Main Street. Several former members of the Texas Playboys (Bob Wills' band), occupied one of the floats, and there were the usual pretty girls, kids on 4-wheelers, antique vehicles and horseback riders. One of my classmates from the Flomot Senior Class of 1954, Ronald Clay and his wife Wadie, my special buddy in high school sports, drove two old John Deere tractors, affectionately known as Popping Johnnies back in the '40s.
At noon we arrived at the Bob Wills Center, the old gym where we often played basketball in olden times, to enjoy the Old Fiddlers Contest, which had more young-uns than elders, all playing their hearts out. Then out to the football field for a concert by the afore-mentioned Texas Playboys, still making foot-stomping music. Rainy weather chased a few off to their cars, but we native Texans were well prepared with an umbrella, blankets, straw hats, sun glasses, water, food - all of which we needed before the music stopped.
A younger group of pickers, Jody Nix and the Texas Cowboys, played for the dance that night, a very enjoyable group of musicians even though they had no keyboard or guitars except for the electric bass. The well-behaved audience had a toe-tapping good time.
The hen party broke up on Sunday after church services at Flomot, Peg returning Doris to her home in Lubbock, then on to Pecos in far West Texas. Mary headed for a daughter's home in Amarillo for a short visit before her trip back to San Angelo. I did some cleaning of the borrowed house and yard in Quitaque, visited my son's family in Lubbock a few days, then returned for the Country Music Jamboree Saturday.
With storm clouds looming in the area, the jamboree site was switched from the renovated Gem Theater downtown to the gym, where there was room for the delicious brisket-bean-potato salad supper without risking disaster in the open patio next door to the theater. Hopefully, a few of these fund raisers will pay for a new roof soon and do away with that problem.
After I presented Lawana Cruse's poem/song, an old school friend in the audience asked one of the ladies if that was really the Cora Gail Gunn he went to school with. She took me back and "introduced " us, and even then it was hard to recognize Rex Johnson without his bright red hair and thick glasses. We had a wonderful visit, making the long drive and longer wait for the jamboree worth every minute and mile. I loaded him up with copies of my books and promised to let him know the next time brother Jerry is back in the area. They had played sports and music together in those bygone days that become more precious through the years.
Every time I attend the jamboree, the entertainment seems to keep improving. It's much more fun to me than listening to professionals, especially with several old friends in the audience and band. I came home rejuvenated and anxious to get back to my normal routine. The past is fun to visit, but the here-and-now is a constant adventure.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
At noon we arrived at the Bob Wills Center, the old gym where we often played basketball in olden times, to enjoy the Old Fiddlers Contest, which had more young-uns than elders, all playing their hearts out. Then out to the football field for a concert by the afore-mentioned Texas Playboys, still making foot-stomping music. Rainy weather chased a few off to their cars, but we native Texans were well prepared with an umbrella, blankets, straw hats, sun glasses, water, food - all of which we needed before the music stopped.
A younger group of pickers, Jody Nix and the Texas Cowboys, played for the dance that night, a very enjoyable group of musicians even though they had no keyboard or guitars except for the electric bass. The well-behaved audience had a toe-tapping good time.
The hen party broke up on Sunday after church services at Flomot, Peg returning Doris to her home in Lubbock, then on to Pecos in far West Texas. Mary headed for a daughter's home in Amarillo for a short visit before her trip back to San Angelo. I did some cleaning of the borrowed house and yard in Quitaque, visited my son's family in Lubbock a few days, then returned for the Country Music Jamboree Saturday.
With storm clouds looming in the area, the jamboree site was switched from the renovated Gem Theater downtown to the gym, where there was room for the delicious brisket-bean-potato salad supper without risking disaster in the open patio next door to the theater. Hopefully, a few of these fund raisers will pay for a new roof soon and do away with that problem.
After I presented Lawana Cruse's poem/song, an old school friend in the audience asked one of the ladies if that was really the Cora Gail Gunn he went to school with. She took me back and "introduced " us, and even then it was hard to recognize Rex Johnson without his bright red hair and thick glasses. We had a wonderful visit, making the long drive and longer wait for the jamboree worth every minute and mile. I loaded him up with copies of my books and promised to let him know the next time brother Jerry is back in the area. They had played sports and music together in those bygone days that become more precious through the years.
Every time I attend the jamboree, the entertainment seems to keep improving. It's much more fun to me than listening to professionals, especially with several old friends in the audience and band. I came home rejuvenated and anxious to get back to my normal routine. The past is fun to visit, but the here-and-now is a constant adventure.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Monday, May 08, 2006
Lubbock, Texas
On I-27 between Amarillo and Lubbock is a fancy new rest stop that offers a storm shelter, not a bad idea for this area. I keep telling myself I won't be visiting here during this stormy time of year, but spring just seems to be when everything is happening. Sure nuff, the weather this week is almost identical to last year when I was here making dresses for a wedding: wind, rain, hail and tornado sightings. And again I'm sewing bridesmaid dresses.
Lubbock may be the sandstorm capitol of Texas (except for tiny Estelline), and some alien from the EPA was once in town during this regular movement of topsoil. "This is just unacceptable," he says. "We have to do something about this polution!" He must have been outvoted from higher up, because the sand still blows as always after a hard rain, cotton still grows in large quantities, and people breathing dust are about as healthy as ever.
Traffic in Lubbock is diverted from downtown by a highway that circles the city, providing easy access to residential areas, businesses and college campuses. Like most Texas cities, it keeps growing mainly toward the west. Why is that, you reckon?
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Lubbock may be the sandstorm capitol of Texas (except for tiny Estelline), and some alien from the EPA was once in town during this regular movement of topsoil. "This is just unacceptable," he says. "We have to do something about this polution!" He must have been outvoted from higher up, because the sand still blows as always after a hard rain, cotton still grows in large quantities, and people breathing dust are about as healthy as ever.
Traffic in Lubbock is diverted from downtown by a highway that circles the city, providing easy access to residential areas, businesses and college campuses. Like most Texas cities, it keeps growing mainly toward the west. Why is that, you reckon?
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Friday, May 05, 2006
Turkey, Texas
When my grandpa, Lycurgus Aurelius Gunn, brought his family west from Bell County around 1900, he first settled in Hall County at Wolf Flat near the little town of Turkey Roost, so named for the many wild turkeys that inhabited the trees in the area at night . Later the named was shortened to Turkey.
Being only a stone's throw from Quitaque, the two schools were serious rivals in sports until the dwindling populations threatened loss of accreditation. Putting aside their combative past, they joined hands and consolidated their efforts to form a new place of learning about half way between, called Valley School, an outstanding facility.
The 400 or so people of Turkey have also put their cooperative spirits to work in retaining some of their history and making it pay off to help keep the little town alive. Their most famous citizen, Bob Wills, the King of Western Swing, is remembered each year with a week of country music jam sessions, climaxed on Saturday with a parade, fiddlers contest, a concert featuring the few remaining members of his Texas Playboys, and a dance in the Bob Wills Center which was once the school house. Several rooms have been converted into a museum containing memorabilia from his glory days. Thousands of people come every year to join the celebration.
While playing for dances in the area and slowly developing his unique style, Bob worked as a barber in Turkey, and the little shop there has been kept in about the same shape at it was back then. Its owner, Harold Ham, has been unable to work since being injured in a car wreck about 10 years ago, but this year his daughter, a beautician, kept the shop open all week. She gave me a haircut and did a great job.
One of Turkey's hardest working citizens was Lawana Cruse, who had always dreamed of owning the old Gem Theater, long closed and in disrepair. She and her sister-in-law, Marie Cruse, bought it, donated it to the city and began the refurbishing process, doing all the necessary paperwork and organization to obtain grants and other money-raising schemes to make this dream a reality. Despite the many nay-sayers, the Gem is now a beautiful place to hold the monthly Country Music Jamboree and other forms of entertainment, including ballet from Amarillo. Lawana died in a car wreck a few years ago, but Marie and another sister-in-law, Tommie Jo Cruse and a handful of others have kept her dream alive and well.
Saturday night at the jamboree in Turkey, I plan to sing a poem Lawana wrote about Bob Wills. Yall come!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Being only a stone's throw from Quitaque, the two schools were serious rivals in sports until the dwindling populations threatened loss of accreditation. Putting aside their combative past, they joined hands and consolidated their efforts to form a new place of learning about half way between, called Valley School, an outstanding facility.
The 400 or so people of Turkey have also put their cooperative spirits to work in retaining some of their history and making it pay off to help keep the little town alive. Their most famous citizen, Bob Wills, the King of Western Swing, is remembered each year with a week of country music jam sessions, climaxed on Saturday with a parade, fiddlers contest, a concert featuring the few remaining members of his Texas Playboys, and a dance in the Bob Wills Center which was once the school house. Several rooms have been converted into a museum containing memorabilia from his glory days. Thousands of people come every year to join the celebration.
While playing for dances in the area and slowly developing his unique style, Bob worked as a barber in Turkey, and the little shop there has been kept in about the same shape at it was back then. Its owner, Harold Ham, has been unable to work since being injured in a car wreck about 10 years ago, but this year his daughter, a beautician, kept the shop open all week. She gave me a haircut and did a great job.
One of Turkey's hardest working citizens was Lawana Cruse, who had always dreamed of owning the old Gem Theater, long closed and in disrepair. She and her sister-in-law, Marie Cruse, bought it, donated it to the city and began the refurbishing process, doing all the necessary paperwork and organization to obtain grants and other money-raising schemes to make this dream a reality. Despite the many nay-sayers, the Gem is now a beautiful place to hold the monthly Country Music Jamboree and other forms of entertainment, including ballet from Amarillo. Lawana died in a car wreck a few years ago, but Marie and another sister-in-law, Tommie Jo Cruse and a handful of others have kept her dream alive and well.
Saturday night at the jamboree in Turkey, I plan to sing a poem Lawana wrote about Bob Wills. Yall come!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Quitaque, Texas
Walking toward downtown Quitaque with the early morning sun at my back, my shadow looks tall and slender, as I was 50 years ago when this was part of my playground. One block south of me lies a cotton patch, as yet unplanted. Two blocks north is Main Street with its one traffic light. Delivering some of my books to librarian Arlene Hinkle, I happen onto one Robin Brown who does some historical writing for the local paper, sings and plays the guitar and piano. He is the baby brother of two friends of mine from the Good Old Days, a source of rich memories.
Quitaque (pronounced Kitty Kway) lies at the base of the Texas Caprock where all manner of wildlife inhabit the crags and cataracts between the rolling farm land below and the flat plains above. Buffalo, descended from Colonel Charles Goodnight's herd, roam in the Caprock Canyons State Park a few miles north of town. Hunting, fishing, friendly folk, good grub bring a steady stream of visitors to the area, helping the farmers to keep the small town alive.
A few stores on Main Street still serve the scattered community, and displays of antiques can be seen in the show windows of several empty buildings, forming an interesting sidewalk museum.
One of the remarkable things I notice about Quitaque is the total absence of dogs running loose. I would like to take some of the pet owners' vigilance back home with me, where most people who walk in the neighborhood carry a stick for protection, even though we have a law against roving dogs.
The little grocery store is run by Warren Lee Merrill, the grandson of my dad's best friend in the early 1900s. Daddy had been more or less adopted by the Merrill clan when he left home at the age of 13, working on their ranch and becoming best of friends with Warren and his new wife, Johnnie. Warren Lee had never seen me before, but he took my out-of-town check gladly. Here's to small towns and big hearts!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
Quitaque (pronounced Kitty Kway) lies at the base of the Texas Caprock where all manner of wildlife inhabit the crags and cataracts between the rolling farm land below and the flat plains above. Buffalo, descended from Colonel Charles Goodnight's herd, roam in the Caprock Canyons State Park a few miles north of town. Hunting, fishing, friendly folk, good grub bring a steady stream of visitors to the area, helping the farmers to keep the small town alive.
A few stores on Main Street still serve the scattered community, and displays of antiques can be seen in the show windows of several empty buildings, forming an interesting sidewalk museum.
One of the remarkable things I notice about Quitaque is the total absence of dogs running loose. I would like to take some of the pet owners' vigilance back home with me, where most people who walk in the neighborhood carry a stick for protection, even though we have a law against roving dogs.
The little grocery store is run by Warren Lee Merrill, the grandson of my dad's best friend in the early 1900s. Daddy had been more or less adopted by the Merrill clan when he left home at the age of 13, working on their ranch and becoming best of friends with Warren and his new wife, Johnnie. Warren Lee had never seen me before, but he took my out-of-town check gladly. Here's to small towns and big hearts!
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
