Outside in the sunshine I squint.
I think of Grandpa Gallery when I squint. He would watch me play when I was a kid, and he’d squint looking omnipotent. He'd set his right hand on the seat when he drove. His muscular hand was used to shifting, but the new Plymouth had push button transmission, so he laid his hand on the seat between us and drove with his left hand.
When I handle tools I think of my mom’s father. Grandpa Frank Gallery tinkered in his basement or out in his garage--building wooden toys or working on cars. Even though his fingers seemed big, his dexterity was impressive. Grandpa fit those hands into the depths of an engine to tighten a hard to reach bolt like he was tieing my shoelace or lighting his pipe.
My hands are beginning to look like Grandpa Gallery’s--rough and stained with ink.
I wrote that in 1992. Francis A. Gallery lived from 1903 -1988. We dedicated Gallery Nuttshell to his memory. He was a very good mechanic, that worked for the same company for 58 years and he also made little wooden toys for his grandkids. I have one and my sister has several more (they still work 50+ years later!) Most important Mr. Gallery showed me how to be a real man. Sensitive, caring, yet not a doormat and tough (he was an amateur boxer).
Wish you were still here grandpa, but I'm so grateful to have had you in my life!
Ok the weather IS warming up! It is time to break out the shorts and Sanuks, shave my beard and run through the streets rejoicing!
Spring is here!
Cliff Hawk tracked the big cat nearly three miles from his camp, near the base of Squaw Mountain.
Flaming Eagle (His chief) told him not to leave the area, "The air doesn’t feel right," he had explained.
The tracks were fresh and easy to follow. The young brave forgot the command of the chief.
Near the crest of a small embankment he heard a scuffling noise.
Stopped dead in his tracks he heard it again on the other side of the rise and over to his left. He crested the hill low on his belly. About 15-20 feet away was the mountain lion that had captured a rabbit and was engrossed in a feast.
Cliff Hawk drew his bow, slowly mounted an arrow and shot the cat before it was finished with the rabbit. A perfect shot, the big cat tumbled down into the ravine.
An exhilarating experience no matter how many times he did it. Now he must
gather the animal and make it back to camp. It was late, the sun was setting,
he didn’t want to carry the cat back now, nor leave it for the birds.
That is when Cliff Hawk felt it.
He was not a seer, others in his tribe took care of that, but the young brave felt something or someone else was with him.
As he skinned his kill he still felt the presence of someone else in the ravine.
Instead of attempting a trip in the dark, he quickly set up camp, under the shadow Squaw Mountain. The Indian strung the meat between two willow trees that
grew next to the dry creek bed at the bottom of the ravine. Birds wouldn’t
bother it until morning. Cliff Hawk wanted to scout the area before bedding
down. The agile brave climbed up at the northeast end of the ravine, near the
spot where he had shot the cat, then turned south following a game trail along
the top of the low cliff, next to the ravine where he set up camp.
Nothing else stirred, it was totally quiet. The sun had set and it was
quickly growing dark.
As he made his way along the ridge, he could still see the trees where the
carcass was hung. He continued west slowly, fully expecting to see another
Who's with me!? It's time to boycott winter!
This had better be the last snow storm or we're moving to Florida. Or Texas or anyplace that it doesn't snow!
I did our taxes today...don't owe anything, don't get anything back. Thank God!
The memory of east Texas is a distant (but warm, green) memory as I watch the snow fall here in CO.
Then I heard about the tragedy in Boston. What can I say?
Whatever the cause, God help those effected. I wish that I could do more to help.
So I went to east Texas for two weeks and had some wonderful moments!
Like sitting out under the 100 year old oak tree watching and listening to 1000's of birds. Like watching old movies with Clay and Martha and Karen. Like going out to dinner with their neighbor Betty. Like stopping in at the Mannatech headquarters office. Like taking the exclusive tour of an authentic east Texas cattle ranch and listening to all of Dr. Bill's stories. Like walking with Clay and Martha's Kerry blue terrier. Like visiting the not-so-up-to-date train station in Longview. Like living through a torrential down pour and power outage--on Easter Sunday morning. Like enjoying an incredibly romantic dinner at a classy restaurant on Caddo Lake and meeting Y.A. Tiddle. Like going to a bait and tackle shop on the lake and listening to the guy playing guitar up on the patio...one step up and two steps back....Like witnessing the leaves grow on the trees, flowers blooming, grass greening up, (lot's of misquito's were out already) it was springtime in east Texas.
Ok I had more than just a few wonderful moments, the bad stuff tends to overwhelm me and I forget about all of the magical times. Thank you to all who contributed to these unforgettable memories! And there are more memories to share, maybe I'll share them later...but for now I'll treasure these few details.
I went from nice and 75 degrees in east Texas to snow and cold in Denver yesterday. All the leaves are growing on the trees, flowers blooming, birds singing--in Texas.
So we did what anybody would do and went to Baker Street in Boulder today, after going to the one in Westminster yesterday afternoon. Ah yes! It's wonderful to be home and enjoying... Springtime in the Rockies!