Noticing

On my recent trip to Colorado, I noticed a few women with their daughters in plain single color dresses, white aprons and white bonnets. My daughter glanced at them and then  gave me a quizzical look.
Smiling as they passed us, I guessed them to be Amish or Mennonites. They were a long way from the traditional settlements I'd heard of and I felt the bonnets were a clue.
"Mennonites, I think," I whispered to my daughter. We went our way and I relegated this to the back recesses of memory.
Later in the day and a few hundred miles later, I had just finished getting said daughter settled into her dorm. As I was filling up at the gas station, two Amish gentlemen walked by and got into the back seats of a truck loaded with saw horses, wood and tools.
Wow, so there is an Amish community in Southern Colorado. I did a little digging and came up with an article from the Denver Post.
Not only am not in the habit of taking pictures at the drop of a hat, I read long ago that it was rude to take pictures of the Amish.
As it turns out, they settled in the Sangre de Cristo mountain area in a town called Westcliffe, which is near where my child goes to school. 'Near' being the relative term for anyone living east of the Mississippi. The area they've settled in is about the size of Connecticut. Farmers, Carpenters and Creators one and all.
There is something admirable about growing or manufacturing products of quality. Seems to me the Amish are doing what needs to be done out there in that lonely isolated plain.

There and back again

"I want this to be an adventure," said my oldest child.
Indeed, I had had mixed emotions about this whole ordeal. Not about my daughter leaving home or going to college out of state. She is a young woman ready to go out into the world.

Ready for the world

 We got the finances locked down. Renting a vehicle, gas, food, lodging was relegated to the 'not worry about it' column. Again I would like to publicly thank my Mom and Stepdad for helping out with the time share. Discovering that location in Northern New Mexico was an adventure in itself and I wish to do it justice. Not only that, it saved me a few hundred bucks... so hats off to you guys.

At first I thought of past road trips. Those times I had friends and family to keep me company. Relief drivers are always a plus in my book. Plus, there would be sounds. Radio, iPods, conversations to pass the time. Well, for the first half of the trip, that would be true.
This wasn't an ordeal, or a task. If anything, this was a labor of love. So I approached it in the way my child described: this was a mini-adventure. A father and daughter road trip.

On the road again, just can't wait to get on the road again

On the first leg of our journey, I watched my child's face with pride as she saw the southwest first hand. For years she has heard me describe it in detail, now the mountains spread out for her in glorious detail. She'd been to the mountains in Alaska while visiting her grandparents, but these seemed different to her. I'm not sure if it was the proximity or the landscape of cactus and yucca.
We kept each other company, having heart to heart conversations that will be in my memory forever. We shared details and secrets of our lives and outlooks. We felt totally comfortable with each other that later in the journey I pointed out a cloud and asked, "What does that look like?" to which she replied, "A penis."

It totally does

To tell the truth, that was my first reaction as well. A huge set of male genitalia. It also helped the imagery that it was scattering rain all over the place.
We made it to El Paso and stayed at a friend's house. The two of us went to bed early with the intention of hitting the road early.
Wanting to see as much as possible had to be balanced with time to see all the things the southwest has to offer.
I purposely didn't make specific plans in order to be flexible.  
First, she wanted to see White Sands National Monument, which we did, after a fashion.

There are no words

 Having my daughter navigate freed up my hands to drive. She didn't pick the way I would have gone, but hey, loose plans.
From there we made our way up through Alamogordo to Ruidoso. The towns have changed in twenty years. It was much of a sight seeing tour for me as much as her.

An old gondola for Ski Apache

We left early afternoon for Red River. It was at that time I discovered my navigator didn't know the difference between county, state, and interstate roads. There are two routes leading into Red River, one on each side of the valley of this tiny hamlet. The first road is a state road that is fairly straight forward connecting town to town. The other is a winding path through the hills and across several fields where cattle graze. We have the video to prove it.

If I can say one thing about Red Rock, it's cold. Take into consideration that the town is located at about 10,000 feet.

Doesn't rate a one stop light town

Mayberry, eat your heart out

Also take into account that the mountains surrounding the town block a lot of the sun. We awoke that morning to 38 degree weather... in August! It warmed up to 68 degrees later in the day, but come on!
Taking the proper road out of town enabled us to head out to Alamosa, Colorado in decent time. We admired the horses, and the alpacas being raised on the ranches. The mountains rose very abruptly, not a gentle hill leading to a sloping rise, but a sheer neck craning cliff.
Alamosa is what I would call a small town. A quick look at the census figure put it at a population of 8,000. That's about right. We were too busy unpacking the daughter and getting her set up in her dorm at Adam's state.

Where she'll be for the coming year

Lot of bikes... Go figure

 Well, she's going to start classes tomorrow, and I'm alright with that.
I have to focus on my other two daughters who are also starting school. This is the beginning of that empty nest syndrome I heard about. Up till now it was an abstract concept. I'm guessing it will hit again in two years and once more when my youngest is ready to fly.

Needless to say, I took the interstate back. I actually made good time for the distance. I got to spend a little time in Las Cruces. The drive back to San Antonio was quiet, my battery recharger quit on me. Well, the cord is the problem. Right now the car is running in the driveway charging up the batteries. A phone call will be placed tomorrow, never fear.

Say it aloud, I dare you

So now you know

Always thought that was a nicely designed church

The Double Eagle will always have a special
place in my mind

Stunned Speechless

In looking for a blog topic I checked in with my internet news feeds where I found this.
After reading the news of Robin Williams passing away, I was in shocked silence for several minutes. Now that a few hours have passed, my mind is coming to terms with the event.
First off: Lies go around the world before the truth gets out the door.
I found myself reading less of the articles, skimming really. I don't want to hear rumors or speculations. I'll wait until the official report is out and we can put together what happened.
Every person has troubles, the rich dude and the poor guy alike. The trick is to not let your problems overshadow your life. I still need to hear that advice. We all have our demons.
In each of our lives, there are hard and uncertain times. It is how we react to these situations that matter.
In the past I've felt worthless, plagued with self doubt. Then along comes a total stranger who confided that I was their favorite teacher all those years ago. Stuff like that makes me wonder why I was second guessing myself. I don't want to use the meme or be cliche, but we are important to somebody even if we don't feel important to ourselves.
We as a person need to tell the doubter inside of us to shut the hell up. If you take a look around, you'll notice people who look up to you, even admire what you're doing.
Simply believe in yourself. That's a start.

Apple orchard

Inspired by recent events, I got the bones for a story. Here it is all fleshed out... sorta.

Oscar detested funerals, but in this case he would make an exception. A faded picture of his brother stood propped up against a plain wooden box. Beside the box, a tall vase full of flowers adorned the table at the altar. Family and friends of the deceased were solemnly filling the pews in this tiny church his brother once attended. Distant cousins with their nephews and nieces. In laws, out laws and friends of the deceased. Oscar felt nothing but contempt for these simple savages. All things considered, Oscar would rather be having a root canal.
I don't want to stay in this hick town any more than I have to, He thought. Don't want any of this loserville on me.
None of these idiots could understand the disdain he felt being here, not one of them. As soon as he was old enough, Oscar left home to become a New York based commodities broker, while his brother remained on the farm, tending those wretched apple trees. There was only one reason he was even here: Harvey left everything to him.
Oscar would do what he did best: liquidate everything and forget this little piss hole town existed. As soon as that deed was in his hand, he'd hop in his SUV and sell the land to developers. In fact, after he'd made inquiries, some associates said they'd be interested in looking at buying. The market was weak at the moment, but perhaps in a few weeks...  



The two brothers couldn't have been more different. Oscar found the comforts of the big city and the jet set suited his taste, while his younger sibling Harvey grew up the stereotypical country bumpkin.
After the service, the obligatory iced tea and sandwich social commenced out in the church foyer. Putting his back to a wall, Oscar nursed his tea and tried his best to not make eye contact with the locals. The inbred little shits, he thought.
A young man with a clip on tie cautiously approached Oscar. 
“Uncle Oscar?” he asked timidly.
Not entirely wanting to acknowledge the teen, Oscar nodded, mentally preparing to have his eyes glaze over while being introduced to all the kin-folk.
“I'm your nephew, Joseph,” he said.
Oh, my God, he thought behind the smile. My brother had a rugrat.
Was this was going to be awkward? He never got along with his family.  Didn't bother to attend any weddings and never exchanged Christmas cards.
“My dad gave me exact instructions about the farm,” Joseph said. “He told me how uncomfortable you'd be and to take care of this real quiet like.”
Trying hard to mask his surprise, Oscar said, “All I know was that I was mentioned in his will.” As a habit, he never revealed his hand to others, let alone a hayseed hick like the boy in front of him.
“Mm-hmm,” Joseph agreed. “He left everything to you, but there's something I'd like to ask. Dad thought you'd be quick to sell it, but if I were to persuade you to let me run the farm, maybe you wouldn't sell it right off.” 
Liquidating Harvey's farm had a certain amount of appeal. Holding on to it simply didn't seem like a money maker. Then again, he might not be able to off load it immediately. Harvey's kid might be good for something after all. The boy could keep things looking neat and presentable for buyers. Yeah, that could work out.
“My pa had one request before I turn the deed over to you,” Joseph said.
“What's that?” Oscar began to feel intrigued.
“He wanted to be buried under his apple orchard.” 
That sounds reasonable, put my hick brother in the ground he wasted his life on. Oscar mused.
“He wanted you to do the honors,” Joseph added.
“Wait,” Oscar shot back. “What are you talking about?”
“I've already dug the hole. Dad picked out the tree,” Joseph said. “All you'd have to do is put his ashes in the ground,” he indicated the wooden carved box on the altar.
Put the box in the ground, collect the deed, high tail it out of here. Was there a down side? Oscar thought.
Kicking up dirt as Joseph's pickup barreled down the country road was bumpier than Oscar remembered. This had to be the redneck trifecta: Two men in their Sunday best, fresh from a funeral. A beat up Dodge racing down the road, Dukes of Hazard style. And all before the farm was sold to the evil lawyer.
In this case Oscar didn't mind playing the bad guy if it meant he'd get out of here sooner. Oscar was going to need more than a shower to get the stupid off of him when he blew this place.
Joseph had been downright somber while at the church. Once behind the wheel however, he became giddy with excitement.
“We're almost there, Uncle Oscar,” he said gleefully.
One hand on the ceiling and the other on the door handle, Oscar could only grimace. If I open my mouth, all the dirt and bugs will fly in.
With a sudden right turn, the Dodge screeched to a halt, sending rocks and dust flying. A rusted John Deere sat nestled under a tree that marked the start of the apple orchard. Oscar stepped out and immediately noticed a hole behind the tractor. 
Shouldn't that hole go straight down? He thought.
Noticing his confusion, Joseph cleared his throat and said, “Pa wanted to be under the tree, so I had to dig the hole at an angle.”
There was something else wrong, but Oscar couldn't put his finger on it. The sun would be setting in an hour or two. He wanted this place in his rear view mirror by then.
With the box containing his brother's ashes, Oscar stepped over to the oversized gopher hole. Tendril-like roots were visible sticking out of the fresh earth. It was impossible to lean over and drop the box in the hole.
“You're going to have to push with your foot in the ground to get the box in there,” Joseph said anxiously.
If doing as his nephew instructed meant getting this over with sooner, Oscar was all for it. Placing the box of ashes at the entrance to the hole, he sank to one knee in order to push the box in with his other leg. I'm going to send my nephew the dry cleaning bill for ruining this suit. 
The roots seemed to object to the presence of a square object being thrust below the tree. Scratching and clawing at Oscar's leg, he knew he was going to need a new suit after this.
“Just a little more and it'll be right under the tree,” Joseph encouraged. 
Summoning the last of his patience, Oscar slammed his foot against the box and felt it break under his heel. He felt a mix of soft dirt and ashes envelop his ankle. Now he'd need new shoes as well.
“Well, that does it,” Oscar said. “Harvey is now under his damned apple tree.”
An evil grin spread across Joseph's face. “And so are you, Uncle.”
Oscar felt a wriggling sensation going up his thigh. Was it a snake? Worms? No, it felt like several snakes surrounding his leg, winding their way past his hip. Pulling with all his might, the sinewy roots held firm. Oscar pushed with his arms in a vain attempt to free himself from this half hole.
“Well, what do you know?” Joseph said. “Paw was right.”
“What do you mean?” Oscar demanded.
“The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, you being kin and all.”
A ticklish sensation forced Oscar to look down. Roots covered his other leg, he even felt them burrowing into the soft earth, anchoring him to the farm he spent a lifetime trying to escape. Bark began covering his suit, his chest.
“What's going on!” he demanded. “Joseph, help me!” Oscar thrust his hands up to his nephew desperately.
Shaking his head, the hayseed grin was back. “I'd take a look at those hands, if I were you.”
Oscar's fingertips were a shade of green, his outstretched arms turning brown.  Leaf buds sprouted from his head, but Oscar could no longer move his arms to be sure.

In the time it took the sun to turn the sky deep crimson, another tree joined the apple grove.

Good for the goose

We often view change with apprehension. A new job. Moving. Raising a family. These are things that can frighten people. At the very least it can be unnerving.
My standing rule on this blog is I don't name people specifically. Today is one of those times I'm sorely tempted to break that rule. It seems the store manager wants to fire me. To that effect I've been given the responsibilities of jobs that few want. The intention was I would get fed up with being miserable and quit. The reality is I can take a lot of crap, especially if my family or my income is on the line. There have been worse jobs, I keep telling myself.
Today I was written up for saying 'good morning' to a co-worker I've known for years. We asked each other how we were doing with the conversation lasting far less than a minute.
Methinks somebody is fishing for a reason to let me go.
Funny, I didn't feel any crosshairs painted to my back. Oh, I'm sure they're there. If I had done something wrong, behaved unprofessionally, then it would be within management's right to get rid of me.
But I've done nothing wrong.
We don't have to like one another, but I expect people to act professionally. Growing up, I've never held out for universal popularity. It's one of those unrealistic expectations. Instead of trying to please everyone, I'm simply trying to be pleasant to people I meet.
Folks will see what they want to see in you. I help strangers. I listen as best I can. I use my manners whenever possible. I try not to judge people unfairly.

So congratulations go out to the management at Lowe's. You will be in my future books. Whenever I need a character to be greedy or short sighted, I will think of you. When a book calls for a villain, I will recall past wrongs, recalling the times they were less than professional, less than decent, to me.
So this is change. Whether I want to change or someone wants to make me change. Am I splitting hairs?