DOVIE AND DAISY

Daisy and Dovie

***********************

DOVIE HAS A DAUGHTER!

***********************

by Bobby Snipes, guest writer

It was in the middle of February and it turned real warm.  It felt like Spring.....there was very little wind and the temperature was in the 70’s.  It was very unusual for Clovis, and I knew that there was a lot more cold weather coming.   But the birds thought it was spring, also.  I noticed Dovie and Dudley, the doves who live in my back yard, picking up twigs and building a nest.  It was so interesting to watch them...the twigs had to be just right.  And as they completed the nest, you could see that the larger twigs were placed first, and then smaller ones as they built the nest up.  

Even before the nest was complete,  I noticed that Dovie was sitting on the nest.   I thought it was a trial run but no, she was already laying her egg.  The weather stayed beautiful for about a week and Dovie was in the nest most of the time and then the weather turned bad….cold, 12 degrees at night and 18 degrees high one day, strong north wind and snow around the first of March.  I thought to myself that she would not be able to sit on that nest without freezing.  

It was amazing to observe….God gave those birds such an strong instinct to care for their un-hatched.  It brought tears to my eyes to think that 1,000 babies are aborted each day in America and yet here are birds that would sacrifice their life to protect their baby.

The weather was treacherous and Dovie sat on that nest for hours upon hours all fluffed up and hunkered down.   I kept putting out grain but Dovie would not come down for the longest time.  When Dovie did come down,  Dudley would take his turn to sit on the egg.  

After a 6-inch snow, I cleaned a spot to feed Dovie.   She finally came down to eat.  Well Dudley showed up to eat with her but that did not sit too well.  She fluffed her feathers and ran Dudley off and he flew back up to the nest.  It was like Dovie was saying “get back up there and do your job….it is your turn to sit”.   I looked up at Dudley and smiled thinking “I know the feeling….you will learn to take care of business”.   

A few days later it had warmed up and Dovie came down to eat.  Dovie was very protective ….she would chase all other birds away from the tree that her nest was in.   I wondered if she could see another bird while she was eating.   About that time a wood pecker flew into her tree.  She flew immediately to the tree and chased that wood pecker across the alley.  

Dovie seemed to have a built in thermometer.   As the days warmed up, she knew just how long to stay away from her nest.   After about two weeks and through all of the frigid weather day and night, Dovie and Dudley were rewarded with a baby dove…. I named Daisy.   

After a few days Daisy started peeking out of the nest.  After about two weeks Daisy was feathered up and standing on the edge of the nest and flapping her wings.   Then she would fly from branch to branch and she did that for about a week…. and then the maiden flight to a telephone line and then the top of our fence. 

During all of Daisy’s early flying days, Dovie and Dudley were always close by….patiently watching their offspring and frequently flying to her and feeding her until she could feed herself.     Well, Daisy is on her own now, flying with the big girls.   She does return occasionally to the top of our fence which seems to be her favorite spot.   And Dovie…….well she and Dudley got busy and built the nest a little deeper and yes….they are expecting another baby.   Thank goodness, the weather is warmer now. 

----30----

Bobby Snipes

For Mil’s

4/27/15

♫ BABY'S GOT HER HIGH HEELS ON! ♫

"CABO WABO"

♫There's a sleepy town south of fhe border
If you go there once, you'll be there twice
Lots of pretty girls, coming by the dozens
The white sand sure makes a tan look nice."
♫

This is a true story. It happened in April, 2015.

It happened "south of the border, down Mexico
way."

In fact, it happened about as far south as one
can go---on the "Baja," down at Cabo San
Lucas.

There an event occurred--- a near-vicissitude
which I will now proceed to relate.

The protagonists of this story, a Texas husband
and wife, were there at this resort with some
eighty company associates, due to their excellent
sales production with a large well-known company.

It was a very nice place--- hotels, restaurants,
swimming pools, and all kinds of recreational
events---an "all-inclusive" trip---everything paid.

Now,  there WAS a BIG important company Award
Dinner on Wednesday night, and though it was
not "white tie," everyone was expected to
show up in suits and ties...and of course the ladies,
even while back home, had been planning,
shopping, and preparing for it, with newly-
purchased knock-out dresses, and accessories---
as beautiful women are wont to do.

The lady in our story, of course, knew about this
special company dinner (her husband was up for
an award), and had planned her wardrobe big-time.

She'd planned to dress...gloriously.

But as fate often plays strange tricks on the
unsuspecting---alas! she had brought the WRONG
shoes!

Her brand new dress was white with gold and
brown accents, knee-length---a dress to die for...
packed lovingly and ready for donning and dazzling!

"Hmmm, now where did I pack my brown shoes?"

Uh-oh, she'd in her excitement and rush---packed
her black heels! Oh no, no, no! This was awful!
(Men couldn't even realize HOW awful.)

Her nice  brown sandals weren't going to work, either!
No sir!

"Honey, I know it's not but fifteen minutes until
the banquet, but we've got to find a ladies' store---
one that's still open...or I'm sunk! I need shoes!

"In a resort town, at this hour? Where'd we go?"

Ah, but the gods of luck were looking after this
couple. As they walked through this big,
beautiful resort hotel lobby, they spied some
little shoppes over there by the coffee deli.

One had women's dresses and accessories
in its little show window...and SHOES!

And would you believe---a pair of gold high-
heel shoes on display!? (Though with five
inch heels---wo!) These likely wouldn't have
been her choice back home...but then, they
weren't "back home" and had only a short time.

"Do you have those gold heels in size seven?"

Returning with a box, the attractive Mexican
girl said: "YES!!"

She tried them on! With a big smile and
gleam in her eyes, (and relief) she almost
shouted, "They'll work!"

By now, her husband, realizing they were
in an exclusive, expensive resort hotel,
began to calculate the possible price---like
maybe $189.00. He had no clue.

"How much are they?" he warily asked.
"Thirty-five dollars." "We'll take 'em," they
both spoke simultaneously.

Everyone was happy that early evening
in Cabo; for as the old saw goes:
"A happy wife means a happy husband."

This story has a happy ending.

They went to the dinner--the gold heels
showed beautifully under the knee-length
white dress...there were many glances and
many more compliments...

For her, the shoes made the banquet more
memorable---much more than the brown
sandals would have.

There WAS a minor problem...but who could
ever complain.

She couldn't glide (as usual) with those five
inch heels. They were too tall for her.
Everywhere she walked that night, down at
Cabo, her husband steadied her on his arm!
--------------------------
Today those picturesque golden high heels
have a resting place on the mantel back home.
They may never be worn again.

But O the happy memories of a wonderful
trip and dinner...and times enjoyed...and
wherever the shoes are finally displayed...they'll
never have to be bronzed...

For they are already golden.

**********************
BY MIL
April 25. 2015

NEW BEGINNINGS

 by Robert Stebbins, guest writer

************************

…..OF CARS AND MEN…
************************

Upon seeing our friend Art's after-surgery photograph, it reminded me that his heart is, and always has been, as big as his smile.

    It 's funny....my 1988 Volvo at 237,017 miles also just went through major surgery. Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe a one-way trip to the moon is about 239,000 miles.  Well, it turns out that my Volvo 's 4-cylinder engine started to sound like one of those old tractors that you used to drive.  And, Olga, my wife got tired complaining about ugly stuff on the garage floor under my car. 

Well, I finally bit the bullet.  About three weeks ago, I went to my mechanic who had pampered my car since I bought it 27 years ago.  Today, three weeks later, it was released from major surgery.  There was a whole page of stuff on the repair bill, but it is enough to say that it had a warped and cracked cylinder head, needed a valve job, water pump and some other small repairs.  Needless to say, I won't be taking Light Sport Aircraft flying lessons, as the nest egg that I had been saving for that has been depleted.

     But, before deciding whether to buy a new car, lease one, or buy someone else's used car (and its problems), or have the Volvo repaired, I had to look in the mirror. How much longer would I be driving?  Did I want (or need) extended car payments again?  But, the Volvo and I had enjoyed a solid, friendly relationship.  I knew that car with its minor idiosyncrasies that they all have.  But, I knew that it had not been mistreated, never been in a wreck, has not a spot of rust, and has good strong Swedish steel bumpers.  No plastic bumpers or fenders on that car.  In fact, when other motorists see me coming...they give me wide berth.  And, I don't even miss the cup holders that it doesn't have.

    Well, today I drove that baby out of the repair shop and headed for the Interstate.  That engine hummed and responded like it did the day I drove it off of the dock at the Port of Long Beach in 1988.  I could hardly feel that automatic transmission shift.  And, when the turbo kicked in...well, I don't need to tell you or the highway patrol about that. 

    It was hard not to draw a corollary between these "two surgeries".  The Volvo is a little used, but now properly repaired, is running like new. And, Art, with a little wear and tear over the years is now on his way to recovery and a new lease on life.  We can give thanks for those, who under God's guiding hand and in response to our prayers, are able to repair broken bodies and send us home to our loved ones again.

   Art and Carmen have been blessed....with one another....and with this outcome.  I know that all of their friends and CHS classmates extend our best wishes to both of them for continuing happiness and a long life together.  It is time to celebrate with a plate of those New Mexico Flat Enchiladas again….

Art

----30----
Robert Stebbins 
for Mil's Place
4/16/15

OLD CHURCH AT WATROUS

Photo by Mil, 1968

 LIFE IS  A DOOR TO SOMEWHERE
 ********************************

That day, forty-seven years ago

I had been to Ft. Union on a
   picture-taking trip.

Had an award-winning photo of
    an old wagon, in my Rollei
         but didn't know it yet!

Passing under that umbrella of trees,
    hanging over the highway

I came into Watrous, a N.M.village
    of mostly deserted
          buildings
but some houses here and there---
     inhabited.

Off the highway a piece, and nestled
     cozily under some weeping,
          hanging-type trees

I spied an old rock church, not in
    bad shape...with a new roof!

People still worshipped there!

I drove off the road, and under the
     shady, hanging limbs...
opened my windows, and sat there
     in the front seat...resting
          a bit, from the trip...

Sadly, I have now forgotten the name
     of the church, but remember---
          it was Methodist...

Half dozing there is the cool mountain air
     and studying that place...
I fancied I could hear voices from a
     hundred years ago---

"Brethren we have met to worship
     and adore the Lord our God...
Will you pray with all your power
    while we try to preach the word?

All is vain unless the Spirit of the
    Holy One comes down...
Brethren pray and holy manna
     will be scattered all around!"

(Good singing, I thought in my
     reverie---the Methodists
         have always been--
           good hymn singers!)

Then as if from far off time and .
    history...the strains of a
       great Isaac Watts hymn---

" A thousand ages in Thy sight
     are like an evening gone...
Short as the watch that ends the night,
     before the rising sun."

Much taken by this rustic, historic place,
    the scene mesmerized me.

But what caught my eye was the ornate
     door latch to the church.

Life, in fact, is filled with "door latch"
     options galore---we've heard of
"paths not taken" in life-- "wrong roads
     taken," "doors to open...or not..."

"Church doors are good doors to open,"
     I thought as I took a picture of the latch..
and...the pic has always been a little blurry…
   

Kind of symbolic of "door latches and
    decisions," hard to make...
        but never into a church...
            of course,

There are so many thoughts that go thru
    the mind, as one stands at an
        old church door--and ornate latch--
            both more than a
                hundred years old...

It was time to go...and I left reluctantly...
    and in my imagination, as I drove
         from under the weeping-branches
              that day, I thought I heard
                  believers from decades
                      ago, singing...

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand
     and cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land
     where my possessions lie!

I am bound for the promised land
   I am bound for the promised land;
O who will come and go with me,
    I am bound for the promised land."

It was a memorable trip.
***************
BY MIL
April 19, 2015

MUSING DOG….. IN GERMANTOWN

Photo by Kindell Brinay Moore

I'm being "dog-sat,"
    Ever heard of it?

Well,  it's tough, having
    my Master gone...
You see---she is the best person
    in this whole wide world---

Reckon I'd die without her.

My sitter is okay...she's nice.
    She is a photographer
Problem is, she follows me around
    all time, with a camera...
Has that ever happened to you?

It gets a little old.

I'm here on the balcony, meditating
    and musing,
Looking out there at the city
    of Nashville, where the country
and cowboy singers live---they
    even wear hats indoors
at concerts and dinners...why, I
     haven't figured out yet.

Why they're here and not out west
     at Santa Fe, Tombstone,
          or Pahrump, I'll never
               know.

When you hear snippets of the evening
      news broadcasts, you realize
            that it is a convoluted
                world out there...

I reckon most dogs are nicer than a
    lot of people; oh, now and
         then we hear of a bad dog
              I'm sorry to admit.

People'd probably be happier if they
     had tails
          they could wag.
******************
BY MIL
4/11/15
(Germantown is a division of Nashville,
Tennessee. Interesting to read its history.)

I SAW THE GLOCKENSPIEL

I saw the Glockenspiel

by Richard Drake, guest writer

In 1974 my company sent me to Munich, Germany on a short assignment to serve in a consulting role to the Messerschmitt (MBB) firm.  My company, Martin Marietta, had teamed with MBB to compete for the European Space Lab Program which was to be part of the International Space Station. I was traveling alone and spoke no German. The TV programs were in German, as were all of the newspapers, so I some trouble filling in my spare time in the off hours.  My main item of entertainment was finding restaurants in which to eat.  I drove into the outlying communities looking for small eateries. I had been told that was where to find good food.  When I found one, I would walk up to the bartender and ask if anyone could speak English. There was always someone who could help me either the owner or one of the patrons.  Fortunately, it was at the height of the cold war and the Germans liked Americans.

One evening I looked out of the window of my hotel and noticed a sign for a small downstairs café across the street. Not wanting to drive on the icy streets, I decided to try it. I walked up to the tall young man behind the bar and asked my standard question. As it turned out, he spoke English, as well, if not better than I. I told him I was alone and would like to have dinner.  With a big smile, he asked if I would like to have the table with a “view”. I did not understand the question because we were in basement.  I replied “yes’ and he led me up a short flight of stairs to a small dining area.  He led me to at a table for one and said “enjoy the view”.  Directly in front of me was a table occupied by six of the most beautiful women that I had ever seen in person. I later learned that my hotel was in Schwabing, a part of the Munich area which was the home of the film industry in Europe. The girls were young starlets out on a girl’s night out. Needless to say, the young man received a very large tip. In addition the waiter was a very good conversationalist.  He told me that he vacationed each winter in the States. He kept me supplied with wine.

My hotel was a Holiday Inn.  When planning my trip I had told our booking agent to find me a room at a local Holiday Inn so I knew what kind of accommodations I could expect. My plan was to find a better place to stay once I found my way around and had time to seek advice from the people at MBB. As it turned out that the Holiday Inn was considered to be the luxury hotel in Munich at the time. It had been built for the 1972 Olympics. It had a restaurant, the Yellow Submarine, which was built around a two story aquarium water tank.  Tables sat right against the glass panels through which one could see all of the sea life swimming around.  The big sharks would come right up to the glass and stare at you.  It was scary.

The Christmas season was in full swing.  Next door to my hotel was one of the largest and newest shopping malls in Germany. It had numerous food courts and bars. I loved window shopping and buying gifts for my family to take home with me. I am a great people watcher and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I normally would sit at a table and, when approached by the waiter, I used the little German that I knew “Eine bier, Bitte”. I think it meant “one beer, please”. It always worked. I would sit, enjoy my beer and watch the people as they walked pass. 

On a Saturday I took the subway to downtown Munich to Marienplatz, which is the center of Munich.  I walked all over the place. All of the shops were full of Christmas shoppers so I was able to do a lot of my shopping. On each street corner there were women with what looked like popcorn machines.  They were all shouting “Maronni, Maronni”. I decided to try the Marrroni. It turned out that they were roasted chestnuts.  Delicious. 

As I walked enjoying the view of the old City Hall Bell Tower when the second floor balcony seem to explode with ringing bells.  Brightly painted figurines, jesters, kings and queens on a merry go round. There were knights jousting from horseback, clowns dancing and you name it. On another level above the first one were more of the characters. I just stood there in the falling snow eating my chestnuts. I was mesmerized. After the performance I was told that it would happen again in two hours. I came back for a later performance.

I had stumbled across the Glockenspiel. I had heard of it before but had no idea what it was. Life is always full of pleasant surprises.  All you have to do is walk around and look.

OUR BIRDS CAME BACK

"Our birds..."
    the finches, chickadees, nuthatches,
         and plain old sparrows,

and those tiny un-named ones...
    (my wife loves)
         that have orange feather-dos
right on the tops of their little
    heads---

Then---the big plump white-wing doves
    with that beautiful white feather
         strip under each folded wing!
(So carefully and artistically
    placed there, by the Creator...)

Well, "our birds" are strange ones, it
     sometimes seems...they can
          be...unpredictable,
               nervous, jerky, fidgety,
 "a-mind-of-their-own" type birds at times.

When we added the ornate bars to their
   window, where I write and watch
        them daily, I said to the editor---
           (proud of my bird knowledge
                and vast insights into
                     their habits and ways---)

"These birds. I know 'em and I've watched
    'em, they are jumpy about any
        changes around their feeder---
          read that---'anything new!' "

"At least for a week," I said.

I was wrong!  We built the ornate bars over
    the window...

AND THEY CAME...WITH BIRD RELATIVES,
     BIRD FRIENDS AND BIRDS OF THE
            NEIGHBORHOOD!

THEY love the iron...THEY feel the security.

It was the very next day--- they all came back...
    the little birds, the sparrows,
         the doves---all of them

I am watching them now...some sitting on
    the bars...some eating grain...
        and tho' I can't hear thru the
             glass...some seem to
                    be singing.
**************
BY MIL
April 8, 2015

HAPPY BIRTHDAY……ROBERT STEBBINS!

ROBERT, and CALVIN, his dad, 1942

         Clovis, N.M. Train Depot

Barely a week ago on March 25, one of our

favorite classmates of the CLovis High School

Class of 1951, Robert Stebbins,  had a birthday.

Born in 1933...it was his 82nd.

Except for about three years, when he lived with

his aunt in Ohio while his dad went off to the

Pacific war, Robert grew up with all the rest of

the CHS 51 kids...going to the Lyceum on 

Saturday afternoons, getting ham salad sandwiches

at Woolworths, and eating those great hot dogs

at the Coney Island Cafe.

When the Stebbins family bought the Magic Steam

Laundry, 417 West Grand, from my dad on August 

15, 1945, Robert went to work there---doing

laundry jobs---sweeping, cleaning, and eventually

delivering laundry. (I, in turn, left laundry work and  

became a tractor driver.)

I remember being in Boys Debating Club with Robert,

but didn't see him that much---he was a team manager

for Wildcat teams, and it kept him very busy!

It is interesting to study that historic class of '51 photo,

made on the front steps of the beloved old high school

building. It was likely taken early spring '51 so as to be in

the yearbook. If you look closely, you will see Robert,

toward the back right, wearing his "C" sweater!

He has an interesting bio after CHS graduation, when 

most of us lost contact with each other...and tackled

life "head on," as they say...

----USMC 1952-1955, California, Japan, and Albuquerque

----1955-1959 University of New Mexico 

----1959- 1960 Lytle Corporation, Quality Control Inspector

----1960- 1988 U.S. Department of State, 25 years overseas

          in the Foreign Service

--- 1989 - 1993 U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service

       (part-time) California

 ---1993-2003 - U.S. Department of State (part-time contractor)

         Colombia, Ecuador, Taiwan

----1933- 2003 "WHERE DID THESE SEVENTY YEARS GO?"

"Now, we're happily retired and living two miles from the ocean about 

25 miles north of San Diego. In a nutshell, that's it."

*************

I have been grateful to Robert for his enthusiastic and continuing

interest in and support of MIL'S PLACE! The fourth anniversary

of MIL'S was yesterday, March 31, 2011. 

Robert has contributed a number of well-written pieces to MIL'S

and loves Clovis history more than anyone I know, (along with

Bobby Joe Snipes.) Robert has ever been an encouragement

with ideas for pieces about our old home town, and thus came

stories about "MR. ELMS," "DORA RUSSELL," "CONEY ISLAND

HOT DOGS," and others which Robert suggested.

His story ("MY DAD,") about saying goodbye to his dad at the

Clovis train depot, has always been one of my favorites!

Again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOB, and many more, from all your

friends, and CHS '51 classmates! 

**************

BY MIL

April 1, 2015