"YOU RAISE ME UP"

********************************************
SO I CAN STAND ON MOUNTAINS!
********************************************

Along about 2003 in the new century, a new song appeared.
In the past ten years it has really "caught on." Said to be "one
of the most beautiful, powerful, and moving songs ever," it is
destined to become a classic.

"You Raise Me Up" music was composed by Secret Garden's
Rolf Lavland and the lyrics by Brendan Graham. It was first
performed in 2003 by Secret Garden, and was a minor hit in
the UK.

it was then popularized in the U.S. by Josh Groban and then
became a hit here. Two years later the Irish band Westlife
popularized the song in the UK.

"You Raise Me Up" has been recorded by more than one
hundred artists. It is sung as a contemporary hymn in
church services. In religious services, it may be more suitable
for solo or ensemble use; congregations are a bit tricky to
direct in more difficult songs.

The words are meaningful and even touching; the tune is a
strong one, with its modulations which build to exciting levels.
Personalities have been seen to weep during public renditions,
particularly Groban's.

In 2004 the song was played more than 500,000 times on CIN
radio. In 2006 there were eighty versions available in the USA
and it has been nominated for Gospel Music awards four times.
Sales of sheet music reached 76,000 copies in 2006.

My own favorite renditions include the "Celtic Woman," the Mo
Tab Choir, the Orpheus Men's Choir, and Josh Groban.

It has been used at weddings, usually by a soloist and directed at
one or other of the mates, as a wedding message. Actually the words
fit pretty well.

The truth is: in Holy Matrimony, is it not true that a priceless
wife, over a long marvelous marriage, can lift her mate...to
heights he could have never reached without her?

Or vice versa....

There is something about this song that really
touches people.

The lyrics: "You Raise Me Up".......

"When I am down and, oh my soul so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait there in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

There is no life...no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come, I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up...To more than I can be."


Celtic Woman:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=faKFcfytlxU&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Morriston Orpheus Choir:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vtxX4G11Jg&feature=youtube_gdata_player



******30******
BY MIL
09/23/13


Sent from my iPad

"UNDER HIS WINGS"---A GOSPEL SONG

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither
angels nor demons, neither the present not the future,
nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything
else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the
love of God that is in Christ Jesus Our Lord."
......ROMANS 8:38-39

***********************************************
"WHO FROM HIS LOVE CAN SEVER?
***********************************************

So my friends, here is something on which to hang our
souls! Let us take heart! If we are "under his wings,"
there is no harm which can ever permanently befall us.
No, none!

In my early career as a gospel singer and choral director,
I led the music for some sixty-three revivals, many of
them two weeks long. The song I write about in this post
was one that I sang in nearly every one of those meetings.
There were morning services also.

It was a favorite of mine then and remains so to this day,
though it has been many years since my last revival...and
for some reason, we don't hear of revivals much anymore.

To me, the key line in "Under His Wings, is noted above:
"Who from his love can sever?" If we ever get down and
discouraged, what greater promise and hope do we have?

The words to "Under His Wings" were written by William
Orcott Cushing (1823-1902). He was a pastor for many
years---known as a kind and compassionate man whose
love for Jesus could be seen in his daily life and by the
way he treated others.

After his wife died in 1870, he retired from preaching and
began writing hymns. He wrote more than 300, including
"Ring the Bells of Heaven" and "O Thou Blest Rock of
Ages, I'm Hiding In Thee," as well as the words of this
song---"Under His Wings."

Ira D. Sankey, (1840-1908) the great gospel tune-writer,
wrote the music for Cushing's song, and it appeared in
his "Sacred Songs," 1896 edition. Gospel music owes
much to Sankey, for he wrote the music for 12,000 songs.
Five of his hymn-tunes appear in the beloved 1957
Baptist Hymnal.

Store the words to this fine song in your heart:

"Under his wings I am safely abiding,
Though the night deepens and tempests are wild;
Still I can trust Him, I know He will keep me...
He has redeemed me and I am His child.

Under His wings, what a refuge in sorrow!
How the heart yearningly turns to His rest;
Often when earth has no balm for my healing
There I find comfort and there I am blest.

Under his wings, oh, what precious enjoyment,
There will I hide 'til life's trials are o'er;
Sheltered, protected, no evil can harm me,
Resting in Jesus I'm safe evermore.

CHORUS:
Under His wings, under His wings,
Who from His love can sever?
Under His wings, my soul shall abide,
Safely abide forever."

********30*******
BY MIL
09/22/13

"DOWNTOWN ATTIC"

**************************************************
ATTIC TYPEWRITER SALE!! BARGAINS!!
**************************************************

Bob, I'm so glad to have you come by again---it seems
like ages since I've seen you! As an old-timer might
say: "I've been hankerin' a right smart to see you, and
set a spell, and have a good jaw!"

Good news! See my rebuilt attic stairway and rail! Much
safer and easier to get up here now. So many people
were reading our attic stories and were dropping by to
see my attic so we decided to improve our access.

One of our friends and faithful readers suggested we
name our attic pieces "DOWNTOWN ATTIC," sort of in
honor of that very well-done and popular British nobility
program "DOWNTON ABBEY." We are naming this one
for her.

You take the rocking chair there with the quilt on it,
which makes it soft---and put your feet up there on Jack
Holt the Clothier's shoe stool, which you bought for me
as a gift at a sale, knowing that I had worked there off
and on for 6 years during high school and college (when
I wasn't plowing.) You know, I am going to do a story
about that stool one day....

Well, I'll admit, summertime is not necessarily the coziest
time for sitting in an attic. I always need my little A/C "on"
up here in July, but let me tell you, yesterday afternoon, it
"clouded-up good" about 4 p.m. and "the bottom fell out!"
Rain came down in sheets for about 15 minutes. With my
built-in-farm-boy rain gauge, I estimated the amount to be
in the range of about eight tenths to one inch...but I have
been know to over-estimate downpours!

So this rain cooled us off and I went out to check my rain
gauge this morning and it was cracked and no good. I am
slipping---any self-respecting farmer knows to have a
back-up coffee-can-rain-gauge somewhere!

Anyway, I was up here during the storm and there was
HEAVY thunder and lightning and the rain was pouring
onto the roof right over my head ---my favorite old
vagabond mulberry branch was scraping the house big
time (though you couldn't hear it); the overall effect was
stupendous and I almost lost my awe and enjoyment of
it all....and became a ...wimp!

Speaking of attics in the summertime, I have clever ways
to beat the heat. Here's one: I get a big insulated glass
and fill it with ice cubes; then pour into this a twelve
ounce diet/decaf Dr. Pepper, come up here and turn on
my little A/C and TV, and find the "ICE ROAD
TRUCKERS." That'll cool you off! "HA HA HA HA HA HA!"
(Does that sound like Alex Debowgorski, my hero ice
trucker?!)

And you know, it kind of reminds me of my days as a
wheat trucker when I was 15-16 years old, though I never
had to negotiate snow and ice. At that age I'd have flipped
out to have seen a cute blond trucker like Lisa driving
around. She's a real trucker, trooper, and tough to boot,
isn't she? "HA HA HA HA HA HA!" (Does that sound like
"the Polar Bear?")

What amazes me about those ice road truckers is their
talent and ingenuity in fixing small motor problems on
the road...putting on heavy tire chains in minus 30 degree
weather...or winching their trucks (with heavy cables tied
to forest trees) sideways, forward, or back onto the road.

Driving a wheat truck was okay but ice road truckin' is
not for me. What if you had to turn a tight corner, driving
an eighteen wheeler, in a small town? I'd probably take
out a whole corner, including a mail box, fire plug, and
bus stop bench! We won't even talk about backing up
in that truck....

Bob, I don't want to monopolize the conversation, but
while you're here, being as you are a "retired Junque
hobby expert," I want to offer you the DEAL of a lifetime
on some electric typewriters! Wo! Wait 'til you hear this!
Did you know, as the old saying goes: "I CAN GET
THEM FOR YOU---WHOLESALE!" LOL!

Over there, in the corner of the attic, resting under than
quilt, are six really-nice, state-of-the-art,well-cared-for,
barely-used, garage-sale-purchased Smith-Corona,
Olivetti, Remington, Sears, and Montgomery Ward
electric typewriters! Well okay, I lied a little---the Olivetti
was used a lot---the lady at the garage sale said she
got her Master's degree with it.

A retailer would say that I "OVERSTOCKED last year."
Yes, I did---I over-bought! I was so blinded by the fact
that $300.00 machines were sitting there at almost every
garage sale for five bucks per---well, I just lost control.
i'da bought forty of 'em at that price! LOL!

So Bob, can we talk...businessman to businessman?
I need to move these out to "make room for incoming
new inventory." know what I mean? (Don't mention that
term to the Beloved Editor--don't say "incoming.")

Bob, here is the plan. See if you like it: You take all six
pre-owned electric typewriters @ $10.00 each. Then sell
them for $15.00 each; that way we both come out ahead!
(In fairness, I should mention to you that computers have
made the market in electric typewriters, as well as in
"Whiteout," a little slow.)

To tell the truth, I have always avoided electric typewriters.
See I tend to drag my fingers and I get lots of ...nnnnnnn's...
and pppppp's...with an electric. This happens even with an
IPad. Did you ever doze off while typing on an IPad? It is
amazing what you wake up to!

I shudder when I remember doing term papers in college
on the family portable! I bought "Whiteout" by the quart, I
think! My brother must have got that portable when I
graduated because I was forced later on to get another
one for the seminary, where there was a considerable
amount of typing required.

Thus I bought an excellent German-made ADLER
non-electric portable which I still have and will always
have---a fine machine, though why I'll ever need it---with
Henry here, I don't know. It has sentimental value.

You know, Bob, you must be quite a typist yourself. You
are obviously very dexterous on your computer. You've
written several stories for MIL'S, including your famous
"MARBLE STORY!" In fact, I owe you a lot. Thanks for
putting me in contact with some of the '53 CHS class
guys such as Richard and Wylie, who have made some
fine contributions to MIL'S PLACE. And then there's that
great guy down in Florida, Coach Ned Biddix, that I "met"
through you!

Well enough about typewriter and computers for now,
let's rustle up some food! Re food, the bad news is---the
Editor could not find any beef State Fair Corn Dogs; so
she skipped them, knowing my distaste for turkey
wieners.

The good news is---we have for some extra crunchy
peanut butter and some cherry preserves (made in
France)---the best that you have ever tasted!
Here's a fresh loaf of Nature's own---we'll have
PNBJ sans!!

You may have seen my Hires Root Beer sign on the
attic wall, and so you may have guessed our beverages!
Yes, here's a big old Hires twelve ounce root beer, just
like we drank in the forties under the elms on a hot July
day on Reid Street---out in my front yard!

Remember, you were barefooted then in '43. Want to
take off your shoes? LOL!

I'll eat awhile and let you talk!

Before I forget it though, let me say---if you'll take all six
of those electric typewriters off my hands, I'll throw in a
quart of WHITEOUT!

*******30******
BY MIL
09/15/13

"BEER CAN ALLEY AND SANTA FE DIP"

*****************************************
CLOVIS REMEMBERED
*****************************************
by Richard Drake, guest writer

With little to entertain ourselves while growing up in Clovis, we on occasion did some dumb things. One that comes to mind was the drive down Beer Can Alley over the Santa Fe Dip. In the southwest part of town, Thomas Street ran south past the stock yards. I think the street is now called Martin Luther King Blvd. It was a dirt road with a big ditch. This little-used road was perfect for a joy ride. It was something that we learned from our upper classmates. One of the girls in our class remembers being taken for the ride by two senior boys.

The ride always started by dragging Main Street. When that became tiring, someone would suggest "doing the dip". As many kids as possible crammed into a car and headed west. The driver would go as fast as possible down the dip in the road and up over the other side. If the car was going fast enough, it would become airborne. It was just like riding a roller coaster. WHAT a thrill.

The father of one of our classmates had a new Cadillac and she would drive it very fast. She was probably the fastest driver in our class, a regular dare devil behind the wheel. We believed she could drive so fast that the car would go four to five feet into the air. Some of the kids would actually hit their heads on the roof. Since everyone would get bounced around a lot we always wanted a "tight pack". At least four in the front seat next to the driver and six in the back seat. Remember that this was the fifties so the girls sat on the boys laps. That of course added to the excitement.

Looking back, it was a dangerous thing to do. If a car was coming from the opposite direction, it would be impossible to see it until your car was in the air. We were teenagers so the thought never occurred to us.

Another one of the good drivers would take his father's pickup for the ride. On night the truck body came down on the shocks in an awkward angle. OOPS! The driver was deathly afraid to go home with a truck that traveled at an angle down the street. The group drove slowly back into Clovis until a service station with a vehicle lift was found open. The mechanic on duty was able to use a long iron lever and get the body straight. What a relief.

OLD CAR

**********************************************************
A FANTASY INTERVIEW WITH AN OLD CAR....
**********************************************************

Old car...
You know, don't you,
That I admire you!

What's not to admire
About an old vet
like you?

I think you're
A thirty-five Plymouth.
The only way I could
admire you any more is
If you were a Chevy.

We're about the same age...
You and me,
And I 'spect we've prolly
"Seen it all!"

Why, I've even flown in
cars like you, over big dips...
In the road
(Don't aak me how!)
and lived to tell about it.
Bet you've never done that.

You and I have about
the same number of miles
on us, I reckon!

Were yours highway miles.
Or off the pavement....
On the rocky roads and
Thru the deep waters
and slush of life?
Like most people...

Did you get stuck?

You look pretty beat up;
If you'd known
You'd live so long---
Would you have taken
Better care of yourself?

Figuratively speaking
I've had my flats
Just like you;
And yes, cold mornings
When my battery was down,
And I needed a jump start!

Time was, more than once---
I had to be pushed.

I've been low on oil
Countless times---
Had many abrasions and
A few dents!

Luckily, no transplants for me
But I see you have a new door;
Respectfully speaking...
Did a quack body-shop
guy do it?

If you were a horse,
In cowboy vernacular,
I'd say: "You look like
you've been rode hard and
put up wet!"
No offense intended.

Hope you don't mind questions...
You interest me, a right smart!

Were you owned by the proverbial
Little old lady in Nikes?
Or was it a teen-ager?
Were you out late on
Saturday nights?
Were you, er...."sped?"

Did your owner hang
With a good crowd?
(Your buddies resting there
with you, look...
A bit dissipated.)

Did someone take good
care of you...
You know---change your oil,
and anti-freeze and keep
you greased and polished?

Was WWII hard on you?
Did you "roll on recaps?"

Did you live
in a cozy garage?

Now, let's talk about...
Your paint job.
Where did you get THAT
In the thirties??

If you were a human,
I'd say: "Someone got you
drunk and PAINTED YOU!"
No offense.

(But you know,
I kinda like it!)

I'm glad we met,
Even though you're
A bit "laid up."
You know there'll
be no more like you,
Don't you?

Like many other
GREAT THINGS, AMERICAN---
The Plymouth name
Is gone with the wind.
Why?

At least, your owner
Had the money, foresight,
And respect for the
Plymouth name...to put
you in a cool shady little
grove of trees---
for your declining years...

Tho' I'll admit---
It must be galling
To spend eternity
With a couple of
Reprobate-looking Fords!
*******30*******
BY MIL
09/17/13

A NEW MEXICAN IN NEW YORK

************************************************
"OH, THAT'S THE STATUE OF LIBERTY!"
************************************************
By Wylie Dougherty, guest writer

My first trip to NYC was in 1971. One highlight was a meeting at Chase Manhattan Bank with David Rockefeller and Co. During lunch, on the 62nd floor, where the Executive Dining room was, a young VP gave me a tour of downtown. First to the building's East side and he proudly pointed out the East River, Brooklyn Heights, Brooklyn, Queens, Riker's Island etc; I was properly awed. Then to the North side to see the Midtown area, Empire State, PanAm building and a view of the George Washington Bridge on the Hudson; West Side showed me a great view of the Hudson...all the piers and several ships loading and unloading their cargos.

When we went to the South Side, I reacted in the typical "hick from the sticks" as I saw the Statue of Liberty and blurted out "that's the Statue of Liberty!" ...this to a New Yorker. We also saw the World Trade Centers which were being finished and would be occupied by the next visit to NYC.
It provided a good view of Staten Island and the ferry docks and a good view of the NY Harbor.

All this which I later told my Mom, just to impress her, but she was dutifully proud of her middle Son and his visit away from the Deserts of New Mexico.

Thought you would enjoy a Country Boy's first visit to the Big Apple.
********************************************************************
More Eastern travels.....

Ruth and I went on a anniversary trip in 1980 that included Hershey, PA-then NYC. Stayed at Lorena Helmsley's Princess Hotel across from St. Patricks Cathedral. The lobby was a madhouse, as Michael Jackson was staying there for a concert, so we had to contend with the groupies who were always there in hopes of seeing the Great Michael. We had Tickets to "Cats" on Broadway, seats in 14th row. If you have ever seen "Cats", you know that you are almost part of the cast with runways running over the seats, wonderful. Saw the Rockettes at Rockefeller Center and also watched the ice skaters in Rocky Square. Had dinner in the Rainbow Room, the whole tourist thing.

Took Circle tour which went from a pier on the Hudson past the Statue of Liberty, past the point of Manhattan, with amazing views of the World Trade Center Towers, passed the Staten Island Ferry Dock, Brooklyn Heights, Brooklyn, up the East River past the UN, Roosevelt Island, Randalls Island Park, Rikers Island, cross the Harlem River Canal to the Hudson, passed under the George Washington Bridge which connects NYC with New Jersey. Past Ft. Lee, Cliffside Park, W. New York, Hoboken then back to the Pier on West Manhattan Dock area.

Ruth was properly impressed, especially seeing "Cats" on Broadway. All in all, a wonderful trip for both of us, in spite of the blisters and sunburned tonsils.

Wylie Dougherty
For Mil's Place
9/15/13

THE PATHS NOT TAKEN

There are some things
In life, about which we'll
Always wonder...
But will never know---

They are about the
"Paths not taken."

There is an old wise saw
Which says:
"When you come to a fork
In the road,
Take it."

Pretty wise advice
There...
But what about
The one not taken?

Stay with me---
This is weighty stuff.

The whole future
Of one's life
Depends on... decisions.

Marriages, births, careers,
Lifelong friends, education,
Vistas of knowledge,
Experiences, destinies...

All---
Hang on such choices...
Paths
Taken...or not.

That day, many years ago,
In 1955, when I walked
Out of the Student Center at HSU,
And saw my old friend, Merwin, and
He said:
"How would you like to
be the music director
at my dad's church
this summer?"

Three days later,
I said: "Yes."
It was the Right Choice
of Paths.

At the end of that path
Was my beautiful,
Incredibly talented,
and marvelous wife of
fifty-seven years.

A children's music teacher
For thirty-five...
Known all over...
For her excellence...
And a church pianist
For much longer than that.

At the end of hat path
Were also Alan and Brian,
Connor and Kindell,
the greatest people,
sent from God.

And eventually
Fifty- two years in Albquerque---
The most "enchanted" place
In the world!

Beautiful mountains,
Far-seeing panoramas,
Desert scenes and colors---
Billowing white clouds,
Always cool breezes,
History galore,
Green chillies, burritos, tacos
And the Rio Grande!

My young friends,
Always ask God,
And try to take the
Right paths in life
When you come to
the forks...

Then don't worry
About...
"The paths not taken."
********30*******
BY MIL
09/14/13

IN MEMORY....OF A FRIEND

 OUR RANCHVALE WINDMILL

BY MIL, 1969

***********************************************
A GRAND DECORATION ON THE LAND!
***********************************************
Our old windmill at Ranchvale---
I'm thinking of you again
this morning...for I ran across
Your picture, and pictures always
Bring back memories to me,
right quick.

I know---I've already written about you
But there you were, standing so straight
and still---since you weren't turning,
Your blades showed in all their beauty!
And in silhouette you looked so impressive!

You were a grand decoration on the land...
Besides your main purpose of
Delivering water.

Your very existence as a quencher
Was a sort of symbol of
home, succor, security---a safe place...
With trees all around for shelter.
Trees always hung out around windmills!

You were born in the forties...
I watched your birth.
Just as men are made of clay,
You were fashioned from strong,
Weathered wood that had paid
It's dues through many years
Of maturity.

I was older than you, but I always
Thought of you as a friend!

You see, few "city people"
Have a clue to what it's like
For a kid to sit on a big,
Scary, orange powerhouse of
a tractor, in 95 degree heat,
All day, no wind, with dust rising
From the ground, following,
And swallowing you
As you creep along at maybe 3 mph.

But you know---I see you over there
On the corner of our section
Watching me, every round I make.
We're both stuck with our jobs
And I'm sure I feel pity...from you.
I watch you too!

The day drags on. I feel almost like
The "Ancient Mariner," lost out in
The middle of a section of land...
A sea of dirt, with no
Wind, rain, or mercy in sight.

I think of my peers, in town---
in their swim trunks
And sunshades, lying around the pool---
Flirting with the pretty girls.
Next thing you know, they'll all
be down at the Lyceum, where it's
cool, catching a movie!

I've sung all my favorite songs, out here
Over and over...'til I'm hoarse.
"Red River Valley," Moonlight Bay,"
"Auralee," "My Old Kentucky Home."
(Oh, I know today's kids wouldn't
care for my music, for it contains
An important music "requisite"----
Melody.)

There are those out here who
Love my singing...
They are the gnats, flies, and
Bugs that follow me around my
Rounds, hanging in my face,
And ever buzzing their approval!

After a few dozen "why me's?"
I have settled down to my fate
On another plow-day, doing my
Assigned acres!

It's hot out here. My water bag
Is seeping---it's muddy all over...
It's water is hot...and mostly gone.

Some big puffy white clouds have
Sailed in to my "ancient mariner"
milieu! A breeze is "getting up."
I can see my windmill over there
By the road: it's turning like mad---
Glad to have something to do!

I think windmills get bored on
hot, windless summer days
In August.
Yes! It's pumping like mad,
And yes! It is calling to me:
"Hang it up---come over
and let's have a drink.
You need to sit in the shade,
Under this old elm tree, have some
Of my water, and cool off!"

So if the clouds turn dark, and it
Starts to rain, I'll quit, drive over
To my old friend, the windmill,
Wash the mud off my water bag,
Fill it with cold fresh water,
And drink what seems like
gallons of it!

Then I'll fill my leaking, beat-up
Straw hat with more cold water,
And dump it on my face, and on
My head and shoulders
Again and again, until I'm all wet.
And cool!

My friend, the windmill, so
Glad to have wind...and company
Seems to be clunging and laughing,
Clunging and laughing...and saying
"Now we're cooking! I love
water parties---nuthin' like 'em
On a hot summer day!"

That windmill, stuck out there
In the open wheat field in plain sight
Was always visible to me, no matter
Where I was in the field.
It was a faithful sentinel, standing there
And watching me, and maybe hankering
a bit for my company.

I came back once to Ranchvale, to the
Baptist Church, one mile due west
of my mill; it was the sixties and
I came to that church of noble
people, not to sing "Red River Valley"
this time, but to sing of the
Incomparable mercy of the loving Father:
"Sinners Jesus will receive...
Sound this word of grace to all."

I was too busy I guess, that time,
To go a mile down the road, and
Say hello to my old windmill
But in 1969 I went back out there one
day, late in the day, and got a nice
silhouette photo.

I should have told my friend "goodbye"
then, but I thought we'd both live forever.

Early this year, in a note to a long-time
compadre, "Country Boy Bob,"
I said: "When you're moseying
around our dear old Clovis, could you
please drop by our old Ranchvale
place an get me a pic of my beloved
windmill.?"

Several weeks later, a note came
From Bob: "The windmill at your
Old Home Place...is gone."

How did that happen? The last time
I saw it---it was standing straight up
And strong. Dad built that mill
To last a hundred years!
I should have said my "goodbyes"
in 1969. Isn't that the way of life,
Putting things off?

I know its body was made only
Of cedar...and pine...of posts...
And four by fours...and a platform
of wood...nuts, gears, and bolts...
But there was more to my mill
Than just parts.

There was something about
That mill...it had a soul...
We jibed...

Its voice is stilled
Its "clung, clung" will be heard
No more...
As Stephen Foster said:
"When the wild flowers
Are scattered o'er the plain."

Dear old faithful, hard-working,
Unselfish, loyal friend...
Who stood there for so many
Cold winters and hot summers,
in winds that shook you...

With all your knots, cracks,
scars...and faded red paint...

I loved you.

********30*******
BY MIL
09/08/13




Sent from my iPad

THE LIBERTY HEAD V-NICKEL

*********************************************************
HOW ABOUT A NICKEL WORTH $3,737,500.00
**********************************************************

Time was, even as recently as the 50's and 60's, when in
the good old USA it was sort of customary for a man to
carry around a pocket-full of loose change---and he was
known even to rattle it on occasion. There were probably
a number of reasons for this.

For one thing, during the latter part of the nineteenth
century, nickels, for example, would do what a quarter does
today (and likely more). "Five and Ten Cent Stores" were
abundant in any America town of any size. So many things
cost a nickel...like a beer, a cup of coffee, a hamburger,
or an ice cream cone!

You could get a bowl of chili, a popular item, for a dime or
fifteen cents. A piece of pie was a dime. A nice "plate
lunch" would run you maybe thirty-five cents. A shave and
haircut might have cost you six-bits. A bath in a barber shop
was likely fifty cents. A shoe-shine was a dime, but there
was usually a five cent tip if one was feeling magnanimous!

Another reason for the pocket-full of loose coins was that
serious folding money was not to be found among the
common folks. Cash was always scarce in the early
years of the Republic, and on into the Twentieth Century.
Too, this pocket full of coins may have been a loan from the
wife's "egg money."

In tracing the history and habits of the people of an era,
their currency is a major and fascinating subject. What
kinds of coins did they have? What symbolic images
were struck on their pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters,
half dollars, dollars, and gold pieces? What were the coins
our grandfathers carried when they plowed, clerked,
delivered mail, barbered, ran cafes, taught school, and
lived their lives as Americans? Did they carry silver, gold,
or alloy-type coins?

Our subject is one particularly interesting US coin---known
as "The Liberty Head 'V' NICKEL." The "V" is for "five." This
nickel was issued in the US from 1883-1912. It was
commonly called the "Liberty Head Nickel," or the "V Nickel."

The famous Buffalo Head nickel officially replaced the
"V Nickel" in 1913, but not until someway, somehow,
someone---had struck five "V Nickels" with an unintended
"1913". It is today uncertain as to how and why they even
exist, but yes---there are five extant---and one sold for a
whopping $3,737,500 in 2010.

The Liberty Head V Nickel carries a strange and unusual
history. The reverse side (tails) had the "V" for "five" cents.
But...somehow the "cents" was not designed on the coin.
The mint folks apparently thought the "V" was enough.

When profit can be made, whether legally or illegally,
"enterprising fundsters" will spot any loophole. And that's
what happened with the V nickel. It was about the size
of a five dollar gold piece. Accordingly, they gold-plated
the coin, reeded the edge in some cases, and with the
big gold "V" showing, passed if off as five gold dollars!

Before 1883 ended, the US Mints were forced to redesign
the nickel and add "cents" to the reverse.

And then there is the famous tale of the deaf-mute gentle-
man named Josh Tatum. He somehow came into a supply
of the gold-plated "V Nickels," and began buying small five-
cent items with these coins and receiving change of $4.95.

He was finally caught and charged with fraud. His attorney
got him off, according to the story, by saying: "He duly paid
for his merchandise and merely accepted the $4.95 as a gift.
After all, what could he do, being a deaf-mute and all?"

Many of us old timers came along, one might say, about the
close of the reign of our great favorite Buffalo Nickel, a run
that began, we remember, in 1913, as the "V Nickel" left the
stage. How marvelous and symbolic the Buffalo was to a little
kid, just really getting out onto the world's stage.

In the forties, a Buffalo Nickel would buy all manner of goods
necessary to a young boy's health and happiness...such as
a Snicker, Hershey, Baby Ruth, Black Cow, Walnettos,
two sticks of licorice, a "plumgranate" (across from La Casita),
one half a movie, a sack of pop corn, a five cent hamburger by
the State Theater, a twelve ounce Pepsi, and you know what
else? A pack of Juicy Fruit!! See why we loved THAT coin, and
how handy nickels were!

Many modern folks, who probably don't care much one way or
the other about coins or their history (maybe preferring folding
money), may have never seen or heard of a Liberty Head
V NIckel. I myself, own ONE. It is a 1903.

My 1903 came from someone's pocket---who knows? Maybe
my grandfather carried it in his overalls when plowing. Maybe
Ike or Patton carried it in their cadet uniforms at West Point.
A doughboy might have had it in his muddy uniform in a
WWI trench. (See what I mean about the wonder of coins in
history!)

In closing, I remind you: Be sure to always check your nickels
when you receive change. Who knows? What if they erroneously
struck SIX of those 1913 "V Nickels" in January of 1913, instead
of five? Then there's still one out there and it might come to you
in your change---a coin not known to exist at all!

You might have a $5,000,000.00 coin on your hands! (And isn't
it odd that mistakes can prove to be...so valuable!)

********30*******
BY MIL
09/07/13

THE ALLEYS OF FORTY-TWO

*********************************************
"WHERE DID ALL THE ALLEYS GO...
            LONG TIME PASSING?"
*********************************************
Alleys....
Alleys were conceived
And made for
Little boys---
I'm sure of it!

In the forties,
Alleys were places
To mosey up and down
And around...checking
Our private milieus.

They were secret paths
To places...
Out of the sight of
Big roaming bullies...
They were our
Escape and evasion routes.

Alleys were rough and rustic---
Simple "roads..."
Two sandy ruts, blown out a bit,
And a weedy, raised section
In the middle, grown up with
Weeds of all kinds!

There was cool stuff
To be found in alleys;
Thrown-away stuff
To be sure---
But very useful to
Little boys.

Alleys were just
Unfriendly enough
To make them risky,
Daring, and daunting
For us living-on-the edge
Kids!

They were full of old
Nails, screws, broken glass---
And vicious "goat heads"
That spread into
The sandy ruts.

Every alley, too, had its---
Shall we say---older ladies...
Neighbors....
Who worried about any noise
Or activity in their alley!

We were a nuisance to them---
And they were a
Pain-in-the-neck....to us!
(In life, nothing is ever perfect.)

Alleys were our
Sound stages for
Imaginary stuff!
We were notorious
Actors, often
Plagiarizing movies
We had just seen
At the Lyceum.

Want to know
Who hung out in
Our Clovis alleys---

I'll tell you who:
Big-time actors, that's who!
Gene Autry, Roy Rogers,
Wild Bill Hickock, Superman,
Hopalong Cassidy, Green Hornet,
Smiley Burnett, Charlie Chan,

And TARZAN!!!

Yes! We played Tarzan...if
Some mother would allow
A skimpy Tarzan suit,
On her little boy---
And a dangerous Tarzan
KNIFE!
(But our Tarzans
Were sissies and wouldn't
Go barefooted in our alleys!)

Also, with Tarzan, you needed
Trees to swing in---
(Alas, we had no vines.)
Ah, but the neighbors had
Trees, along their back fences!

Ah--oo--ah--aye--ya--ee-ah...
Could we help it...if Tarzan's
Yell bothered them? We had
To call the elephants, didn't we?

We desperately needed a "JANE,"
To help us play Tarzan,
But all the girls were hiding out
At home, and
No one wanted to play "BOY."

The reasons boys loved alleys
As sound stages---
You could hide behind
Trash barrels,
Climb over, a fence,
And disappear
Into some neighbor's backyard,
And maybe spy on the enemy
From a tree!

John Wayne came
And helped us fight
WWII in our alleys;
I can safely say:
There was not a single
Enemy soldier to be found
Anywhere, when we got done!

We were great script
And dialogue kids...
You could say: Our scripts
Were never finished.
We improvised as we
Went ---along:
"See, Joe, you shoot Ed,
Then jump over the fence..."

Nowadays, boys
Don't need alleys.
They get an overdose
Of violence from
Video games,
Blasting everyone who
Shows up...on screen
With lasers.

They grow up without
Forties boys'
Acting skills.

Come to think of it
There are no alleys
In our neighborhood
Today.....either.

Yes, alleys were made
For little boys...
I'm sure of it!

********30*******
BY MIL
09/04/13

"GOING DUCK HUNTING"

 J2F4 DUCK

****************************************************************
A MOST-FASCINATING WORLD WAR II AIRPLANE!
****************************************************************

One of the most interesting planes of WWII was the Grumman J2-F
DUCK.

The J2F-1 first flew on 2 April 1936 and was delivered to the U.S.
Navy on that day. It was powered by a Wright-Cyclone engine. A
J2F-2 model soon followed with an engine increased to 790 HP. This
plane was a search and rescue type aircraft, capable of being mounted
on cutters or destroyers, lifted to the water with a boom, and taking off
from the water---and landing there as well. It apparently had no
regular weaponry, such as machine gun, cannons or rockets.

An interesting thing is that twenty J2F-3 variants were built in 1939 for
use by the Navy as executive transports with plush interiors. (There was
extra space in the lower part of the fuselage for two passengers or a
stretcher.)

All in all, 584 planes were built from 1936-1957, running to six or
more variants. The final model was the OA-12, a "rescue conversion"
for the AAF (later the USAF). The J2F Duck was used by all branches
of the military---U.S. Navy, Marines, AAF, and U.S. Coast Guard, for
which it was particularly suited.

The J2F was an equal span single-bay biplane with a large monocoque
central float which also housed the main landing gear (wheels). It had
strut-mounted stabilizer floats under each lower wing. A crew of two
were carried in tandem cockpits, pilot in front, observer in the rear, with
"room for a radio operator" if needed. It is not clear where this third
crewman sat. As already noted, there was a compact "cabin" in the
lower fuselage for passengers.

The later models increased the power of the plane to 1,050 HP,
which we can see might be necessary with a full load of people.

They say we are all products of our times. "YOU ARE WHAT YOU
WERE WHEN," was the title of an excellent documentary put out about
35 years ago by the U. of Colorado. It is certainly true that boys who
grew up in WWII have never lost their love of and dedication to the planes
of the era. Most boys then, had old card tables filled with model airplanes,
X-acto knives, pieces of balsa wood, and glue (spilled and dried over the
table! Finished model planes were hanging from the ceilings in their rooms.

So when recently I saw and read about the DUCK, ( for the first time), it
was a love affair at first sight! I discovered this plane while reading Mitchell
Zuckoff's splendid and compelling page-turner, "FROZEN IN TIME," the
story of a U.S. Coast Guard J2F-4 on a rescue mission in southeast
Greenland, becoming lost in a snow storm and crashing.

Such a useful plane it was, having landing capabilities on land, on water,
and as it turned out---on ice. With 584 planes produced, and their having
ship-board capabilities, there must be hundreds of stories out there---if we
could just find them.

A most-gripping story of the Duck is this: At the beginning of WWII, a
squadron of J2F's was destroyed at Maravieles Bay, Phillippines, on 5
January 1942, in a Japanese air raid.

However, one J2F-4 with a dead motor was concealed at Cocoban
airfield during the battle of Bataan. Mechanics managed to recover a cylinder
off a sunken plane in the bay and installed it in the last Duck. This became
the final aircraft to leave Bataan before the surrender of the Phillippines
to the Japanese only hours later.

Among its passengers was the noted Fillipino diplomat, politician, soldier,
journalist, and writer---Carlos Romulo---who later told of his flight in his
1942 best-selling book: "I Saw the Fall of the Phillippines," for which he
received the Pulitzer Prize.

The story of the J2F-4 Duck lost on November 29, 1942 in Greenland,
and related so well in Zuckoff's book "Frozen In Time," is yet to be closed.
Operation "Going Duck Hunting" was the name given to a joint search for
the lost Duck (buried under forty feet of ice and snow) by the Coast Guard
and North South Polar.

This story began when a C53 transport with five crew went down on the
east coast of Greenland. This was not uncommon due to the vagaries of
weather and wind in Greenland. B-17's and other aircraft were often
diverted from their trips to the war theater in England and borrowed for
search efforts.

Accordingly, B-17 PN9E, en route to England with seven crewmen and
piloted by Lieutenant Armand Monteverde, volunteered to search for the
five missing C53 men. Two other airmen agreed to go along and lend more
eyes to the mission.

Caught in a vicious and unexpected snow storm during a search,
Monteverde opted to turn the plane in a new direction and not knowing his
altitude, his left wingtip dipped and struck the ice, throwing the fifteen ton
Flying Fortress into a crunching crash and two hundred yard skid---finally
coming to rest, broken in two, and resting next to a giant crevasse.

All nine men survived though several were injured more or less. In trying
to find ways out of this disaster, some crewmen and rescuers were lost to
crevasses. The men found cold lodging in the tail section and eventually, trying
to escape 125 mph winds, dug a large room into the snow underneath a wing.

A J2F-4 Duck, carried on the rear of the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter
Northland, anchored in nearby Kuge Bay, took off on November 28,
1942, piloted by John Pritchard with radioman Benjamin Bottoms riding
with him. They landed on the ice wheels-down, near to the wreckage of the
B-17. They loaded two of the most-seriously injured men into their Duck,
took off successfully and made it back to the Northland, landing alongside.
The plane was then lifted to its cradle by a special boom.

Dedicated to their jobs and determined to rescue the whole crew with two
or three trips, they returned on November 29, 1942, this time landing
directly on their pontoon and ripping an eighteen inch deep ditch in the ice.
Finding the weather closing in on them, soon after they landed. They
hurriedly took the radioman, Lolly Howarth, from the B-17, loaded up
and took off into a snow storm.

Pritchard's Duck with Bottoms and Howarth aboard radioed for signal
guidance from the Northland, but they never made it to the ship. They
crashed into the ice several miles from the wrecked B-17. For a number
of years during and after WWII the wreckage of their Duck was visible
to other planes, and was marked on various maps. Then all traces
disappeared under an estimated forty feet of snow and ice.

(How the remaining Flying Fortress survivors were all finally rescued
makes a most readable story by Zuckoff. Twin-engine PBY's are
brought in to land on the ice on their floats. Several of the survivors
were actually living on/in the ice up to nearly five months.)

In the summer of 2012, a joint expedition was mounted by the Coast Guard
and North South Polar. Various metal and radar detectors were used to scan
eight or ten possible locations where the remains of Pritchard's Duck were
suspected to be. Near the expedition's end, as some members were leaving,
an anomaly was detected in the ice---holes were drilled, a camera was
inserted and the plane's remains were seen at 38 feet.

In the history of the United States Coast Guard, it is said that Pritchard
and Bottoms are the only two servicemen ever unaccounted for. Zuckoff,
himself a dedicated member of the 2012 expedition, states: "The Duck's
heroic story is braided into Coast Guard lore." There is a 2013 expedition
planned to bring back the remains of Pritchard, Bottoms, and Howarth and
possibly even the plane. (A P-38 fighter plane was buried much deeper than
the Duck; a room was thawed around it, it was dismantled, brought to the
U.S., rebuilt, and is flying.)

"GOING DUCK HUNTING" was an unofficial, but serious way of saying:
"We're going to find our men."

The saying in the Coast Guard, which is called upon for all manner of
dangerous rescues, many in stormy seas, is: "We have to go out...but we
don't have to come back."

I learned the Coast Guard song in La Casita School...and the motto:
"SEMPER PARATUS"---"ALWAYS READY."

B-17

PBY

*********30********
 BY MIL
7/15/13

"HAVE YOU READ WAR AND PEACE?"

****************************************************
A GREAT FRIEND....THE INTERNATIONAL
COLLECTORS LIBRARY!
****************************************************

This question, "Have you read War and Peace?"---oft
heard in the 50's when I was in college, and even later
on, is seldom heard anymore. Why I don't know. Maybe
twittering and tweeting and "reality" everything has taken
us over! Maybe reading War and Peace is not deemed of much
consequence these days. Have we entered some sort
of...new era?

That question was heard in those years, anywhere and
everywhere, sometimes as a kind of benevolent
joke---referring to the thickness and difficulty of that awesome,
daunting tome, War and Peace. Now and then you'd hear the question
even on a talk show.

Along about the same time during my junior year in college,
I ran across a brochure published by The International
Collectors Library, advertising their simulated leather-
bound, and stamped in gold covers.... classic books. Not
only that, the pages, top and front were gold leafed.

I ordered one just to check them out. (Somehow or other,
in spite of a great high school education, I had missed out
on the classics...and I felt my lack.) My book came...and you
guessed it: I had ordered "War and Peace!"

My reader, you are going to laugh at this---but it must be told
in my story! The ICL books were the best-smelling books of
any books I ever had. How great! For $3.65 plus freight, I
received a stamped leatherette book, like from an English
estate library---that had a wonderful "new, booky" smell that
in itself seemed to promise glorious hours of accumulating
knowledge---old archaic stories, ideas, customs, and times---
almost like eating delicious food. Watching me, you'd have
thought I was gaining learning by inhaling, rather than reading!

I soon had a number of these books in my meager college-boy
library and over time, about twenty-five or more. There were
books available from authors around the world: Russian novels
were bound in red; British in blue. American classics were bound
in brown; French in maroon...and so on.

My first four were all Russian: "War and Peace" and "Anna
Karenina by Tolstoy; "The Brothers Karamazov" and "Crime
and Punishment" by Dostoevsky. I read three of the four, but
not Karenina. It's okay, my Beloved Editor has read it enough
for both of us and we have seen every film version of it. There
is an "Anna Karenina" movie on order right now from Netflix.
(She swears she's read "War and Peace"... but I can't remember
it.)She claims she pulled an all-nighter at Wayland to finish the book
for a test.

Yes, I read "War and Peace" during the summer of 1954, my
last one at home. I was working to save money for my senior
year of college. There was no TV then and I tackled it every
night. It was touch and go for the first 80 or 90 pages because
of the difficulty of getting oriented with the Russian names;
also there are many "diminutive and endearing" variations,
particularly with girls' names---to deal with. As classics go, it
was okay. Maybe like getting done with a big dose of medicine.
Forevermore then, in society, if the BIG QUESTION ever came
up: "Have you read..."War and Peace," I could proudly say: "Yes."

Sadly, The International Collectors Library is no more. A great
idea and classics source faded away. First they dropped the gold
leaf pages and the edges were white. The stamped bindings lost
their leathery feel. (Not to blame ICL---books generally went from
$5.95 to $25.95 over those later 20th Century years.) We were
even shorted on the smell! Prices went up, and sometime or other
I dropped out.

There must have been several hundred classics on their list.
Here are some of mine, that I have read:

"WAR AND PEACE".....Tolstoy
"THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV"....Dostoevsky
"CRIME AND PUNISHMENT"...Dostoevsky
"JOHN BROWN'S BODY"....Benet
"MADAME BOVARY"....Flaubert
"LES MISERABLES"....Hugo
"A TALE OF TWO CITIES"....Dickens
"DAVID COPPERFIELD"....Dickens
"THE RAZOR'S EDGE".....Maugham
"THE SUMMING UP"....Maugham
"THE WAY OF ALL FLESH"....Butler
"JANE EYRE".....Jane Austen
"PRIDE AND PREJUDICE"....Jane Austen
"WUTHERING HEIGHTS".....Charlotte Bronte
"GONE WITH THE WIND"....Mitchell
"PUDD'N HEAD WILSON"....Twain
"PRINCE AND THE PAUPER"....Twain
"LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI"....Twain
"FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD"....Hardy
"THE THREE MUSKETEERS"....Dumas
"THE MOONSTONE"....Collins
"THE PICKWICK PAPERS"....Dickens
"POEMS OF HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW"
"GREAT EXPECTATIONS"....Dickens

Recently, in searching for the present status of ICL, I
learned they had discontinued their fine books...I think,
in the seventies. Then somehow I ran onto some very
interesting information. There are ICL classics available
on eBay (and likely any used book search service.) It is
worth your searching just to see and know about these
books, and read some of the many titles that are available.
You will note on close scrutiny, that in the eBay collections
available, some pages will be gold-edged and some white.
The gold ones actually denote an earlier, better quality book.

There are several "sets" of classics available for sale...books
that someone collected in earlier years. One set of 22 books
is about $109.00 shipped. Another set of 19 books is less than
$100.00. A better bargain you'll never find for these classics.
It would be a good gift for a reading-young-person (if there is
such an animal!) If I were younger or had a mountain cabin
in the Yukon, I'd grab them to expand my collection.They
warm-up a room, as classics always do! (Alas, so many books,
so little time!)

Check them out; you might want to just get a few and settle
down, "far from the madding crowd," and read a bit, in some
older "reality" from the past! And don't forget "War and Peace!"

Who knows, you might be lucky and get an ICL book from
eBay with a little "old bookish smell" remaining!
******************
(Epilogue: I didn't discontinue my classics-reading. In 1976,
a company came out with the ONE HUNDRED best books
of the two hundred years of United States nationhood. They
WERE bound in real leather with specially treated paper, to
last a few hundred years. These became mine at one- a-month
for eight and one third years. There is absolutely nothing quite
as grand as a leather-bound-book!)

*******30******
BY MIL
7/21/13

Sent from my iPad

WIND, RAIN, POETRY....AND THE ATTIC

******************************************
ON A COLD, COLD NOVEMBER DAY OF FALLING LEAVES!
******************************************
It was one of those rare freezing, blustery, early fall days. The
weather, I mean, was mean! We'll likely never see another day
any worse.

At dawn, we woke up to gray skies. Whipping, whirling winds,
were pummeling the house with sheets of sleet and rain...in
blasts that rattled some of the windows, and randomly even
shook the house.

It was the kind of wind that, down on a West Texas farm of
seventy-five year ago, they'd have said: "It was AWFUL!"
The leaves had been turning for some weeks, and many
had fallen. This was a tree-cleaning wind; leaves were flying
everywhere and scurrying happily along curbs.

A lot of attics have air conditioning and mine does, but we all
know that the best attic time is fall and winter, when things
get cold outside. Also I've got it fixed up pretty good with a
wood stove, a big unfinished pine 1/10 wood bookshelf,
a surplus steel cot, a rocking chair, a little cabinet bought at
a garage sale (for my 1960's coffee percolator.) and my
salvaged old toaster oven.

And then course, there's the the main thing---my little (former office)
fridge. It is full of V-8's, Hires Root Beers, diet Pepsis and Dr.
Peppers, and big Nehi oranges---stuff that "Country Boy Bob"
likes to drink, when he comes by for a visit, Also my little creamers,
rescued from restaurants...for coffee!

This storm was going to be a doozy---I could tell. So I got a quart
of water in an old Mason jar for my coffee pot, grabbed our bag
of Starbucks' "morning buns", and headed upstairs to some "house-
cleaning." Translated, that means: relaxing, resting, reading, writing,
reminiscing, checking all the old diplomas and photos on the wall,
looking through books on the shelves, all the while peeking out the
attic window periodically to see what was happening.

Have you ever sat down to such serious reminiscing that you got
an ache in your throat...a good ache? I believe they call it a "lump."
Be warned: attics are good for that!

Right over my head, I could hear the sheets of sleet being blown
against the roof, as if some giant were slinging buckets of sand
our way, and enjoying doing it! I put on a pot of strong coffee to
perk.

I threw a couple of small logs into my wood stove and quickly
started a fire with a firebrick thingie. I set the trusty old wooden
orange crate beside my rocking chair, put my steaming coffee cup
and rolls on it, selected a favorite poetry book out of the shelf,
grabbed an old quilt and settled in. Friends, life does not get
much better than that!

The old quilt was made circa 1930, likely at a quilting party at
my grandmother's farm. When I was about five, I noticed quilts
on their frames, hanging from the ceiling in her "quilting room."
No telling how many people had been warmed by this quilt
before I inherited it! Quilts are among earth's good things!

My poetry book, 'THE POET'S CORNER", was one I had
stumbled across one day, maybe in a magazine, and had
ordered it. John Lithgow, the famous actor, does a genius thing.
He has compiled a list of about forty famous poets, gives a page
or two bio on each one---setting forth a summary of their lives,
careers, literary contributions----printing one of their best poems
and listing others. Not only that, he provides a CD recording of
the printed poems being read by noted actors or actresses.

Lithgow, obviously a person with literary perception, has hit
upon a clever way for Joe Average to read a poem every day
or two and enjoy it...and learn more about the poets. He calls
his book: "The one-and-only poetry book for the whole family."

Sit with me (in spirit anyway) here awhile, over there on that
comfy chair, and let's read a bit...
**************
"THERE IS NO FRIGATE LIKE A BOOK"
-----Emily Dickinson

"There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Couriers like a page
Of prancing Poetry---
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the human soul."
**************
Oh, here is one of my favorites. they call the author
"The Mythical Visionary."
"THE TYGER"
----William Blake

"Tyger, tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"
***************
Here is a poem the Beloved Editor and I did not quite get,
but----"not to worry"--- we liked it.
"DAYS" ----Philip Larkin

"What are days for?
Days are where we live;
They come, they wake us
Time and time over
They are to be happy in
Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question
brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running o'er the fields."
*************
"SONNET LXXV"
----Edmund Spenser
A monument stands today in Westminster Abbey and
says: "The Prince of Poets in his Tyme."

"One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away,
Again I wrote it with a second hand
But came the tide and made my pain his prey.

Where when as Death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew."
*****************
"DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT"
----Dylan Thomas ("The Modern Romantic")

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right;
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night."
****************
"ANNABEL LEE"
----Edgar Allan Poe ("The Macabre Poet")

"It was man and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee,
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me."
****************
"TO A SKYLARK"
----Percy Bysshe Shelley ("The Radical")

"Hail to thee, blithe spirit
Bird thou never wert,
That from heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unmeditated art."
******************
"A PSALM OF LIFE"
----Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time.

Footprints that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait."
***************
"THE RED WHEELBARROW"
----William Carlos Williams

"so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens"
***************

"THIS IS JUST TO SAY"
----William Carlos Williams

"I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
******************
I have enjoyed my coffee and Starbucks' rolls, and the
lonesome old wind that moans through that little opening
I always leave at the bottom of the window, by the sill.

I miss old Bob.
A lot of times he comes to visit and we sit up here and eat
sardines and onions and Ritz crackers...and just talk. We've
been friends since 1939! He keeps me posted on things
that happen in my hometown---Clovis. I really wish he were
here so we could talk. I get drowsy just reading. Poetry can
make a fellow sleepy. Ho Hum.

Where's my New Testament. My wife was reading a
great Bible verse from Facebook yesterday. Here it is.
I think I'll read it. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (NLT)

"That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are
dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our
present troubles are small and won't last very long. Yet
they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them
all and will last forever.

So we don't look at the troubles we can see now; rather,
we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the
things we see now will soon be gone. but the things we
cannot see will last forever."

I really do like that promise.

Ho...Hum...zzzz---zzz---zzzz............

*******30*******
BY MIL
09/01/13

CLOVIS: "LAND O'LAKES"

         

GREEN ACRES LAKE

CLOVIS: "LAND O' LAKES"
by Bobby Snipes,
Guest Writer

(MIL'S note: Having grown up in Clovis, beginning
in 1938, and left for college in 1951, I have remembered
few, if any lakes in or around town---except maybe those
low places that always filled when it rained. There is a
basic rule of boyhood, that I have realized in later years:
boys are very interested in the geology and topography of
their milieus. Bob is simply bringing me up-to-date.)

GREEN ACRES LAKE

The lake with the carp is the football stadium lake. For years
when we would get several good rains as you remember, the
water would cover the road which was North Main. Even after
they raised the street's height rains would still cover the road and fill
the football field.

Finally, about 12-15 years ago they put in a drain which would
carry the water underground to Commerce Way and Sheldon.
I think it would drain by the zoo and then passed through a
canal going south and would end up in a playa lake by the dump
grounds.

It is now Green Acres Park... well kept with shelters all around,
a skate board area, tennis area, basketball area and a concrete
walk path all around the lake. Really nice! They stock it in the
summer with catfish and trout in the winter. Has a lot of ducks
and geese that you can feed-----just a real nice park which Clovis
can be proud of.

Of course, it has carp. They seem to just fall out of the air; also
some big gold fish which are essentially carp, grown up. I guess
people get tired of their pet fish and they take them to the lake
instead of flushing them down the commode.

DENNIS CHAVEZ PARK

You remember that lake west of the Memorial Hospital....well,
they also made it into a park. When we were kids, we played
around that lake catching tadpoles and water dogs; well, 14th
Street ended at the lake. People gradually built houses all
around the lake and a few times when we had lots of rain, it
filled that lake and flooded some houses.

Eventually, the city made some kind of a deal with Eastwood
Construction to raise 14th Street and the co. dredged the north
side of 14th and made it a real deep lake and it holds a lot of
water. I don't remember it flooding any houses after that but I
have seen water over 14th Street. They named it Dennis Chavez
Park and it has a few picnic tables and trees. Just last year the
state started stocking it with catfish and trout also. Now you
have a brief history of the old playa lakes that we played in and
around when we were boys.

PLAYING "PIRATES" ---FOOTBALL STADIUM LAKE

Did Art ever tell you about losing his glasses in that football stadium
lake? One day Art and I were riding our bikes all over town----
just riding, it was the fun thing to do. We ventured east on 13th
Street and they were erecting the water tower. For some reason
or another they were not working but they had that center water
tube laid out for erection. Well, Art and I rode up to that tube and
it was about 5' in diameter so we rode our bikes through that tube
several times. It was fun but we finally got tired of that and drifted
on north to the football field and the lake.

As we were riding up to the lake we noticed what looked like a
raft that someone had very shoddily put together, obliviously to
play on the lake. Well, our adventuresome spirit got the best
of us and we thought we would play pirates and navigate the
lake.

We pushed off, never mind that our shoes, socks and pants
were getting sopping wet. We got out just a ways and we began to
notice those creepy looking black and yellow waterdogs and
we began having second thoughts. Then whoa,,,,,the raft started
coming apart! We were fumbling and falling in the water and in the
commotion, Art's little horned rim glasses fell in the water and
disappeared to the depths of that muddy lake.

Oh mercy!  He began to cry and I cried because he cried. We
barely held the raft together and paddled back to the shore. We
were wet as two drowned rats. We were no longer pirates of old,
but we were two little boys crying because we had to go home
with no glasses and tell Mother.

Actually, I think that we feared that we would get the spanking of
our lives.   Oh, how we hated to face Mother and tell her the glasses
were gone, and tell her how we lost them, when we shouldn't have
been there in the first place. Well, God bless her sweet heart, we
didn't get a spanking but we did get the lecture of our lives;  after all,
those glasses cost $12.00.

Yes Mil, Green Acres Lake is about half of a mile from our house,
and that's where I caught the carp mentioned in my "CARPE DIEM"
story.

DENNIS CHAVEZ PARK

                                                             

 DENNIS CHAVEZ PARK

*********30*********
BY "COUNTRY BOY BOB"
For MIL'S Place
7/22/13