There’s Not Much You Can Do, but Go On —–Monday, February 25, 2019

(Pete and Francis wedding photo) 

My paternal Grandmother, Francis Dorsey Shipley married Peter Edward Doyle on the 10th of September 1921….she was 19 and he was 31.   Gram said they were very much in love, although, her dad did NOT approve of the marriage. (That is another story for another time.)

But for this story and this time, I wish to write to you about my Dad.

Lester Allen Doyle was born January 1, 1926, in Brea, Californa five years after Gram and Grand married. He was the only child.

(Pete, Francis, Lester)

By the time Daddy was 8-going on 9 the family had moved back to Delta, in the Read area and started farming. (The farm now is growing houses and roads. Sigh.)

(Last photo ever taken of Pete)

Grams said it was an extremely happy time.  Daddy’s memories are much along that same line of thought.

Then when Daddy turned 9, that September his Dad died.

And the world turned upside down.  Gram sold the farm moved to Eckert and found a job.

(Ralph Holder, Francis, Charley, Tuff, Lester in the front of Francis, Jr. in front of Charley) 

When Daddy was almost eleven, Gram married Charles Albin Holder. Charley had lost his wife to a brain tumor and was raising three boys alone.

(Lester, Ralph, Tuff, Jr. in front of Ralph) 

Actually, this was tough times for my Dad, he never felt part of the family…ever. (See how he held his hands behind his back trying to not take up lots of space), although, Gram was more than thrilled with her new life.

(Lester, Ralph, Tuff, Jr. in front of Ralph)

 

At one point Daddy ran away from home, going to live with his Uncle Ott Doyle. Dad stayed with Ott and his family for a goodly amount of time.  Then one day, Ott took Dad for pickup truck ride and gave him a wee bit of advice about life:

(Lester and Francis) 

“Sometimes, Les” my Dad quoted to me one day,  “There’s not much you can do about what life hands you, but go on.”

After more heart to heart talk, Daddy went home.  Then when he just turned 17 he talked his Mom into letting him go into the Navy –it was WWII.

(Back row: Momma, Charley, Francis, Kay Jr.  Front row: Danny, Me holding Gary Holder and the little boy next to me is Randy Holder.   I wanted to be a nurse so I wore my Nurse uniform everywhere until it wore clear out. 🙂  )

Back home Dad married Momma, had Danny and I and we grew up living very close to both sides of our grandparents and Charley’s youngest son, Jr., and his family.

(Charley’s Mother Mattie, Charley Holder, my Dad, Me, and the baby is our oldest daughter, Shannon) 

Dad continued to always treat the Holder’s like they were his family.

Even after Gram had died, my Dad took care of Charley as if he were his own father, bringing him to stay a week at a time with he and Mom and taking Charley out to eat once in a while.

One day I asked Daddy why he kept on taking care of Charley even though things were always ‘sorta off’ with Charley.

My Dad looked at me very seriously and said: “My Mother would have wanted me too.”

My heart crumpled with that statement.

I look back at Daddy’s life, sometimes, and realize he sat a huge example for me.

I love you, Daddy.

From my heart to your world,

Linda

 

Winter Came Visiting Once Again—-Sunday, February 24, 2019

We had winter all over again…it roared in Friday night complete with a nasty wind

Then Saturday we started a small but delightful warm-up

Mindy cat didn’t mind, she scampered blithely through the snow as I went about my daily work

The sun dazzled on the whiteness whenever it broke through the clouds

We had many little hungry tummies at the feeders

Pressing close to the seed cakes the Red-Winged Blackbirds dwelled, lingering, gathering energy to make it through the bitter cold which followed.

We woke up to 10*f (12c) weather this morning.

Still, it was beautiful!

Today we are to experience MELT with the temperatures rising to 40* f (4.4c) or so this afternoon.

Our world will be trickling water and patchwork fields and roads will appear.

There is a rumor, put forth by the weather people, that we will see 50*f (10c) weather and rain in just a few days!

I’m am excited just at the thought of it.

SPRING IS COMING!  I just know it!!!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda

 

In a World Without Chaos —- Thursday, February 21, 2019

Chaos is hard to live with…we all fear disorder, confusion, upheaval

Because we fear bedlam we work very hard to discipline ourselves so nothing unexpected occurs.

Of course, if there is order, discipline and ‘nothing to worry about’.

THERE IS NO MAGIC!!! Ever, for why would you need it!

But….back to the need to have order—- on Monday, I wrote about my mother, grandmother, and grandfather

From that post, I learned about Hobo signs…Chaucea left a comment telling me: “Yes! Hoboglyphs! (For instance, four horizontal lines means “Housewife feeds for chores.”)Its a truly fascinating history of hoboglyphs/hobo code, especially during the Great Depression”.

On my Facebook post-Teena Hubbard also left me a comment about the Hoboglyphs suggesting a web search on this most fascinating subject
and Mr. Cooper, of the lovely moon photos, sent me this chart!  Perfect to share with all of you.
So, even those men, living in chaos figured out how to have a wee bit of order and magic in their lives!
Perfect!
From my world to your heart!
Linda

 

Same Moon in Two Different Parts of the U.S.A.—–Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Joe sent me photos of the February’s Full Moon gliding over his home someplace way back East

A beautiful moon all glimmering and slivery up there splashing down onto the housetops and into Mr. Coopers camera…to come winging their way to me and then to you!

As for the February’s full moon here

I had to keep watch for a slit in the snow-laded massive wet clouds to capture anything of the moon.

There!  Right there, drifting quickly through a wee tattered cloud while the cold nasty wind beat upon me and scuttled the clouds over the top of that gleaming moon

The moon was just there…brighter than all the black and grey clouds for a few seconds at most

Then the churning clouds splintered the silver light covering February’s full moon into roiling thrashing darkness of twisting heavy moisture.

But for a wee moment in time…I saw February’s Full Moon!

From my heart to your world,

Linda

I Believe in Magic—-Tuesday, February 19, 2019

I believe in Magic…sometimes when I open my email there is a gift to me of pure Magic

And this morning was one of that marvelous Magical moments

A long-time blog reader sent to me these photos of the moon around 3 p.m. at his place

After an exquisite ice storm swept through

The beauty of the ice-covered trees, a jet flying over-head, and that magical moon!

Thank you so much, Mr. Cooper!  Your photos dazzle us!

From my world to your heart, Gentle Friends,

Linda

 

Today I Have Been Remembering My Beloved Dead—-Monday, February 18, 2019

In particular my maternal grandparents, Bill and Ruth Thomas

My memories have made that wee curtain into a thin and frayed veil

Although my grandparents are now shadows in my memory, they are still with me as more than whispers in my heart and soul

I welcome them — these gifts from beyond

When my mother was growing up (in the Great Depression) my grandparents had a home and a business in Corona, New Mexico.  Which at the time had a railroad station and was a throughway onto bigger places.

Granddad’s business was a gas station and garage.

Will built it with his own hands, and he built the house they lived in.

  Grandma planted Heavenly Blue morning glories on either side of the front porch and they put a white picket fence in front of the house.

The back yard was just fenced in.

Anyway…one of the stories I keep remembering fondly is the tramps would ride the rails into town jump off and then look for places to eat or live or just hang out until jumping back on the train.

Or the people moving from the Dust Bowl broken and frequently so discouraged to almost seem dead, having to stop because of vehicle problems.

My grandfather never believed in giving a man a hand-out or credit.  If you couldn’t pay or were desperate he always had you work — sweep the floor, help to do ‘something’.  He would tell Danny (my brother) and I:  “A hand-out never gives a person self-respect.  Always, always give them self-respect THEN help them out.  And when you help them out, it’s okay to give the shirt off your back, because it always, always comes back to you in a different way.”

Now, back at the house, just up the road a short way, and not far from the railroad tracks, Grandma always kept a big pot of soup on the wood stove.  If a person came hallooing at the front gate, either she or Momma would ask the person in, dish up a big bowl of soup sit it in front of the person with a hunk of buttered cornbread.

Then the person would doff their hat (for almost always the person was a man) say: “Thankee, Ma’am, sure is a fine meal.) And move on out the back gate heading toward the gas station to see Mister Will.

Now, since most activities were in the back of the house and through the iron gate back there Momma and her family never really went to the front of the house. But one day Momma had walked down to the garage and decided to come back to the house through the front picket fence gate.

When she got there she was surprised to see lines scratched into the pickets next to the front gate line which looked like this IIII  IIII  IIII

Running into the house she brought her mother back out who just stood there non-plussed.  Not knowing why or what it meant she sent Momma down to the Garage to get Will.

When Will got back and looked at the fence he broke out in laughter.  “Well, I’ll be,” he declared…”Now I understand why we get so many folks eating soup.”  The drifters marked the fence letting folks know here is a good place to eat and where to get a small job.

Memories…a small tear in the veil from beyond,

From my heart to your world,

Linda

A Song of Storms and Wind—-Sunday, February, 17, 2019

Friday night a storm started blowing in

The moon once clear, but with a halo, became fuzzy with clouds

By morning we were in a series of storms

The clouds grey and vaporous, dark and wraithlike

The wind pushing them along in a haunting song of winter’s lullaby

The wind was so sharp and cold it could peel your skin

All around the storm’s outriders turned the world to grey and then white

The wind howled and the rain fell flat and stinging

But by evening the lashing storm had spent itself, moving onward to other parts of the land

The clouds turned to gold and the air filled with sunshine.

Although, we are cold today…the day is beautiful; singing a much different song then yesterday!

From my heart to your world,

Linda

Through a Day of Wintery Mix —- Thursday, February 14, VALENTINE’S DAY, 2019

First thing early Terry got out the tractor and blade and headed out to smooth up the lane and the farm roads.

The cows had made lots of nice little holes in the mud making going down the farm roads a little on the hard side.

And the long lane to highway had holes worn in it from the tires.

Then in the afternoon, the grey tumultuous clouds came rushing in, covering the Adobe Hills at the base of Grand Mesa

There is a beauty in the snow/rain/mix of those clouds only a photographic vision can express.

The girls had to come over to see what Terry was doing

So I took out treats to these bright rays of horse sunshine.

Glory B (her papers say her name is Blaze of Glory) and T’Ata two of the sweetest, fun to be around furry equines anyone could ask for.

You folks have a great day!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda

I Suffer from S.A.D.—-Wednesday, February 13, 2019

 

I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) I have forever.  Even as a child.  Winter, for me, is a hard time.  It isn’t actually winter, its the dark grey days.  When the sun shines (even if it is cold) I have true joy in my soul.

But over time, I have learned to do many different things to help…the daylight producing light bulbs are a huge relief, getting outside and actually working my body helps, just getting outside helps…my worst thing for me is mild depression ( a feeling of being inexpressibly sad)  and a subtle form of anxiety.

Nothing earth shattering —I can still function and move forward within my day. I am NOT a clinical case…if you are wondering.

As I’ve aged I realize that depression is lifted from being outside and viewing the world through my camera. Taking photos give me great joy…and that makes me feel renewed.

Surrounding myself in color is another thing that lifts me up. I even use Christmas lights all year, changing the colors to match the month…Blue for January, Red for February, Green for March, Purple for April, White for May, June, July, August, Gold for September and October, Multi-colored for November and December.  I change the colors in my house also (just the table clothes and paper flowers to match the color of the month).   That way I have color inside that matches the stunning colors of outdoors.

And paying attention to all those delightful and marvelous living ‘things’ which populate our earth; showing me that each day is a wonder and each day moves us toward another day, which then moves us toward a hint of spring, even if the day we are in (like today) is a firm reminder we are still in  winter with cold winds and heavy drifting clouds.

WHEW!  That was a LONG sentence!

Well, I apologize from baring my soul to you…but if you suffer from SAD maybe my 70 years of experience on how to help maybe just might help you.

  • ´*¨`*• ♡¸.• •❥

From my heart to your world,

Linda

In the Harsh Wind of a Forever Winter Day—Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Even though the wind was terrible, blowing everything sideways and so chilling one thought the Arctic had suddenly slipped down to gather on the farm

The shadows were still beautiful

Shrinking and thinning as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky

The snow clouds fled and what snow was in the sky never stayed

But the joy of the whole day was this photo!

Finally a beautiful photo of the Red-Winged Blackbirds!  Finally!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda