A Small Fetish

I have a fascination with buttons. Buttons in a jar. Just love 'em. Don't know why. I'm not much of a collecting type person (although you might think my real fetish was for dust if you saw my house), but if I were, I would have row upon row of shelves filled with buttons in mason jars.

I found a small cache this morning in an old sewing basket. It's funny what gets mixed in with button collections. Other button sized things. A bullet. An old token. Jetsam and flotsam.

I've collected other things for no good reason. Egg shells. Paper trash. These were recycling projects gone awry, actually. I don't know how to recycle without becoming a hoarder.

I am ashamed of my little collecting manias. Then, of course, I see someone on television or in the paper who went whole hog on their toothpick or eraser collection, and now it's worth millions.

Just think, I could have a fortune in eggshells, if only I would have persevered.

Big Fire

- Owens Compound -

Some friends of mine happened to live in the middle of the 2500+ acre fire that was in Fisher County this week. The fire burned right up to the foundation of one of the houses.

Word is that the county commissioners lifted the burn ban on Monday and a rural resident burning trash let the fire get out of control. The fire flared back up on Tuesday and ran a course which included jumping SH 70 just north of the Palava bridge.

Tuesday night I could see the rolling smoke from here at Hobbs and could see orange glowing light from the flames once the sun had set.

I was at the fire location on Wednesday, and the Parks and Wildlife plane was circling overhead while a big yellow helicopter with a hose hanging from the bottom came out, sucked up water from a stock tank and dumped it on flaring hotspots.

The worst damage was the loss of fencing and firewood.

You can read more about the fire on Big Country Home Page.

Barn Razing

- Templeton barn demolished -

The big ol' chicken house has bit the dust. Anyone who has been by my place out here at Hobbs knows the long, rambling barn where my grandpa had an egg laying operation, and later on, my dad and uncle had a hog outfit. My grandma used to say "Let's go down to the farrowing barn" but I thought she was saying fire barn, so I always imagined it being full of flames.

I was a little weepy when I saw it being torn down. It's been there my whole life and I've spent a lot of time in the barn. I was flogged by a hen in there when I was three, I spent the night in there with my grandma and uncle one cold night when we had to keep a close eye on the pigs, and my and my grandma's names were written in the cement in 1966, when the concrete was poured.

Now that it's gone, though, I see that it had out-stood it's time. I was unaware of what an eyesore it was, and it's refreshing to see the trees that were behind. It had also become unsafe, with one side drooping, pulling the other side toward it. I can't wait to see the property once spring comes.

Joe Duncan, my Norway connection via Roscoe, has been telling me about the Arrowheadology website. You can go on the site and talk about your experiences and share pictures with other arrowhead enthusiasts. Joe has posted his own very old Paleo-Indian find under Gallery. It's estimated to be somewhere in the neighborhood of 10,000 years old. He found it north of Roscoe, near Cottonwood Creek.

Ricky Niell sent me a link to a page on his website Razzle Dazzle Art, which is a tribute to beloved Rotan citizen Norma Gibson, who recently died. Should you be in Rotan, be sure to go into the Thriftway grocery store and see how she used her talent to capture the essence of Fisher County in large murals that are displayed along the inside perimeter of the store.

Tom Hargrove dies at 66

Services for Thomas Hargrove were held yesterday in Rotan. His obituary can be read in the Abilene Reporter and the Houston Chronicle. He was one of the most complex people I have ever met, with his unique experiences and work with the IFDC.

New evidence sheds light on Dunn case

The Colorado City Record gives a clear description of what's going on in the Hailey Dunn case.

End of Harvest Moon

Last Tuesday night the sky held one of the most beautiful moonscapes I have ever seen. It was pleasant outside and it seemed like the moonbeams were dancing magic right down to the earth. Nothing magical happened to me, but somewhere, someplace, someone was taking advantage of that beautiful night. It was too powerful to be wasted.

The week before was the Winter Solstice Eclipse. One of my friends was telling me about how she and her daughter got up in the middle of the night to see it. Then her husband got up and came out with the camera to try to get a photo. He was holding it as far away from him as he could to get a better view. They started laughing at him and asked him if he wanted them to get a ladder so he could climb on it for a better shot. You know, get him closer to the moon and all.

I heard some news about the Hobbs School from a very reliable source. The Rotan school district owns the property, which they lease to the Sweetwater school district. There is talk about shutting down the alternative program, but nothing set in stone. RISD is looking at having an empty school campus on their hands.

Wouldn't it be ideal to get a college to lease it as a satellite campus? I mean, A&M interns are working at the RPQRR, so the idea isn't far-fetched. There's even housing for staff. Can't you just see? I can. Busy people adding to the economy and society of Fisher County, particularly the Hobbs Community. I think it's a very exciting idea worthy of being explored.

Lordy, can't wait for the holidays to be over. If I'm ever a wealthy woman, I will travel to another continent this time of year where the celebrating is not occurring. I personally think Christmas is a rich man's holiday and there's too much pressure to fabricate happiness. Oh, well, another year down and it's just about all over. The next big holiday? My dad's birthday!

Riding that Train

I do not mean Jerry Garcia's train. It's my train of thought, that jumps the track and wanders off into meadows.

I recently checked out a couple of books about Thomas Jefferson from the library because I have some interest in his views and accomplishments. In my political naivete, I was surprised to learn that one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence seems to be a liberal.

So, I was reading the introduction to one of the books, reading about all of Jefferson's high-mindedness and philosophical ways, when the train ride began.

First I wondered if Jefferson had slaves (he did). I wondered when and how slavery in New England began. I couldn't imagine how one came about with the idea of using another being in such a way. I figured it was a situation that I don't understand because of the differing century, differing mores and values, or of incidents caused by extreme events. I thought, well, slavery must not have been a new idea to the colonists, if they found the practice acceptable, so I explored (Googled) the history of slavery and came up with historyworld.net. I'm not holding this up as a perfect example, but you can get a timeline and gist. It's a practice as old as time, brought about by population, war and indebtedness.

Jefferson is not the first revered figure whose principals regarding slavery have caused me to question the whole of his character. Moses was the first. It was monumental for him to lead the Israelites out of slavery, to help them find their freedom, only to turn around and enslave others. In Exodus, all those rules about servants sound like rules regarding slaves to me.

I'm going to have to stop the train there and build a platform, because you don't want me to get going on concubines, a subject of note in the era of both characters.

I'm thinking I will consider certain bits of the personae of Jefferson and Moses as valuable, disregarding the portions influenced by the time period and the human condition.

All the Leaves are Brown

Actually, all the leaves are gone, since most of ours are skinny mesquite leaves, not so good for piling up and jumping on.The piling up and burning of mesquite wood is very useful, though, for knocking the chill off a cold winter night.

I am very worried about our chickens and this cold weather. Mr. Husband keeps saying "They have feathers". I can see that. I'm sure what he means is that they're like any other bird and will survive the elements, come what may. If it were up to me, they would have a brick chicken house with a fireplace. Instead I will just decorate their pen with heat lamps.

For those of you who know your poultry, I'm sure you have counted five roosters in the accompanying photo. I know what time five roosters wake up in the morning. 4:30 a.m. To tell the truth, I'm used to it. Those first warm up crows are pretty funny, too. It sounds like "Er Er Er Er, Aack!" Like Bill the Cat coughing up a hairball.

There is a pecking order, haha, among the roosters. It's entertaining to watch them fight. They get all puffed up then jump at each other in the air, claws out, but never collide, like there's a piece of glass keeping them from actually touching each other, or like two opposite magnets. Now, when a rooster gets on the wrong hen (yes, I mean chicken sex), the managing rooster will knock the other off like a baseball that's been thrown. Really, like a rooster ball. No fight after that, the point has been made. You can see the rooster that's been hit trying to shake the stars out of his head.

Well, enough of this titillating chicken talk. Maybe soon I will tell you how the cats are trying to ruin my marriage by scratching up our expensive new couches. They really have it in for me.

One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest

I'm trying to prevent it from being three. The diagnosis was confirmed by Dr. Vaughn yesterday at the clinic in Sweetwater. She said Little Sis had one of the first cases, and it was celebrated by a second nasal swabbing required by the health dept. when the lab comes back positive for flu.

Unfortunately, it had been too long since the first symptoms appeared to be treated. Also too late for the other family members to get preventive shots. So, I will pass on my too-late-to-be-used knowledge. First of all, get a flu shot. If that doesn't happen, get to the doctor at the first signs: headache, fever, sore throat, coughing, etc. This thing is not like a cold, believe me, you'll know the difference. Then you can get the Tamiflu medication. It has to be done within the first 48 hours, or you get to ride the storm out, which at our house, includes some weeping, much loss of sleep and the need to be waited on hand and foot.

We've also had an outbreak of cat colds. I have too many, I know, the fact that there are plural colds signifies that fact. Anyway, if one cat gets a cold, all of them get it. Very contagious among cats. Usually they sail through it in a couple of days, but we had one that worried me and she got to go the vet. I was afraid it would get in her lungs, which caused me to have shortness of breath because a cat with a respiratory illness equals lots of dollar signs. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten that far and she got a shot and some medicine to be taken daily. Both the patients, human and feline, are laying around the living room all doped up.

Yeah, I know some of you are thinking cats are for kicking and just shoot them if they get sick. I live with someone who probably has that same ideology, but I'm definitely a sucker for those furry critters. I can't think of one I've met that I didn't like, no matter how mean or scurvy.

So, I'm urging ya'll to be looking for those flu symptoms. I would only wish it on my worst enemies.

Imogene Taggart dies at age 89

Imogene Taggart died November 17, 2010 in Grand Prairie, Texas.

She was born in Paris, Texas on January 11, 1921 to Leslie and Daisy Templeton. She was the oldest of four children, preceding Johnnie, Haskell and Mickey Templeton. The family would later become residents of Fisher County.

She married Ivey Buster Taggart on April 9, 1937 in Roby, Texas. The couple had two children, Barbara and Jerry Taggart. The couple was residing in Grand Prairie by the time the children were born.

She was preceded in dead by her parents, daughter, brother Haskell and her sister Johnnie.

She is survived by her husband, son, brother Mickey, grand-daughter Robin Morris and grand-son Phillip Taggart, and one great-grandson, Logan Morris.