Good Day for a Hike and a History Lesson...

After a day of cloudy, windy rain and overcast skies Saturday was sunny and warmer so we took the opportunity to drive to San Augustine, Tx to check out Mission Delores State Historical Area for the history and some light hiking.  

Of course the Spanish Franciscan Priests probably had good intentions when they first came in 1721 to build a mission but there was some soldiers and politics involved and since there was the possibility of the French employing the same program heading west from Louisiana this and other missions build through East Texas served as an early warning for foreign intrusion. It's a familiar strategy that's still in use today in various places around the world. 

I kind of imagine a young Spanish GI, he's a long way from home. In the 50 on again off again years the mission there might be a few priests, two soldiers and the local Ais Indians. The soldiers probably did the work of hunting, fishing, building and gathering firewood. After a day of this they returned to the mission to be quizzed, "See a Frenchman in the woods anywhere?" 

We know from evidence unearthed at the site that it probably was not this scary for a young solider to see a Frenchman in the woods. With everyone so isolated there seems to have been illegal trade that went on between the groups. Pottery shards made by the Indians and from England, France, Holland and China have been found around the site. Like the song says, come on people now, smile on your brother...           

 

We also visited Lobanillo Swales, the preserved ruts of the El Camino Real. These 12' deep ruts were made by the traffic of 300 years worth of travel by anyone that was anybody going between Louisiana and Mexico City. LaSalle and de Leon passed through here. Early Texas pioneer Gil Y'Barbo had a ranchero nearby. Chances are you know some of his kin folks. They are still in the area. Miguel and Milo, instead of making history on this spot were simply considering the eternal question. Mexican or Cajun this evening? 

Seems reference material indicate two swales but the historical marker indicated three trails running parallel. I could see three provided this is not a four wheeler track since this is on private land. Visitation by the public is welcome just behave. 

Mary and the boys on a creek at the mission campground. Good looking spring water was one of the reasons for settling here and if this flows all year might be a worthy spot this summer to cool it.  

Cathy hikes down the swale. Her shoulder replacement is fine and we will probably resume water aerobics tomorrow. This light hike was good conditioning for some inactivity due to a couple of other ailments that cropped up over the last month. 

We did pick Cajun for supper and the kids would not eat the catfish. The screamed, "Not the same as Pop-Pop's!"  

Not My Favorite Time of the Year...

 It's been just below freezing for several nights here and while there are many places where that will be the case till the month of May I'd just soon have winter over. I'd like to be fishing and though I look back through the fishing log and see many photos of us in coveralls and facemasks on a winter wind swept lake the circumstances of Cathy's recent shoulder surgery and a couple of lingering ailments, small grandkids who would be absolutely miserable when they outgrew their snowsuits during the trip and a slight cold I have had make me wish to fish on a day when no shirt and no shoes feels about right. 

I know that sounds a bit lazy because the fish are probably biting. After all Cathy fell in the lake on a December day when we caught our biggest catfish ever. Various duck hunting adventures over the years have left me pretty soggy. I guess I have become a bit afraid of being cold even though I own suitable clothing for any adventures you might go on in this neck of the country. 

I don't think I am suited to live north of Tyler, Tx. All hail summer and girls at the beach. 

 

When the Light and the Noise Shines in Your Eyes...

 We name the bike trails we ride in our rural neighborhood. There's the cemetery, the "L", the East Tex loop and one I don't ride too often we call the "T". I call it the "T' because you ride a long straight road and come to the choice of left or right and not being 100% where they go I turn and around and ride back because the distance I have covered has been enough to maintain the health of a 67 year old man, at least for this day. 

Riding the "T' recently as I approached it I heard growing sounds of machinery that I had not noticed the last time I rode this route. I passed a couple of those country mansions that are springing up all around my area, places that sell for $300,000 to $500,000 depending on acreage and there was some type of well, gas or oil reared up above the tree line behind these homes. 

Now of course I am guilty. as singer songwriter Randy Newman said, for the the rest of my life. I drive a big pickup pulling a camper and my preference for a hybrid car and the lithium ion battery on my e bike coupled with recent rare metal finds in the USA will threaten to turn Arkansas into a strip mine. It does appear that someone is going to have to have things like this in their backyard.    

From the looks of the clearing there will be more than one well going in here. So more noise and I would imagine these work places are pretty well lit at night. I live on a pretty dark dead end road and recently some new neighbors put up lights. Thankfully not permanent installations but shop lights and extensions cords strung through the trees while pretty bright are not showing signs of making it through the winter. I've been here 42 years and have lived through worse   

    

After a couple of well photos I took a dirt track across the county road into another clear-cut area and spotted a deer stand and feeder. No one was around and there were deer tracks in the road so I would imagine while hunting success was possible is happiness possible?

Modern life has evidence of 1st world people who have everything being unhappy. This indicates that the quality of the experience might not be all that good. I can imagine a hunt in a wilderness area using ancient skills as enjoyable but sitting in a deer stand in the middle of a clear cut waiting for a deer or the rig workers to show up leaves a little something to be desired. Same with a spending a half mil on a house and having an oil rig running loudly and brightly next door.

Of course that will probably happen to me. A decade or so ago my neighbor's cow field was surveyed by crews drilling holes and setting off charges to sound for what was beneath the ground. My neighbor died a few months ago. The heirs are going to want that money. 

I'll have to watch out for the oilfield traffic while riding my bike.         

End of the Year Blog Post or It's Just Life...

 I sat down to do a year in review thing today. I put together a picture collage from the last year and there was so much I don't know if you can make heads or tails of the details from the crowded blend of action. I also reviewed back through the blog to get the catfish count for the year and while we are still thankful to be living better that most of the other 8 billion people on the planet December kind of has us limping into the new year. 

Cathy had a shoulder replacement at the first of the month and the joint is doing well and maybe is even a little ahead of expectations. She has been troubled with a lingering urinary tract infection and chest congestion. I have been having great fun with a visit from Katie and kids in from Chicago but Cathy has been out of action for most of it.  

Morgan, Ali and kids made it to Greenville, South Carolina yesterday for his new position with his employer. I'll miss them but it's nice to see your kids and their families doing new and exciting things and we look forward to the travel adventures to see them. 

On a sadder note this week my first cousin Betty Bush passed away at 97 years old. You might have noticed Betty at one of my fish fries. She was a tiny woman who sat and quietly ate her weight in fried catfish. May the Eternal Light Shine on her. I know your family and sister Dixie will miss you. Betty and Dixie were my mother's nieces but so close in age to my mom everyone thought they were sisters. That's Betty on the left with Dixie.  

The catfish count for the year is down. We managed 183 catfish on 9 trips. That does not include 4 or 5 sharks and one sting ray at the beach. That seems pretty paltry compared to some of the 500 fish years we have done but there were many swimming, hiking and tubing trips and at least a dozen camping trips with this old man spending a good bit of time in his lawn chair in the shade. Maybe I should count live music attended because there seemed to be a pretty good variety of that.  

Here's a photo from a hike at Martin Dies Jr State Park yesterday. Of I can survive New Year's fireworks with this bunch tonight I should cruise smoothly into 2025. 

   

  

        

Maybe I Need to Walk There Again...

My doc asked me if I slept well. I said after sleeping several hours I wake up and use the bathroom but get back to sleep easily but then in a couple of more hours I wake for another bathroom break but them I sometimes don't get to sleep as easily and I have to get up and read a book for 30 minutes and then I sleep on till dawn or sometimes after. When you do the math that adds up to 7 or 8 hours sleep which the journals tell us is about enough. 

What I didn't tell him is that second wake up is usually after a very vivid dream that leaves my mind awake and busy. I also didn't tell him because a family doctor seeing a basically well patient that he can get rid of in less than 15 minutes or anyone else for that matter other than a blog reader does not give a flip about what you dreamed.  

A couple of nights ago I woke from a dream like this and carefully sat up on the side of the bed. I kept very quiet so as to not wake Cathy but I wanted to think it over and have good recall since there were many themes at work.

I dreamed I was walking through the French Quarter in New Orleans with someone I knew but it was like the person was a composite of every person I had ever walked through the French Quarter with and also every person I knew that had told me a story about walking through the Quarter. Soon we were out of the neighborhood influenced by the old Spanish and French styles of architecture and entered a darker more slum like area. World beat music with a lots of congas, heavy bass and soulful vocals in an African language carried to us from an indistinct source. It was loud but not overpoweringly so. My composite friend tripped along lightly, almost dancing, occasionally whirling around to see if I was still with him.

We came to what seemed to be fire escape type stairs and began to climb. The steps seemed uneven and hand carved. A tall man in colorful African dress began to ascend the steps behind us and we all arrived at an open air restaurant or bar.

Inside there were quite a few people sitting at a plywood bar on barrels for barstools and it seemed like I knew most of them. We talked about walking down Bourbon Street and after looking at a menu on the wall written in a foreign language that I couldn't make heads or tails of someone told me to order the mosquito plate. "It means something special to them" they told me indicating the waitstaff behind the bar so I ordered. 

A girl sitting next to me who I did not know asked if I always wore a suit. I didn't realize what I was wearing but it was my old grey thrift store sport coat. I told her yes, this color in winter but come summer I would shift to seersucker suits for the hot weather. She asked if I was heading back to walk down Bourbon Street. I said no. I might never walk down Bourbon Street again.

I awoke from the dream and after a period of thinking all this over it occurred that while I've been in the French Quarter a number of times over the past decade I have not actually walked down Bourbon Street since Mardi Gras 2014.  

I never did get that Mosquito Plate. 

               

             

I Got A Shot but at Least it Didn't Blow My Brains Out...

In an age of the keyboard warrior where people that barely got out if high school know more than anyone else in the world and reincarnated taverners and candy sellers hold influential offices with the intention of getting while the getting's good I took a field trip on my bicycle to the old Nerren Cemetery that is about a 30 minute ride from my house. 

My Nerren ancestors are buried there I often make the ride. When I'm on the way I'll stop and make the loop around the closer Rocky Springs where I also have ancestors laid to rest. It's been a few months since I walked that larger burying ground but I always walk the 15 or 20 marked graves at the Nerren Cemetery. There's a few unknown graves marked head and foot by petrified wood and I like to think one of these might be my Great Great great grandfather John Nerren but I might not ever know.

Usually on these walks something reveals itself to me, a thought, an inspiration and today with public speculation and the grabbing of headlines by the taveners and candy sellers it occurred to me that here is the evidence that science is real and vaccines work. 

On July 16th, Albert Nerren, son of Alexander and Sara died. He passed on the same day he was born. In 2025 Texas has ranked 21st in the nation in infant mortality or 560 out of 100,000 births. I don't know what it was in 1923 but I think if you are born you should have a chance at health, clean water, education, good food, peace and a stable climate. Science works remember so these things should be achievable. Of course good schools are pretty boring if compared to space travel to an uninhabitable planet so let's just move on.           

To put this in my historical record, my parents were born in 1293 and 1924 and if Albert had lived I would have gone to school with his children.  

 It's pretty peaceful in the old cemetery. 

Wait a minute July 1923 just got worse. Alexander and Sara lost another child, Marchie who was 5 years old 7 days later. One day I might stumble on the causes of death, there's infomation out there and probably there is a living person quite possibility living within a few miles of me that knows. 

I've had a few bad years before, maybe the job was not going well or a couple of older relatives or friends passed on to their eternal reward but I've never lost two children in the same week.  

                     Here's the grave of Alexander 1851-1947 and Sara 1837-1904. If I think about that span of history I bet these people saw and knew some stuff.  

The best I can guess is that a Nerren married a Richardson which is why there are several from this family included in this cemetery. James David, born May 24th, 1942 and died the same day. If Hames had lived I would have probably had him for a rehab patient. I've met lots of cousins this way.  

Here's a photo I found on the internet. It's Alexander with what I imagine to be surviving children. I'd also guess late 1940s after the war. It would not be long before he was gone. 

I hope all this gives you something to ponder and I always recall Faulkner's quote: 

"The past is never dead. It's not even past."

 

Looks Like I Won't Get That Tree Up This Year or What is This Christmas Spirit...

Looks like we won't get that tree up this Christmas. I haven't even bought any presents. There's been stuff going on such as Cathy's shoulder replacement, Morgan and family moving to South Carolina, the fact that our planned Christmas Gathering/Wild Rumpus won't actually be until February when MOST of us will be able to be in one room and one thing or another.

We do have three poinsettias, good grandparenting there to put a poisonous plants is a room that regular hosts small children and a friend gave me a dancing tuba player that when you push a button on his boot plays Jingle Bells. Despite these meager outward signs there is some Christmas spirit in the air and I will play Jingle Bells if you push my button.     

 There will be some family gatherings before the end of the month with Morgan, Ali and crew this weekend with Texas family including Rose, Tim and kids to see them off and Katie and the boys will drive down from Chicago immediately after Christmas to have a last Texas visit. 

The past week I played Santa for the St. Patrick School Program. The kids all acted and sang great and that was inspirational to me to bring my best acting skills to the table and since it was a pancake supper I was at the table but this song reminded me of the Balkan Beatbox tune Part of the Glory:

Everybody wants to be King of the World 

Everybody wants to turn dust into gold 

Everybody wants to be like me on the mic

Like me on the mic...   

I only made two children cry. This photo might cause confusion, not my house. It's a studio backdrop.  

One of the criers was my own grandchild. 

I also played a tuba Christmas solo show in the park. There were a few walkers and joggers to play for but it was mostly just me but it was something that needed to be done and if I have time I'll do it again. 

If you don't get that tree up that's ok. Just remember the reason for the season and when the Wise Men show up on Epiphany, Jan 6th that means it's Mardi Gras.