Happy Birthday to Hammer!

I am not sure how old Hammer is today, but I am pretty sure he is old.  He is married to my oldest daughter.  They live in Longton, Kansas.  They are survivalists to the max.  They have a 40 acre farm, many cats, a dog or two and are right now down to a couple calves.  Usually they buy calves, fatten them up and then sell them to pay the bank the money they borrowed to buy the calves and feed them.  It is not a real profitable operation, but it keeps them off the streets.  They are also raising 4 grandkids which is not a break even operation, but something that needs done.

Hammer had done his 2 tours in Vietnam before Debbie met him.  Needless to say, he had the normal problems that all the boys coming home from there had.  Vietnam was a terrible operation and PTSD is a side effect that is never completely over come.  He still suffers from the effects of Agent Orange as well as the horrors of a war that should never have been undertaken.  Hammer and I are pretty much from the same era.  I know other men who served in Vietnam and all I can say about that is I hope our government learned something from those mistakes, because it was certainly an exercise in futility and anyone who was there still has nightmares even if they say they don't.

I do not know how many years they have been married, but I know it is a lot and I was there that day.  They had been living up in the mountains above Eleven mile Reservoir as I recall, but were in the process of moving down into Pueblo.  Since they were between homes they spent a few days here and in the course of finding a home, they decided they should just trot on up to the court house and "do the deed" which is the equivalent of "getting this shittin' mess over with that Kenny and I had done several years earlier.  I would be one witness and witness number 2 was decided to be a lady named Shirley Smith.  Shirley and her husband, Bill,  ran the UPumpit in Blende.  So off we went.

For some reason, on our way to town we decided that Shirley would be Hammers Best Man.  I was mother of the bride, because that is what I was.  The Judge who was officiating was very understanding.  I am not sure he had ever married anyone in Levi's before, but that is what we were wearing.  Hammer is a big bear of a man with the full beard, biker tattoos and a gruff whiskey voice.  He and Debbie make a great couple.  They went to the motel for their wedding night.  (I know this because I just called her and asked her.)  It was 30 years ago.  Damn!

There has been a lot of water under that bridge and a lot of changing on both their parts.  Well, maybe not changing so much as just adapting to each others wants and needs.  They are talking about moving out here closer to me and I think that would be great.  I guess a lot depends on the 3 grandkids which are currently in their custody.  When life hands us lemons, we make lemonade!  Just the way we are.

Today was also my sister-in-laws birthday.  Not sure how old she would have been because she tended to sugar coat a lot of things.  Sadly, she is no longer on this side of the veil.  Very few of my relatives are.

So any way, Happy Birthday to Hammer!  I know he is on a road trip right now, but I trust he will drive carefully and hurry home to Longton.

Peace! 

Oak Valley Township has a new Trustee!

 

I finally have a child in the elected political arena.   Can you tell by looking that this is my oldest daughter?  Kind of surprised me that she looks so much like me!  Let me introduce you to my daughter Debbie and her husband Carl.  Well, we do not call him Carl.  We call him Hammer.  They live in a small town in eastern Kansas.

 

It seems that dear Debbie has gotten involved in the politics of the county.  This seems to be the only one I raised that is into all the things I hold dear, like recycle, GMO, civil rights, animal cruelty, organic, and on  and on we go.  She was the first to stand up and tell them about recycle centers and I do not know what ever became of that.  She is the first at the council meetings and holds their feet to the fire on all the issues.

 

She has been described as a pit bull.  She stands her ground and listens to what is presented and then explains her point of view and then listens to your point and if it is unfair, the back bone straightens and locks in place and the tail with the stinger that was wagging is now poised right above her head.  When she leaves the table, things are all as they should be and everyone is happy.  Happy is what it is all about, isn't it?

 

Now Debbie did not run for this office.  She did not campaign for this office, but when the votes were all in and the write-ins were counted, she was the clear winner.  She received a letter stating that.  Not sure what this entails, or when the entailing happens, but I am sure she will fulfill her obligation with pride and a fair open mind.

 

And our little Hammer is now the First Man.  Some how when they were  standing in front of the Justice of the Peace with my friend Shirley as their best man (many years ago ) taking wedding vows or roaring the highways and byways of western Kansas on their Harleys, they could not see what the future held.  I sure never dreamed that my survivalist daughter would be the first politician in my family.  I rather thought that would go to my son, but so goes it.  For the record, I am pretty sure she is a Republican!

 

So, I send her my congratulations! 

 

 Hats off to Debbie Kiesel for doing something her mother never had the guts to even try!

 

Happy Birthday, Sonny!

Today you turn 21!

 

I know you think that this is the pinnacle, but you are so wrong.  Now you can drink legally.  You are the age of majority.  21!  Off to Cripple Creek?  Have fun.  I would like to say my work here is done, but that is not the case.

I have yet to be "done" raising any of them.  You were just the last one.  Now it is up to you to go out into the world and make a mark that will tell the world that your momma did a good job.  Tell them that you hold the same values today that I instilled in you for the last 21 years.  True I was not your mother all those years, but I was always there.  Just around the corner and a phone call away.

I was there when you grew pot in your room.  There when you skipped school.  There when you made the merit roll, and when you didn't.

And now you are living out on your own, paying your own way,  with your own girlfriend, your own dogs and whatever else, but try to remember that momma is still here.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR. BRET A. MERCER!!!



 

 

Happy Birthday to the baby boy!

Kind of hard to tell that this is my baby boy.  But it is.  Last one of the litter.  And today he turns 20.  Just one more before the big one.  Course he has already flown the nest and he and his girlfriend are in their own home in Florence.  You would be amazed at what all they are learning.  Gas to drive to and from work is very costly.  And groceries are out of sight.  It is not really necessary to have 2 cell phones with "Everything data" from Sprint for $178.00.  That is not all though.  They have also figured out that if they do not pick up after themselves, house work is a never ending chore.  Think that was their rudest awakening.  I have figured out that they were not the only messy ones living here.
But it is his happy birthday and I can not help but remember where I was when I turned 20.  I had been married for 11 months and was 5 months pregnant with the Debbie.  A couple months earlier we were living in Yates Center, Kansas.  I had gone to the doctor and when he said I was going to have a baby my mind leapt around the small town. 
" Well, where is the hospital?"  That seemed like a very good question to me.  He, however, looked at me like I had just landed my spaceship.
"Well, it is about 75 miles away."
"Well, what about when I get ready to have his baby?  How do I get there?"  Then he sighed and looked at me like I was a complete idiot.
"Well, around these parts, women have their babies to home."  I immediately left his office, ran down the street to where I had left Duane in the pool hall, having a beer to settle his nerves.  When he saw my face he knew we had a situation.
"What did the doctor say?"  And I broke it to him as gently as possible given my terrified state.
"Well, he said pack up your clothes because you are going to have to move back to Hutchinson, cause there is no where to have babies around here."  And we did.
Now what all that has to do with Bret is more than I can understand, but you knew I would make it into something all about me, didn't you?
So, Happy Birthday to the baby boy.  I know he will not get to read this because his new frugal lifestyle does not allow him to have high speed internet and even if he did he does not read my blog.  I only have 3 kids out of  10 that does.  That is 30%.  Kind of poor percentage rate if you ask me, but who am I to judge?
OK. I have got to figure out what to do for the little guy's birthday.  Probably spanking him is clear out of the question.  And when they grow up and leave home, momma is no longer responsible for his every thing like when he was a baby.

But gee, I kind of miss those days.!

Well, the day has finally come that marks the end of the trail here on South Road.

Last night the son and his chosen one started hauling their possessions up the stairs, out of the trailer, and the storage shed and packing it into Jerry's van.  And then the trip to Florence and the new house began.  You know, it is kind of sad to see this happen.  Not because I will be alone, because I am a rather solitary person anyway, but rather because it marks the end of my child rearing days.  Started that little chapter in 1962 and now in 20ll I watch the last little fledgling spread his wings and try it solo.  The only difference here is if  the baby bird does not make it successfully, it will plop to the ground and either die from the fall or a cat will come along and eat it.  Not so with the human race.
I have friends that say, "Oh, he will be back."  I do not think they understand.  I do not want them back.  Not because I do not like them.  Nor because I want to live alone.  Or because I finally have a complete room for my eBay stuff.  I want them to succeed.
I want them to know the thrill of coming home at night after a hard day's work and turning their very own key in their very own door.  I want them to know who mows the grass, who washes the dishes, who pays the electric bill, who buys the dog food.  I want them to know the thrill of something called Independence.  While I did not give birth to this little bird, I taught him to walk, I potty trained him, sent him to school, and tried to instill in him a sense of right and wrong, justice and equality, and all the things he needs to know about being kind to the lesser on the planet whether man or beast.  I have tried to lead by example.  They never did catch on to the Recycle thing or the healthy diet, but I can't win them all.  Now we will see how that works out for me!
They did spend last night here, and that is what it was; the last night under Momma's roof.  When they were getting ready to take the load to Florence, Amanda asked me, "Well, how do you feel?  We are leaving.  You will be alone.  Are you going to miss us?"  And I answered as best I could to this girl who has become like a daughter to me.
"As for being alone, we are all alone.  I have been alone all my life.  Sure I will miss you, but this is life and it is time.  You kids need to build your own life.  You can never be on your own here in my house.  You need your own little corner." 
She did assure me that they will come and visit every day.  Well, every day that they work in the shop in Pueblo.  Maybe not every single day, but most of them. Ah, the exhuberance of youth!  Makes me remember back to the day when I was 19 years old and I looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes and knew I would never be alone again.  I was wrong on that day and have been wrong many times since.
And when it gets right down to it, we are alone and we will always be alone.  And such is life!

Meet the oldest daughter, Debbie and her hubby, Hammer.

Son in law, Hammer and middle daughter, Dona

This is oldest, Debbie and second, Patty off to the right.

This is the littlest great grandson.

And here he is showing Grandma Lou how he can ride his bike!

This is the great grand daughter.  Girls are few and far between this generation!

This is the trap that hangs on her wall to keep grand kids under control!

This is the radio and it actually works!

Welcome to Longton, Kansas and the Bar HD or HD Bar ranch.  I forgot just what she said her brand was.  I know I have the HD part right.  Since they are retired bikers living the good live in Eastern Kansas, I thought HD was Harley- Davidson.  She was quick to tell me that it was Hammer and Debbie.  Might have been H Bar D.  That sounds good!  Crap!  Don't tell her I forgot.  And don't tell her I forgot how long she has been married either!  But I remember that day very well.

Here she came dragging in this giant of a man, hippie type, 2 tours in Viet Nam and what more could I expect out of life?  I had known him about 6 minutes when he said something and I asked him, "Man, are you frigging nuts!" To which he replied, "I sure am and I have the papers to prove it."  Probably the best son in law I ever had!  Devoted to Debbie.  When they decided to tie the knot they picked me up and the lady who ran the U Pump It and off we went to the court house.  I was Maid of Honor and Shirley Smith was Hammer's Best Man.  That is how we do things here in Colorado!  That had to of been over 20 years ago.

They kicked around as kids will do. They lived in Lakin, Kansas.  They moved to Guffy, Colorado.  Then they bought 40 acres on Eleven Mile Reservoir.  They built a cabin with just their two hands.  They went to Sturgis and I am hoping she kept her shirt on, and if she didn't I do not want to know about it.  They moved to Pueblo, then to Lakin.  They bought matching Harley's.I am not sure of the order of all this.  I am sure that they had several "I have fallen and I can't get up moments."  Then they found this little piece of Heaven called Longton, Kansas.

They got the house and 40 acres with a pond and wild Raspberries and the rest is history.  They have horses and I do not know why.  Sometimes they have a goat or a cow.  Look at her picture up there.  Click on it and make it big.  Who does that look like?  That girl is the spitting image of me in more ways than one.  She looks like me, she walks like me, she talks like me, but I think she can spit further than I can, cause I am out of practice.  She can out hunt, out fish, out track and out shoot most men I know.  She can gut a deer quicker than you can bat an eye!

She gets up at 5 AM and feeds the animals, works the land, cans the bounty and has never tackled a job she did not finish.  Her husband loves her, grand kids worship her, her friends adore her, her siblings look to her for validation.  How did I raise such a strong, independent woman?  How did she go from the first tiny baby I suckled to this survivalist, frontier woman?  Beats hell out of me!  I think she was just born with a mind of her own. Course her father might have had something to do with the hunting and that stuff. 

I know Hammer has another name, but I told you I would keep a few secrets.   So, daughter Debbie, know you have made your mother proud.  You were my first born and I think you were a learning process for me.  Hope the next one I had turns out as well.

High School at Plevna, Kansas with Grandma and Great Grandma!

Well, there is nothing more scary in the whole world of young people than the day they leave the secure little nest of Elementary School and venture onto the high school campus.  True it is only 7 blocks away and it is the same kids you have gone to school with all your life, but none-the-less, it was a real heart stopper for me.

I did not start High School in my Beloved Nickerson, I started in Plevna, Kansas.  The entire city population was 112.  There were outlying farms, but I lived in the city proper with Grandma Haas, age 71 and Great Grandma Hatfield, age 98.  Grandma was rather crippled up from a stroke and Great Grandma took care of her.  My job was to help.

Now, I don't know if you ever lived with 2 very old ladies when you were a delicate flower of 15, but there is a lot of adjusting that needs to be done and guess who is going to do it!  First was the sleeping arrangements.  They had a bedroom with a big bed. That was theirs.  Upstairs were 2 bedrooms with beds and all, but I could not sleep up there because I would be too far away and something might happen and what if some one came in and kidnapped me?  So I slept in the downstairs living room on the couch right by the front door, which was never locked.  Ok, Grandma's!

Next I must learn to crochet.  They had a radio, a big wooden thing with a round top.  That was for listening to the stock market and futures reports at noon.  For no other reason was it ever turned on.  It goes without saying that there was no television, so crochet it should be.  With my little hook and size 10 crochet thread I very quickly learned to make a "chain".  That was good enough for me, but not the grandma's. 

After my first chain was about 10 feet long I say the wisdom of learning other stitches.  I was taught the sc (single crochet, dc (double crochet), hdc (half double crochet), tr (treble crochet), dtr (double treble crochet), and then I was on my way.  Soon I had a round crocheted thingy to which I added chains and made loops.  At the end I crocheted around the outside with green thread and that was it.  I had made my first Pineapple Doily! Great Grandma then boiled sugar and water and put the doily in there.  It was then set to dry and the ruffle shaped.  It was a work of art and my first endeavor in the fine art of needlework.

Plevna had a bank, filling station, phone company, post office, mechanic, the school, and a General Store.  Hinshaw's General Store  was the hub of the metropolis, needless to say.  When Grandma sent me to the store she sent me with a handkerchief with the money tied in the corner.  After all it was almost a full block! It was always just the right amount.  I would walk in, tell Mr. or Mrs. Hinshaw that Grandma Hatfield had sent me, hand him the hanky and wait.  He would retrieve what ever it was, untie the hanky, take the money and had me the hanky and the item.  I was then trusted to walk home with both.

There was lots of stuff in that store. Light farm  equipment like rakes, shovels, towels, a few pairs of overalls, socks, beans and crackers in a barrel, and of course groceries.  I went one time with Aunt Mabel and she bought a towel for me to do textile painting on for momma for Christmas.  It had laid on the shelf so long it had lines that never came out, but it was new and it was for momma.  As I recall Aunt Mabel helped me paint a beautiful Iris.  Another form of needlework or crafts or something.

The most important part about the Hinshaws was their grandsons!  They were my age and they were twins and I would go to school with them when school started.  Dale was very light complected, with red hair and freckles and a little on the pudgy side.  Dean was  small and wiry, and darker complected with dark brown hair, very thin.  If you met them you would never dream they were related in any way.  First lesson on twins.  Also my first childhood crush, but I won't tell you which one it was! It actually lasted way over a week into the school year.

The highlight of the summer was when momma sent 2 friends of the family to pick me up and take me back to Nickerson for a few days before school started.  They roared into town on their Triumph Motorcycles and I was in Heaven!  I loved those bikes and the thought of the 20 mile trip to Nickerson was enough to make me walk on cloud 9 for weeks after.  There is just nothing like a Triumph.  Harley's are great and I love the rumble of the motor, which I understand is patented, and I own Harley stock today, but a Triumph was the sign of the times.  It symbolized youth, and freedom, and the open road.  Ah, I digress.

Next week I could start school!  And that will be tomorrow, so see you then. Be sure that my short time at Plevna High School is not at all what one would expect.  So see you then cause you are going to learn about my roots.