Bikes and looking for Gary….or at least his spirit…

by admin

Gary and Handmade Bike Bags[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaI5IRuS2aE[/youtube]

Sometimes I see something creative and inspiring and I have to talk to the person who made it, wore it, put it out there for us. And people are so kind about sharing why…how….. Like Gary, when he told me about his beautiful handmade bike bags.

This is Gary smiling in front of the Delano McDonald’s, where the 21st c. cowboys hang out.

And I think I have sometimes called Gary homeless, just to identify, but Gary isn’t homeless at all.  Because Gary knows more than anyone that this land was made for you and me and he. 

Gary’s outlook on life seemed like a great way to start Monday morning. And, since the days are getting shorter, you might see him.  He’ll be heading from Jackson Hole back down south and maybe hangin’ for a while in Wichita. So, I wanted to alert you to look for him.

We may have met him before and we’ll certainly meet him again. He is a pleasure…

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31x1hYntyKk[/youtube]

And, given all the negative stuff we see about our country sometimes, I feel his outlook is refreshing. Gary takes the things I complicate, and makes me realize how complicated we can make our lives.

I would expect that riding on a bike across the countryside throughout the year is a pretty good way to see how beautiful America really is. Here is Gary, whittling it down to the essence…

 

 

 

New Red Shoes.

by admin

Friends show up in homey places…

Depot, Las Vegas, New Mexico. Jan 2014.

Depot, Las Vegas, New Mexico. Jan 2014.

we never really knew them.

Then nor now….

but somehow….

Rhythm kinda soothin’

photo

for the drama and the dance

energy.. words…non-romance….

xmas lights and nighttime drives

quiet… quiet…place….2lives…

 

take the fork, be on our way! 

time rolls on…plan  the day!

 

But year be New

….& plans not working‘ !!!!??

take the call!     don’t be smirking’…

Bacon-eggs & hopeful blues…

Nothing like Harry’s & New Red Shoes. 

IMG_4304

Happy 2014.  

Home to pens of Kansas, ready to re-load. It’s all in the mind….

IMG_4311

 

 

 

 

 

 

And what will my ghost be like?

by admin

I will quit talking and telling stories. Here are more Springer pictures.

Beautiful old buildings in use.

 Magistrate Court. Springer, New Mexico.

Zia Theater.

Hmm…I think the Zia Theater might be Clayton, NM. Someone correct me.

Worth a stop. It may only be open in summer or possibly moved to storefront down the street, but off and on it has been a flea/antiques market of sorts. I bought some tiny wooden carved cowboy boots here.

This is the R. H. Cowan Livery Stable, a beautiful building.

I cannot read the date.

Brown Hotel just north of the livery stable. Springer, New Mexico.

For me, here is where the fascination begins…

There is nothing more special and interesting than a town that is in some stage of much much later mid-life but is still very much alive…

And when things are left untouched, with no one coming in to perfect, re-work, clean-up or tear out.

To not try to make young again or worry if others see their antique and patina as trash or think it is depressing….it is not.

Simply content to accept…

Just like a person might be….could be….

So honest.

The places I love to ponder. Can you imagine being a small child in this town and playing around these old buildings? And hearing stories and making up stories about what happened in them? What a life!

Here, I’m going to take you on an adventure….

This is where I started...

This is where I saw the first anomaly….the red corrugated tin was fine, but the asian manner in which the side columns were arranged seemed out-of-place….

Yes, something doesn't look cowboy here...

So I ventured beyond and yes, Tonto, it does not look like we are in Indian Country…

Here is a clue around on the north side of the property...

There is some kind of old hotel here. Not the era of the Brown Hotel, of course, but perhaps when Raton had horse racing. Which, by the way, is sorely needed and desperately wanted in rural northern New Mexico. I heard it got caught into politics with horse racing around Albuquerque which is a loss. Nothing can be as interesting or exciting as traveling in places where people have not ventured for some time.

The office wasn't open, but their neon still looks good. Maybe Luminous Sign can bring it back to life!

I climbed up as best I could and this is the view over the stucco wall...

I don’t know if you can see, but there is a pathway that heads in with a bramble arbor that arcs overhead which a person must walk under…It’s like the artist that does those kind of boyscout lashing architectural structures (KU Campus by the Chapel) but in a time before it was art…

this dangles over the wall.

I just really could not scale a stucco wall, but I did see this on a rope over the wall.

A Key?

A clue?

What story to tell…

And what will my ghost be like?

Put a little gravel in my travel….let my mind unravel…77 to Junction City.

by admin
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDK4GEAUjCM[/youtube]

 

Round bales running east and south...

Letting my mind unravel on 77…

Thought it would take a while to say

after 28 years living day to day

8 miles of gravel in my travel

ranch to pavement, tiny bit of the way…

 

But I’m “Sick & tired of this interstate system…”

At least this last two months, now I’m christening

“‘ ‘Wichita-KC Paula’s Freeway…

I don’t know but something miss’nin…”

Another beautiful white frame and limestone barn, not the bank barn of my studies.

Structural tile silo? Can't think it would be well? Dennis Domer? Mike Swann? any comment?

 

I was called mid-week to 77

Burns to Florence and Marian

J.K. Williams old barnyard,

white bank barn still standin’ hard.

 

Roads I’d traveled doing history stuff

Places where the writin’ was more than fluff

Highways, sideways, drainage ditches

Engineering plans that had some glitches…

 

I passed by and got to smile…

Road re-routed a fraction of a mile

cows in stockpens still intact

KDOT got it, had impact.

-a song, my day, my thoughts, my memories my mark on 77 with KDOT, KSHPO, and Citysearch.

Kansas Department of Transportation does a great job!

The importance of the road in the political landscape reminds us of something we are not always willing to accept: 

man as a political animal is always inclined to be footloose, inclined to leave family and home for a more stimulating place. 

p. 27, Discovering the Vernacular Landscape.  J. B. Jackson.

 

Happy memories of School Buses and Drivers…

by admin

My most beautiful photo: Bus, plastic, wind, thistle.

Art has to move you and design does not, unless it’s a good design for a bus.

-David Hockney

I’m not sure how David Hockney meant this. But, I think the design of the yellow schoolbus is classic and timeless. It moves me everytime I see one.  Here are a few reasons why…

All the memories…of…

…the brown leather seats with those upright backs.

…the boys not keeping their hands to themselves on field trips.

John Graves and John Charles Adams playing very hard finger twisting on bus tour of Miami Beach.

…the girls all sitting together in the back, pulling out all the cool stuff we were organized enough to bring on the bus for the trip.  This began with strings for Jacob’s ladder…to Barbies and teen magazine…to makeup and saved school “notes.”

…the teacher, always a fun one with great tolerance like Mr. Nickels, sauntering back to check in that everything was reasonably under control. And not exerting his or hers before heading back to the front to hang with the driver.

…no bathroom.

…the incredible amount of time it seemed before we would get to a rest area as well as the incredible amount of time it took when we did stop.

…Indian Hills Junior High School’ers peering out of the window at our first transvestite encounter in Washington, D.C.

Miami, 12th and Ocean. Lacy and Paula front row, Jack and John safely across Ocean Drive.

Schoolbuses are good places for storage if you have a place for one in your yard.

So many people in rural America can find use for an old school bus.

They are built like an armored truck and seem to last many generations before losing their structure or color.

La Junta County Schoolbus.

They can be used to haul feed or store it.

Or, to organize stuff by category as in this picture.

Transmissions, I think...

 And last, memories of my children and the schoolbus. 

The Adams children were shepherded to and from the 28 miles from the XIT Ranch to Meade Grade School and Junior High on a school bus.

It was where they played with their neighbors after school, maybe did a little homework, heard really bad language from the other kid on the ranch, and heard tales of fun badness from Jimmy Johannsen.

Lacy laughed with her kind-of cousin, Carcy Larrabee who lived on another piece of H.G. Adams landholdings on the uplands of the river off of highway 23, 15 miles south of Meade. And Jack palled with Blake Larrabee, Carcy’s older brother, doing whatever boys do. Their grandparents were cousins and Horace Greeley Adams was their shared great-great grandfather.

They had two wonderful drivers, Mick Friesen and Betty Friesen (not related…there are about 18 Friesen’s in Meade).

They both loved and cared for my children and escorted them safely from school to my doorstep at the ranch.

They were patient at 7 am being the first pickup.

They were kind and appreciated Jack and Lacy for their kindness and appreciation.

And, on the holidays, they gave them sacks of candy and cookies.

They may have spent more time with these parents than with  their own.

And, I could not have been luckier to have these loving hands and hearts be there with them. Thank you, Mick and Betty.

 

 

Wagons Ho! Quinter, Kansas.

by admin

Go West, young woman. Bring your samsonite. Paula à la Horace Greeley Adams.

I know that if I was ever on a Wagon Train across the Prairie in a former life, I most certainly would have had a large trunk labeled “outfits west.”

This is a story to be added to, for the good Kansas girls for whom it was a rite of passage are climbing out of the sideboards. So far, Sally Malley Stevenson, Barb Goolsbee Bollier, Ginna Getto, Linda Warwick Manco and Terry Beach & R. A. Edwards daughters with whom I have to follow up.

I only know how I got there. My grandmother, Mildred Evelyn Lee Ward grew up in Hays, where her father was a professor at Fort Hays State University. This was one of numerous Kansas History outings we took, a few others being the Garden of Eden in Lucas and fishing at Juan Madden Lake though I think it now has another name. There were two other driving trips to southern California and Texas, but many, many to Santa Fe and Taos.

If you’re new to Kansas, skip this next.  Unless, as my father Dean Graves would say, you like to follow Kansas family history as you would a sporting event. He’s very good at it, I might add. I do it because my mac tech guru understands better than I that perhaps my only “point” is in fact some people and relationships and places recorded at a given time in Kansas through the eyes of one woman, though who really cares?

The first year we went with Marianna Kistler Beach of the Museum with the beautiful Chihuly chandelier at Kansas State University. She and Millie were friends and friends of art. My grandfather was the young lawyer partner of Ross Beach, Sr. and then Marianna’s husband Big Ross who passed away last spring. Ross was, among many, many other things, Jerry Moran’s first campaign manager. Anyway, Marianna’s grandgirls were a bit older and we didn’t know them before, but Terry Beach married R.A. Edwards, Lawrence. For the SMEasters, Senator Harry Darby’s four daughters were Radar Evans’ mom, Mary Alford’s mom, Harriet Darby Gibson who’s husband my father worked for at Darby Steel Corporation in college, and Joanne Darby Edwards who married Roy whose family owned Rudy Patrick Seed Co.

Millie Ward, Marianna Beach, and the Graves and Edwards girls.

Millie Ward, Marianna Beach, and the Graves and Edwards girls.

Gina Graves, Millie Ward, Paula Graves

My grandmother looked like this all the time, though this was a “sport” dress of sorts. I mean, we all slept in a covered wagon in sleeping bags, so how she pulled this off I’ll never know. I don’t think she was wearing any pantyhose, though. The Lee women were pretty ahead of their time on that one, ask my mother.  I don’t think she had a pair of slacks until she was in her 90s. More about Millie later.

But, she has that determined look on her face and I know she was thinking, “I’ll see to it that one of these girls ends up in Western Kansas working in the arts and history before she moves to her apartment on the Plaza (or house in Santa Fe) to watch the lights and go to parties with artsy people.”

Already trying to get attention from the wrong men.

But enough about me for a bit and a little about the clothes…we’ll see how wordpress likes this, may have work out the quirks….you could also re-post these in the blog or be guest poster bloggers but that’s a lot of attention to ask of you for posterity.

Ginna Getto I was about 12 or 13 also and went with my mom and a family friend. I remember there was an old, old cowboy who had a horse who did tricks. There were people from all over the world on our trip. I remember feeling kind of sorry for the folks on the trip who weren’t actually from Kansas. I wore a dress and sunbonnet and whole deal one day, but what I most liked was riding along side of the wagon train on a horse.

8 hours ago · 

Sally Malley Stevenson I went in 73 and I wore the “little House on the Prairie Dress I really thought I was Laura Ingalls!!!!! Remember how scarey the Indian raid was??????

11 hours ago · 

And below, just for the record I got like triple mileage out of my prairie dress with the Hays Centennial, Wagons Ho! and some other historic event I can’t remember. I’m hoping Ginny saved it so my great granddaughter can wear it for the parade by the Toon Shop when Prairie Village celebrates its centennial in the marketplace in 2057.

But enough about me for a bit, the Hefners were the family who started Wagons Ho! primarily Ruth Hefner.

Letter from the Hefners delivered by pony express expressing concern for the "little pioneer friend" carried off by Indians to "still be with us at the end of our trail."

I just googled and it is interesting when I think that she was just a bit older than I am at 53 in this picture. I wanted to be their beautiful daughter Barby who played the guitar. What they provided in terms of capital outlay in wagons alone, access to private property, assembling the cast, music, food, sweat equity, family, and love cannot be described in pictures, just people whose lives they influenced.

HEFNER, RUTH C.

Deceased Name: Ruth C. Hefner
Ruth C. Hefner, 89, Oakley, died Wednesday, Sept. 14, 2005, at Logan County Manor, Oakley.

She was born Feb. 28, 1916, in Dighton to James and Angeline (Wristen) Coberly. She graduated from Dighton High School and attended Fort Hays State University.

She married Frank C. Hefner on Aug. 13, 1939, in Gove County. He died May 6, 2004. She was a homemaker and founder and operator of Wagons Ho, Gove.

Survivors include two sons, John Hefner, Newport Beach, Calif., and David Hefner, Gove; two daughters, Ann Bowman, Hutchinson, and Barbara Hefner, Santa Fe., N.M.; a brother, Glenn Coberly, Gove; eight grandchildren; and 11 great-grandchildren.

Services will be at 1 p.m. Monday at United Methodist Church, Gove. The body was bequeathed to the University of Kansas Medical School for anatomical research.

No visitation is planned. Memorials are suggested to the Wagons Ho Historical Record, Quinter, Logan County Manor, Oakley, or Modern Homemaker’s Club, Gove, in care of Schmitt Funeral Home, Quinter.
(Hays Daily News ~ September 16, 2005)

Yes, Sally, that Indian Raid was super scary.

As I said on facebook, the picture still scares me.

I have this note from the first trip in my sketchbook with the Indians.

Blounds have more fun.

Secretly, I was dying to get carried off by those ethnic bad boys….took me a while but I got’her done.

I've never received anything like this kind of attention from cowboys.

Watch out for that one, Millie never warned me that cowboys can dress up like Indians.

And last here’s a picture that my Grandfather Paul took of me with Rosie, he was ever the photographer with trusty Leica.

This makes me sad because I rode her when I was 5 and then again later in this picture. My old friend that I'd returned to has long since died but we will meet again.

 

It was my pleasure. Thank you Hefner Family for that moment in time.