This is the last Monday in August and summer draws to a close officially with Labor Day next week. The heat has returned again so we won’t forget to be somewhat glad to see summer leave. Things have been rather quiet, not a bad thing, allowing for iced tea and reading on the deck. A little daydreaming slips in as well.
This last week I had to take pictures for an editor to accompany a memoir piece about my growing up near a Grandpa’s DX station. I can still smell the oil, feel the grease that lingered on everything including the phone book, and see that old distributor cap recycled for a pen and pencil holder. The editor asked for a picture of the Tom’s jar. They appear in flea markets now, some are reproductions, but I know the provenance of mine as it came straight from Grandpa. I can lift the lid and think I smell salt from peanuts, sugar from Double Bubble, or chocolate from Pay Day candy bars.
This picture hangs in the gun section of the Bass Pro in Springfield. I took a picture of the picture because it fascinated me. I would like to know the story that goes with this woman and her bear. Hum, I may to write a bear hunting story on some coming day!
I have been reading a lot Old West stories lately. Lots of crime, murder, hangings in those old days, but a day’s news now doesn’t sound a lot better. Humans have progressed in many ways but anger, jealousy, and hatred are still as rampant as they ever were. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by the senselessness of it all. Maybe that is why I read of days gone by…there was still hope the human race might improve. I return to those days of yesteryear when cowboys honored womanhood, a gun was a tool for good more than bad, and squeak of leather on a saddle and clip of hooves was music better than mega speakers from car radios ranting foul language.
Enough mish mash from me on this Monday...