Today I noticed...Deep Reading Is Rare

Today I noticed that some people are skimmers, some are scanners, and some really read. All of them are informed. However, the best informed and those who understand the most are the ones who really read.
 

Family Portrait Gallery

 I have done a little work with the photos that I shared in this post.  I'm satisfied with what I have - for now. There is a small landing as one descends into our basement. Where the stairs pause at the landing there is a large cabinet where I have added some books. As one turns, to continue down the stairs, I've added a gallery wall with some of the family photos. 

To the left of the gallery photos is a series of three stairs which stops on the basement floor. There is a wall on either side, forming a sort of hallway. So, I am probably going to add some more photos there. I think it would be a good place to add a collection of photos such as family members who were posing for team pictures or those who are posing with an animal from a livestock show. I'm going to continue to think about this because I'm not absolutely certain of how I want to decorate this little space. 

For this gallery collection, I have Started at the top, left with Mike's paternal great-grandfather. Next to him is Mike's grandfather, and then, his father rounds out the last oval frame. Below those oval-framed photos are pictures of Mike's parents. I think the two small ones are school pictures. They look like they might be about third grade level photos. The larger photo between those two shows his parents at their eighth grade dance.

The gold scalloped frame holds a collage of Mike in his first year. There is a portrait of him at three-months, six-months, nine-months, and one year. 

Then, there is the large antique portrait of Mike's great, great grandmother. Below that is a photo of his father on the left. Then, his great-grandmother is pictured in the middle and the photo on the right is a photo of the great-grandmother at an older age.

I love the variety of vintage frames and feel quite fortunate to have inherited the photos as well as the beautiful frames. 

Happy Birthday, Lydia!

 

I've been a nosey neighbor

Our neighbors have Longhorn cattle. They have been a novelty since they first entered the pasture next door. 

Being farm folks, Mike and I thought it was odd that the neighbors would buy such a creature. They were not really farm people and simply bought them for the novelty of how the cattle looked, I think. The first two who came to be our neighbors were Wanda and Willy. Wanda was a hefty, older looking cow who looked like she had not had a calf in years. Willy was a young yearling bull.  

Then, the neighbors added another and another Longhorn cow until they had an entire herd. Some of the new cows gave birth shortly after arriving next door and the herd continued to grow.

The neighbors wound up selling and moving away to another state but the herd stayed next door for the new homeowners. These new homeowners really seemed to have less knowledge about cattle than the original ones. For example, they didn't realize that they probably needed to get some hay to feed the cows when it snows and there is no grass readily available. So, they asked Mike for suggestions and he shared a little information.

After lunch one day this week, Mike mentioned that there was a truck and trailer backed up to the catch pen next door and some guys were loading up some of the Longhorns. Out of curiosity, I gravitated to the window to watch. I was curious about how many they would be able to load onto a trailer with those long horns. There were already a couple of the cattle loaded onto the trailer and the guys were working to get more on. One of them came dashing around the side of the trailer and had a rope dangling from his neck. The guys came dashing after him and the chase ensued.

The young bull went loping off down the pasture away from the barn. At one point one of the guys grabbed hold of the dangling rope and he began to dangle along as well. After a while, the guy turned loose and stood in a state of ponder for a bit. Then, he eased down the pasture and circled around the young bull and drove him back up toward the barn. This time, the young bull made short work of running around and getting by the men. Finally, both guys snagged hold of the end of the rope and held on, stopping the young bull.

It became a war of wills. Which would have the most determination? Would it be the guys or the bull? The guys were patient for a while. The other cattle came over to their friend and checked him out and then they wandered off munching on grass. After the young bull tired a bit, one of the guys ran back up the hill to the truck and pulled it down toward where the young bull was scotched and holding his ground.

I was amazed by the strength of this guy! Evidently, they didn't make much progress at coaxing the young bull onto the trailer. So, while the one guy held on, the other guy circled the trailer back around closer to the young bull, who was laying on the ground at that point. 

Being the nosey neighbor through all of this, I just took a seat near the window looking out onto the neighbor's pasture and watched all the action as I was making up an online grocery order. I was certainly amazed by the strength of the one guy! They were pretty tenacious about getting their job done and I found it interesting to see how they went about getting that bull loaded. I was also thankful that I didn't have any part of the work of it!

The two guys tugged and coaxed and finally got the bull loaded and went on their way with the load of Longhorn bulls. Obviously, this was not the guys' first rodeo! 

Today I Noticed...The Glow of the Rising Sun

I have developed a bad habit. 

I wake up each morning sometime between four and five-thirty. Why? Why couldn't my body wait for just another hour or so? Why does it decide I need to get up that early?

I've been getting up and moving to the chair in the bedroom so that I will be quiet and not disturb Mike. I can hear his gentle snoring in the den. So, I shift to the chair and do a little reading and napping.

Today, I noticed that as the sun is coming up, there is a nice glow from the rising sun peeking into the window. Even my unmade bed seems to have a nice glow as the sun is coming up.

Maybe I am getting a gentle nudge so that I don't miss the glow...

Family Portraits to Make a Gallery Wall

As we have been reclaiming the basement, I have been going through lots of things that were Mrs. Ozburn's. She lived with us and had her own space here from 2017 through 2023 when she passed. She had promised different things to family members and we certainly passed those things along as she had requested. Sorting through things has been a slow task for me because I don't want to overlook something that might be treasured by her grandchildren. There were lots of trinkets and decorative objects - far more than even I like to have atop tables and on bookshelves and keep dust-free. I took photos with my phone and sent out a group of ten or so photos at a time asking Mike's children if they wanted to claim them for their homes. Most were spoken for right away and only a few are still waiting for them to pick up and haul away.

Before Mrs. O moved in with us, she cleared out lots and gave furniture and decor to us, my brother and sister-in-law, and her grandchildren. We have a beautiful dining table, a cane rocker, a beautiful oil painting, and a few other pieces. One of the interesting things that we inherited are family portraits and loads of photographs. So, I'm sorting through the ones Mike's mother gave us as well as the ones she had on the walls and in boxes and books. We've asked Mike's aunt to identify some folks pictured that Mike was unsure about and I've left many hanging in the kitchen which show his relatives as well as what life was like here in days gone by with old trucks and horses and wagons and such. I want to create a gallery wall of some of the portraits and photos. I made a few snapshots with my phone to send to Mike's aunt for clarification on identity and am including those here but as I get these grouped and hung, I will try to update and make better photographs as the gallery shapes up.

One of the portraits we were given is of Mrs. O's great-grandmother, Helton Claiborne. We were told by Mike's mother that she was never married but she had three children with an American Indian fellow in the 'wilds of Tennessee.' She is certainly a stern looking young woman and it is an old-time portrait that has steely eyes. I proudly brought it home right after Mrs. O gave it to us and planned to hang it in the den. However... I was informed quite swiftly that Mike did not want her hanging in a room where he would be! He says she is scary and mean looking.

He tells a funny story about a lady, Martha, who helped his mother. It seems that she didn't like the portrait any better than Mike does. He said she would drape a towel over the frame as soon as she came into the house and then go on about her business as if that was a normal mode of display.

A photograph that we were given turns out to be another image of Helton Claiborne. While the portrait above is of her as a young woman, this photo shows her at a more advanced age.

She doesn't seem to have grown more cheerful over the years but it is interesting to see how she aged. Plus, look at the beautiful lace work on her blouse.

Another interesting portrait is of  Mrs. O's grandmother, Cynthia Elizabeth Claiborne Stephenson who was known as Betty. 

It is a beautiful portrait with a Gibson Girl look. How about that hat? She is the daughter of Helton Claiborne and mother of Mrs. O's father, Jack. Strong family resemblance, huh?

One of the sweetest photos is of Mike's mother as a toddler being held by her mother. The bonnet alone is photo-worthy. Obviously it is a photo made in the 1930s and the fashion of the time shines.

There are portraits from Mike's paternal side as well. The first one is of his great grandfather. He looks very studious and reflective posed with his eyeglasses doesn't he?

The next one is of his son, Mike's grandfather. Again, he looks very distinguished posed outside in a fancy bentwood chair.

I'm gathering them all together and leaning them against the wall and on a cabinet of books in the basement staircase landing. 

There is such a range of sizes - 8x10, 5x7, and some 4x6 photos of Mike as well. I love that collage which has a portrait of him at three months, six months, nine months, and one year old. There is also a sweet one of his parents at their eighth grade dance. What treasures!

There's also a sweet set of little school photos of Mike's parents that I want to include. I'm not sure what age they are but I'm thinking third grade or later elementary school years. Don't they look innocent and precious?

I have a good 5x7 school photo of Mike that looks like he was in about eighth or ninth grade. Plus, I'm hoping to fill in the pieces with a photo of Mike's maternal grandmother or grandparents, too.

I think it will be an interesting gallery wall and am so thankful that many of these are already framed in beautiful heirloom frames. I'll update when I figure out how I'm going to configure and hang all of these treasures. I think it will be a really interesting gallery wall and I hope I can gather the same sort of collection to represent my ancestors on the opposite wall.

Today I Noticed...Cleaning

I noticed something as I was going about my business today and I thought my grandmothers are probably just shaking their heads. I cannot even imagine what my great-grandmothers might be thinking of the life I lead.

I was doing some cleaning today. I had a load of laundry drying in our automatic clothes dryer. There was another load of laundry sloshing around in our automatic washer getting clean without my attendance. I just tossed the clothes into the machines and pressed the buttons and the work of cleaning began.

The robotic vacuum cleaner was rolling across the den floor sweeping up the bits from the trees that we had tracked in and strewn across the floor. I had cleaned out the dust bin of Rosey Jetson and attached a new filter. Then, as I sat sipping a cup of tea, I opened the app on my phone and instructed Rosey Jetson, the robotic vacuum cleaner to sweep the den floor. 

adapted from this source

I had just finished cleaning out the fridge and disposing of outdated salad dressing and ketchup. I also tossed out the unrecognizable food that had been tucked away in there a week or so ago but let go to waste because we never got a yen to clean out that leftover bit and eat it. There were a few little sealed containers with mushy something and something suspicious growing like a science experiment on the corner of another. I can just hear Muffa, my paternal grandmother, exclaim with disdain about how wasteful we are as I was scraping those bits into the trash.  

I was unloading the dishwasher so that I could reload it with containers where I had cleaned out the spoiled and wasted food and paused to pour myself another cup of tea before I sat down to rest my back. I felt pretty productive, though, as I opened the app on my phone and instructed the oven to begin a clean cycle to get that black crunchiness off the oven floor where the strawberry bread I'd baked had bubbled over yesterday afternoon. You see, I had forgotten about the dribbled over mess in there and when Mike had baked biscuits to go with the ham we had for breakfast, smoke had curled out into the kitchen and smelled it up until he had turned on the exhaust fan above the cooktop to clear that away and in just a little while, the inside of the oven will be sparkling clean again and I will get a notification on my phone that the cleaning is done.

I realized that the laundry will be ready to swap out again - I will fold the dry load and transfer the wet load to the dryer and start the next load to wash. So, I am sitting here sipping my cup of tea and browsing through an online post that has a how-to instructing me how to transform something to give it a new look or purpose while there is a soft tune playing in the background from Alexa, my virtual assistant. 

I know that Granny, my maternal grandmother, is probably smiling and shaking her head in comparing how my cleaning is so different from hers back in the day. She would have embraced the robotic vacuum and all the gadgets just as I do but she would also sit us down and tell us tales about how things were when she was a young woman and those chores would have a whole different look. She would tell us about drawing water from the well and heating it and scrubbing and the back-breaking labor it took to get things cleaned.

Earlier in the week the house-wash-guy came and used a power washer with a generator and blasted all sorts of suds and rinses to get the mold and mildew off the siding and make it new and shiny, just like a fresh paint job that my ancestors would have swiped across their siding as a way to freshen it up, taking hours or days to cover it all out in the hot sun. 

As I sit here capturing these thoughts and memories, I think of how different it must have been for my great-grandmothers and grandmothers and remember my own mother scrubbing, sweeping, and painting to give things a nice fresh spring cleaning and I am so thankful for the luxurious life I am fortunate to lead. I also wonder what is in store for my grandchildren in years to come. Will they have something even more advanced than the Robots from the Jetson's cartoon that I enjoyed?