A Porch of My Own

A Porch of My Own

Thursday, August 30, 2018

Home Sweet Home



In 2004 when we built the cabin at the ranch I really wanted a big mesquite mantel we had seen outside of San Antonio at a place that made them. But it was outside our budget and we were running out of money.

We cut an old elm tree down on the ranch but the one we tried turned out to be dying inside. We didn’t have many trees that were straight enough and long enough so we gave up on that idea. Rickie decided to go by the main lumber yard in Austin of the place where we had looked at the mesquite mantels and see if they had a more affordable option. They used a lot of different woods. He happened to catch them when they were unloading unfinished mantels that were returning from being kiln dried. The owner gave him a bargain price on a mesquite one. 



He was headed to the ranch alone that trip and in spite of the mantel being heavy he unloaded it himself. He sanded it and finished it and got it on the two cedar support posts he had bolted to the framing when we were building the cabin. 

And there it set for almost 13 years. I told him several times over the years that if we ever sold the cabin I was taking the mantel. It was my favorite thing about the cabin and you don’t often find a mesquite tree that big anymore. It signified Texas to me and to all the hard work Rickie and I had done over the years to get our place to where it was. It meant home to me.

So in spite of the ordeal it was, the mantel made the trip here. I’m grateful to my neighbor Tim who singlehandedly moved it to the shed for me; to John, Austin, and Natalie who moved it from the shed to the storage unit in Austin; to the movers who moved it to Pagosa; to Natalie and Leslie who loaded it in my car to take to Denver; to Sarah and Justin who unloaded it in Denver and then took it off their wall there for the return trip here; to the movers who brought it from Denver to Pagosa; and finally to Sarah and Justin again who just put it on the brackets I put up this morning. And to the blacksmith in North Carolina who made the brackets for me. 




I don’t have a fireplace in my remodeled space and the cabin fireplace here already has a mantel custom cut to fit it. And it has its own story. So we put the mantel on the wall as a shelf. 

And it feels like home.



Tuesday, August 28, 2018

You and Me

I couldn’t sleep last night so I watched Venus outside my sliding door until she dropped below the horizon. Orion, everyone’s favorite, won’t be visible until right before dawn. It’ll be a while longer before he greets us in the early hours of nightfall and moves across the sky, trailed by the rabbit and the big dog, all chasing the bull.

I replaced one of the garage doors on my remodel with an 8’ sliding glass door. I put my bed right beside that door. I wanted to be able to see the stars at night like I could at the ranch. Winter was our season for stargazing because we always spent more time there then. It was often dark when we got there and Orion was right in front of us when we pulled into the driveway.



We had our bed right beside a window at the ranch also and when the moon was full it was as if a light was on, it was so bright. After Rickie died I listened to this song by Sara Watkins a lot. I don’t listen as much now, it always makes me cry, but it was running through my mind last night. The moon was so bright I couldn’t see many stars but Venus was holding her own.



“I remember the night
I remember the sound
I remember the light
When the moon came round
The night flowers bloomed
The air so sweet
I remember you
I remember me”

Click on the link below to hear the clear voice of Sara Watkins remembering.

Sara Watkins, You and Me

Try to watch the stars sometimes where you are. Teach your kids a few constellations. Watch the moon change as the nights pass. The night sky is a great wonder. Give the gift of these memories.

Friday, August 24, 2018

The Birthday Gift

Today is my birthday, the last year I’ll be sixty-something. Twenty-nine years ago when I turned forty, Rickie told me never to be upset about getting older. He said think of all the people we love who never got to be your age.




I never forgot that and think about these loved ones every year when I add one more to my count. My baby brother who never saw 4 days, my sister who never saw 38, my brother who never saw 68. A brother-in-law who never saw 58 and one who never saw 43. A cousin who never saw 22, another cousin’s daughter who never saw 6, one more cousin whose daughter never saw 23. My son-in-law’s mother who never saw 58. A cousin’s husband who never saw 60. The babies, some my grandchildren, in our family that almost made it, but didn’t survive the last few weeks of their journey to the world.

Rickie who never saw 62.

And a slew of friends over the years, especially these last years, who never made it to my age. So it seems petty and ungrateful to complain about having a birthday.



After Rickie died, I sometimes didn’t much care if I lived or died, as I think all of us who lose someone we love sometimes think in our low times. I wasn’t suicidal, I just didn’t care much one way or the other. But I always came back to Rickie’s statement. That to get another year is not something we are all given. We can’t squander them.

My attitude toward birthdays also comes from my Dad. He was always excited when his birthday rolled around, even in his later years when his health was declining. When he turned 79, the last year he had as it turned out, he called the Houston library to ask them how many people lived to be 79. They researched and got back to him. (Thank you, librarians, for being awesome!) I don’t remember the number but he was one of a small group and he was bursting to tell us all when we came by.





I’ve tried to make the most of these last 4 years I’ve had without Rickie. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of making them count, both for me personally and for my loved ones. And I’ll try to make the most of this next one. It’s a gift we don’t all receive. As Gandalf says, we all have some part yet to play, and I’ll try to play my small part with a grateful heart. For those who didn’t make it.


From Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien -

“Frodo: 'It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill Gollum when he had the chance.'
Gandalf: 'Pity? It's a pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play in it, for good or evil, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.' Frodo: 'I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.'
Gandalf: 'So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides that of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.”