Ikea, we have a closet!

Once the decision was made to build a bunkhouse instead of adding a bedroom, we had to make some modifications to the cabin. Most urgently, a closet was needed!

So I went to Houston last week so we could go to Ikea. Buying a closet system is a bit complicated and we were glad we had made a previous scouting trip to select the components we needed. We got to Ikea right before they opened and a most helpful salesperson got things done for us. 

It turned out that we had to get a bit bigger closet for the hanging clothes; the doors that went best in the cabin had to be configured a certain way. Happy to have more closet space but we had to modify our plan on bookshelves. No problem for us; we are always modifying plans!

I took the boxes home and unloaded them. Because I was by myself then and couldn't lift the big 8 foot long boxes, I unloaded them in my usual way. Backed up to the porch, opened the boxes, and brought the pieces in one at a time. It wasn't until the next day that I noticed we had left two boxes of drawers on the loading dock. Not to worry! Ikea has a plan for that and I called, they had them, and Rickie picked them up. He came out this weekend and we put the system up.

I was a little worried we would break the corners off when we raised the cabinets after assembling them, but no, all went well. We did rearrange the drawer, shelf, and clothes rods in the one cabinet after we put them in. We didn't want the hanging clothes bunched up so we ended up not using one shelf and one drawer.

They won't go to waste though. The small wardrobe at the end of the kitchen we had been using for clothes is going to be transformed into a pantry and I'll cut the Ikea components down and use them there. I'm going to start working on that today.

I went through my clothes and have 5 large trash bags full to donate. If I didn't have to keep two sizes of pants (chubby and more chubby, depending on whether I have been on a diet or not) I could get rid of another chunk of pants, but it is what it is!

You can see an unfinished cabinet in the corner next to the closet (photo above). I am going to paint this black and make a top out of some cedar we have and stain the top. We have a mesquite storage rack hanging over the cabinet and I'm hoping to match that stain.

We had planned on closing in the window so that we could put one of our bookcases there. But when it came down to it, we hate to get rid of a window. So we decided to change the arrangement of the bunkhouse a tiny bit so we can put two bookcases there, which was our original plan anyway. 

Then I am going to attempt a project I'm not 100% sure I can do. I'm going to take apart an oak bookcase we have, cut the shelves down and reassemble as a thin bookcase. This will go between the window and the fireplace. Then we can keep our wildlife reference books, cookbooks, and photo books in the cabin. I have a backup plan in case this project turns out looking like hell. We got some gift cards from Ikea as a sales promotion when we bought the closet system. We can use these to get a thin bookcase if necessary.

Getting rid of an extra bookcase is requiring me to walk the walk I've been talking about tiny houses! I've already gotten rid of one bookcase full of books, as we had planned to go from 4 to 3. Now we are going from 4 to 2.5. It's hard for a book lover to turn loose of books. But I'll donate the mysteries and thrillers that I can always get on Kindle, and keep the Texas history, classics, and a few of my favorites. 

Happy Birthday, Mamaw

A parade of six deer just moseyed by outside the window. Does and their babies, circling around to the water tanks, taking the long way. A couple of hours ago the turkey hens, who returned yesterday after being gone since last Spring, went by in the opposite direction heading to the feeder. I counted 36. This morning I threw some milo out by the deer feeder for them. Even after their absence they know the routine; they go from their feeder in the back to the deer feeder in the front to the water tanks.

Rickie and I spent all day yesterday working, burning brush and cutting firewood. So today I've spent most of the day in the easy chair by the fireplace, reading and downloading Paul Thorn songs. All work and no play, you know.

Darkness is settling over us. There is a sliver of moon outside the window, what Sarah used to call a "fingernail moon" when she was little. Paul Thorn is softly singing When the Long Road Ends. The fire is flickering in the fireplace and threatening to go out. I've got the Texans playoff game on TV with the sound down and they're threatening to go out too.

Today is my Mamaw's birthday. She was born in 1901 and has been gone since 1993. They say that there is a special bond that skips a generation and I had that with my Mamaw. She was a woman of simple wants; her family was the center of her life.

When I was a little girl she worked in a print shop downtown, operating a mysterious machine that cut and bound notepaper tablets. I remember going to see her there. She sat right inside the front door on an elevated platform behind the big machine. I thought she was amazing.

I never walked into a room where she was that her face did not light up to see me. I don't recall her ever saying an unkind word to me. She lived with my parents and took care of the home, doing the cooking, laundry, and being there for the kids. She bought my school clothes and every Easter outfit I had growing up. At different times she kept my boys for me when I was at work. When I was a little girl we lived in a duplex with my grandparents on one side and I always went to her house every night after supper and stayed until bedtime. When I was far from home she wrote me letters that I still have. I take them out and read them when I need a dose of Mamaw love.

I left home when I was 17 years old. I am often the "odd man out" in my family. As with most people, the call I hear is my own. I miss most gatherings of my family because I am far away from the family core. I live a different way of life than most of my family and the influences that shaped me are not the same as the ones that shaped them.  That's true of everyone, I believe. But with my Mamaw I was never the odd man out. I always had the feeling that if she could have made me any way she wanted to, that she would have made me just the way I was.

The little girl in the tree with her straight hair cut short and overalls on has become the sixtyish woman with her straight hair cut short and jeans and work boots on. I still like playing in the dirt and I don't much care what people think of me. I learned a long time ago that you have to be true to yourself and take the consequences of that if you are to have any peace in this world.

But what I wouldn't give to walk into a room and see my Mamaw smile at me and know that, in her eyes, I turned out just the way she hoped I would.

Line Rider

Yesterday I spent an hour walking the southwest quarter of our place. We have a tiny place by West Texas standards, but because of the woods you can't see all of the 54 acres from the cabin. I like to walk it every so often; checking the fence line and for anything that might be wrong. Like the cowboy line riders, only on my own two feet!

I was half way looking for Trinity, the three legged doe. We haven't seen her since Christmas Day. The odds of her being alive still are slim. So are the odds of me finding her. She could be on any of the neighbors' property. Still, I wonder what happened to her and would like to know.

I was sad to see one of the old cedars we have had died, a victim of the drought. The trunk is bigger than me. The old cedars out here are the only ones that really have one big trunk. Most of the cedars have multiple trunks, all fairly small, making it a nightmare cutting them down. Rickie has to work his way into them when he does. This big one was in the southwest corner by the road. 

We had a beautiful snowfall last week. It was gone by noon of the day it fell but still it was welcome. We had gone over two months without measurable rainfall so any little bit of moisture is welcome. 

I like walking in the woods here. There are places where the trees surround openings that are cathedral-like in their quietness and beauty. And I walk the fence line to make sure there are no breaks. And to make sure no deer are caught. As easy as it is for them to jump, they get caught more often than you would think. Rickie and I saw a doe caught by her back leg a couple of weeks before Christmas. It was down the road from us. She couldn't have been there long because someone would have seen her and helped her; she was already dead. 

Once I came upon a deer skeleton under some trees near the fence line. The bones were scattered and I looked around to find the skull to see if it was a buck or doe. It was a doe. And a while back when Rickie cut some big cedars down on the hillside there was the skeleton of a fawn. But yesterday I didn't see any sign of Trinity. It's actually raining now (yay!) but later in the week I'll walk the other parts of the ranch and see if I find any sign of her. We've had up to 13 deer at the feeder this week and she hasn't been there.

We do have an old doe that is still showing up. I saw her this afternoon. She goes to the feeder before the others come. I think they would run her off; those does can be vicious.

John and Zac came out after Christmas to do some deer hunting and to check out the bunkhouse. They gave the bunkhouse a thumbs up but didn't see any whitetails that could make it into sausage; just some moms and babies or yearlings. After they left 5 big does came out. Wait 'til next year!

This is the quietest time of the year out here. The holidays are over, the hunters and family are gone. Rickie has had to go back to work after weeks of being off. It takes me a few days to find the rhythm of being alone again. To go back to doing the chores Rickie has done while he was here. To decide what's for supper when it's only me. To pack the decorations up, put Bixby's toys away, to shut the door on the bunkhouse that has been full of our kids and my sister's kids. 

After a few days I settle back into a routine. The fireplace is roaring and I've got some good books to read. Potato soup is on the stove. Woodrow and Gus are fed and have hay for later. Misty rain is dripping from the trees and a quietness has settled again over the little cabin and the woods. I am thankful for the chance I get to live this life.

The Ghost of Christmas Present

Her leg was broken and dangling, near where it joined her body. She was frightened by our vehicle and trying desperately to jump the fence. It was her left front leg and she kept trying to stand on it to spring over the fence. Each time she would fall and then move further down the fence line looking for a hole to go through. We slowed almost to a stop to keep from stressing her further. She finally found a hole and disappeared.

She looked to be in bad shape and a lot of pain. Living close to nature as we do, you see a lot of suffering. Most of the time you can't help. We can't feed enough to keep the deer alive during a drought. There are too many and not enough money. We provide water and we put out a little corn for the deer year round and milo for the turkeys. We feed the birds. We put food scraps out for the foxes and small animals. 

But when you see a deer suffering like this you can sometimes end it's suffering. Rickie saw it a couple of days later and she looked worse. He made the decision to shoot her the next time he saw her. 

Our friends Scott and Martha came over for dinner the next day and Scott said he had seen what looked like a pool of blood in the road in front of our place. We told him about the deer we had seen and wondered if it was from her.

Sarah and Bixby came over Christmas Eve and spent the night; Justin had to work and couldn't come. Bixby had fun learning to be a ranch hand. He liked the Mule, both helping to drive it and dancing in the bed of it. He also thought the flat bed trailer was good for running. He helped feed the longhorns and the fish and birds. He was a good hand and that's the best compliment you can get on a ranch.

We had a turkey dinner and opened some presents and the kids tried the bunkhouse on for size. They left this morning ahead of the blue norther that is blowing in now. We're gonna have some mighty cold weather the next few nights. 

After they left Rickie saw the injured doe by the feeder. She had lost the broken leg at the shoulder. She was eating some corn and having a little trouble keeping her balance but she looked better than she had. We are thinking she probably got the damaged leg ripped off crossing the fence and the blood in the road was hers. 

We've had a three-legged doe living here in the past. A friend named her Tripod and she lived for many years, raising a baby each year.  Everyone watched out for her and gave her the respect she deserved for her toughness and the daily battle she fought. Scott and Martha had one by them also that they called Stubbette and she too had and raised babies. A couple of years ago a mountain lion got her.

As we watched the newly created three legged doe, Rickie said to me "well, what do you think? Leave her be?" I agreed. With losing the leg she has a much better chance to make it. She may or may not survive but she's not going down without a fight. That's what it takes. 

We decided to call her Trinity.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

I awoke to 18 degrees this morning, a long way from the 80s we had a couple of days ago! Woodrow and Gus were waiting by the fence. They wanted some hay to get their internal furnace fired up. I put long underwear on for the first time this season and ventured out!

(Photo - my friend Belinda made the Santa pillow on the bunkhouse shelf.)

I started the fireplace going yesterday afternoon. In the bunkhouse I took down a Tony Hillerman book with Jim Chee stories to read by the fire, with a cup of coffee with a little Bailey's Caramel added. I had read it, of course, but it has been a long time. Hillerman was the first author to instill in me some knowledge and a love of the Four Corners area. When Sarah was a senior in high school some years ago we went on a vacation there. Sarah called it the Hillerman tour. I kept seeing the places Jim Chee and Joe Leaphorn lived and worked. Shiprock, Canyon de Chelly, Turquoise Mountain, Window Rock, Crownpoint. We made the rough drive out to Chaco Canyon and then on to Mesa Verde. It was beautiful. 

I added another log to the fire this morning and got it going again. After it got above freezing I refilled the galvanized washtub we use as a woodbox. I'll keep the fireplace going today and tonight. 
(Photo - my sister Kathy gave me the Christmas longhorn on the mantel above.)

Outside the back porch the little pine siskins were hopping around on the frozen water in the star shaped birdbath I have there. I added some warm water to it for them. My 5 year old great-grandson Anthony made me some pine cone feeders, with help from his Nana Lisa, and I had hung them on the sign above the birdbath. The pine siskins have eaten one already.

Rickie had done some winterizing this weekend so we were ready for the freezing weather. Our main worry is always the water lines. We have them all over the place; to the garden, the water tanks, the bunkhouse, the cabin, and of course, the pumphouse where they all originate. After we had 5 water line breaks one year on the water tank lines, Rickie made some modifications and added some valves so we can drain the lines there. 

My friend Martha and I went on a Christmas homes tour in our county a week ago. We saw some beautiful houses and a little tiny chapel in a community called Ivy. The Library Club, the sponsors of the tour, had the chapel decorated and served refreshments there. It is a beautiful place with a lot of history. It has been a schoolhouse and a chapel and a gathering place since the late 1800s. 

This summer I added a mobile device to make a hotspot at the cabin. You have to be on the porch where there is a clear line back to the tower to get a 4G signal so you can have internet access. With the freezing weather I didn't want to leave the device on the back porch. So I found that it would work in the bathroom window and now it has a new home. 

(Photo - the curtain hides our water heater and supplies. The little ceramic Santa in the window was a gift, made many years ago by my friend Debbie.)

(Photo - I made the sheep pillow; it has a hooked wool top I made years ago. The Santa pillow and the Cabin pillow were gifts from friends.)

The cold weather, the fireplace, the Chrismasy things I love, a pot of beans on the stove and a good book. In this place, at this moment, right here and now, life is good. As Augustus McCrae said, "The only healthy way to live is to learn to like all the little everyday things, like a sip of good whiskey in the evening, a soft bed, a glass of buttermilk, or a feisty gentleman like myself."

When "Aunt" Doesn't Quite Say It All...

My family lost another loved one to that devil Alzheimer's yesterday. Aunt Carolyn was finally released from her suffering and is at peace. 

She was only 11 years older than me and she helped me through lots of hard times and we shared lots of good times.

Family fishing trips, making us all spaghetti; laughing uncontrollably at family fish fries; teaching me how to make pecan pie and cherry pie and how to give a house a good cleaning; being a second mom to my siblings and I; rocking my babies and pouring her love out on them. (Photo - Aunt Carolyn with my oldest son Larry.) She was a fantastic cook and whenever you would visit you knew you were going to get some good Southern home cooking.

She had a way of seeing things the way they were and she didn't mince words. She would not tell you a lie even if it meant saying things to and about people she loved if she thought they needed to be told. She was not afraid to stand up for what was right or to stand against everyone else if she thought they were wrong. I learned from her and the other women in my family to be strong. 

I don't have a lot of photos of her. Most of them are in my mind. But she was a part of everything of importance and most things trivial in my life up until later years when we lived far apart. (Photo - Aunt Carolyn with my brother David.)

When my mom was in her last year and a half of her own Alzheimer battle, Aunt Carolyn called every few days to check on her. Even as her own Alzheimer's was starting to change her life. 

She would have me call her from the nursing home whenever I was there with Mama. She wanted to talk to Mama and did up until it was clear Mama could not talk on the phone. Then she just talked to me and my siblings so she would know how Mama was. During this time Aunt Carolyn moved into an apartment, then assisted living. We weren't sure how to tell her about Mama passing away but she must have known in her heart because she called me that day to see how Mama was. She and Mama were like sisters, even though they were sisters-in-law, and I guess she felt the loss.

Aunt Carolyn had a heart of gold and she would do anything for those she loved. Her family was the most important thing in her life. Her sense of humor was famous in our family and we smile as soon as her name is mentioned. Even now, through our tears.

She was one of a kind and my family suffers a great loss with her passing. I have only one aunt left in that generation and then we are all truly on our own. If we survive this world it will be only because of what they taught us and showed us by example.

The Ghost of Christmas Future

The Ghost of Christmas Past visited me last week and today the Ghost of Christmas Future made an unexpected appearance. Well, maybe not Christmas Future, just Future. But then again, it is December.

I was third in line in the drive-thru at the bank in my small town. Normally, it is in and out fast but today the man at the beginning of the line must have had a lot of business because we were there for a while. 

I found myself looking at the truck ahead of me and felt the hand of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come at my shoulder, pointing. A white pickup, a bit older than my white pickup, with a little more wear. The back window was busted out, with fragments of cracked glass all around the rim. Odds and ends of this and that in the truck bed. The license plate was bent backwards on each side as if it had been backed into a fence post or a trailer tongue.

The lady driving was 10-15 years older than me with a face wrinkled by the sun and wind of west Texas. Her gray hair was a little shorter than mine. It looked like she had combed it with her hands, which is the way I've been combing mine lately.

She got her cell phone out and made a call. I got mine out and checked Facebook. She ran her hands through her hair. I ran mine through my hair. A man with a cowboy hat walked by from the parking lot. He nodded to me and I nodded back. He nodded to her and she nodded back. 

I was beginning to get the feeling that we were much alike when the man in front finally finished. He drove away; she moved up, finished, and drove off, avoiding the 18-wheeler unloading at the hardware store next door. I moved up, finished, and drove off, avoiding the 18-wheeler unloading at the hardware store next door.

My next stop was to get a Diet Coke before I continued my errands. I drove down the street to the Sonic, ordered at the drive-thru, and pulled around toward the window. There was one customer in front of me. It was the lady in the white truck from the bank. 

When she finished her errands in town, she probably went home and put feed out for a herd of cattle or goats. When I go home, I will put feed out for two longhorn steers who are pets. She probably got up several hours before me and will probably go to bed way before I do. 

We are different and yet we are the same. I'm a watered down version of her. We are women who love this life and this part of Texas. When I looked out my windshield I saw myself 15 years from now. I wondered if she looked in her rear-view mirror and saw herself 15 years ago.