Travelogue typed here in its original form, date unknown ...
We rolled in here this morning about 5 AM . Not sure what day it is. We banged on the door and got Hunter awake to let us in. We all ... Jerre, Robert, Becky, and, Lisa piled down and went to sleep immediately.
We had been driving all night up from Atlanta through the Cumberland Mountains at Chattanooga and Nashville. It rained all the way and the driving was horrible. Robert kept trying to stay awake and stay on the road. Jerre kept trying to stay awake and keep Robert awake by throwing ice water on his face, head, neck, and back.
Some way they stayed awake and on the road. Becky and Lisa slept on. Jerre kept saying "If you run off the road and kill us, I'll kill you."
Bob would say "Don't do that." And she would throw some more ice water on him.
She would say "Stop awhile and rest." And Bob would say "Naw we ain't gettin' nowhere if we stop."
They did stop at the Nashville and ate some waffles, except Jerre ate some chili. Soon after she asked Rob if those Maalox No 1's, that he is always eating, are any good for belly burn? She ate some and they were.
When they woke Hunter up she was mad as an old wet hen because they were so late. She expected them in earlier, and cooked a whole lot of food, but they didn't show. Anyway, you know how Hunter is when she gets mad: A real Tiger.
They all slept about three hours, then woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. We all got up and ate that good stuff.
We were going to lay around all day and goof off but Hunter had a long list of things for us to do. So, instead of laying around we had to "lay to."
Some of the things Ol' Mom had cooked were chicken, rice, black-eyed peas, tomatoes, pound cake, apple pie, ice cream, coffee, milk, etc. We dang sure didn't go hungry.
While we were eating supper a neighbor told us we could have some fresh tomatoes out of her garden. Ol' Mom gave Robert a large grocery sack which he filled with good ripe fresh tomatoes.
Becky and Lisa laid out in the hot sun to keep a peak on their St Tropaz tans, a'la St Thomas and St John. They wanted the peak to be in bloom when they get back to Houston.
Some people named Bower came by looking for a body. Old Mr. Peavy had died and they felt sure he was at the funeral home down the street. He wasn't there and they wanted Hunter to find him for them. She did.
Jerre, Rob, and Hunter went to Wal-Mart and the grocery store. They got some snacking stuff for the trip to Houston, tomorrow. Hope to get started about six.
End of entry
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Robert's Childhood Memories: Improvisations
Dad's childhood reminiscence typed here in its original form, date unknown ...
When I was coming up about 8 to 10, out in West Texas, in Childress, which was I'm sure the center of the dust bowl in the 20's and 30's, there was very little entertainment provided for small kids, so we improvised.
We used to get old tires from service stations and roll them around town. Up and down driveways and down the street chasing the tire and keeping rolling.
One of the good tricks of this was for a small kid to crawl up inside the tire and be rolled. It was probably as much of a thrill as a midway ride, and it was free.
My step-father was a cement man and he had a hand-cranked cement mixer sitting by the house he used when mixing and paving cement. It was always sitting there because he never did have any work. One of us would crawl inside and someone else would turn the crank. It was a good ride but only the smallest kids could get inside and only the bravest would do it.
Another thing, we used to get a small hoop about 8" or 10" diameter and two sticks, one about three feet and one about one foot. We would nail the short one across the end of the long one and roll the hoops all over town. Tight now I can't understand why we did that. It was so strenuous but we enjoyed it and did it for hours at a time. I'm sure that it was things like that that make me at my age walk for long periods of time without any fatigue.
Another of our improvised pastimes was jumping off of houses. We started out climbing up a tree or drainpipe to the eave of the house then dropping off. Next we would stand up and yip. Then we would take a few running steps and jump. Each new move that we did eliminated a few more kids. Then we moved to the top of the house and ran down and jumped. Very few would do this. Finally the only thing left was to start at the peak of one end and run caddy-corner down the opposite end and jump.
The way I remember it was that I was only one of two that would do this. Then the big boys who wouldn't do it all would come around and say: "Hey, you know what he'll do? Show 'em." And I would do it anytime I had an audience.
Then there was the smoking. My mother ran a grocery store. The big boys would urge me to lift a package of cigarettes from my mother's store. Which I would do. We would then go down to the town lake and sit under the cliffs and smoke. We dug a hole in the cliff and lined it with rocks to keep us a cache of cigarettes down there.
The big discussion was that if you smoked cigarettes you wouldn't grow. That bothered me so even though I furnished most of the cigarettes, I didn't smoke them.
One of the big deals about that time was picking cotton in the fall. That was the hardest, most dastardly, work ever imposed on man, but we had to do it at eight years old.
We would get up early on Saturday morning, way before sun up, and go out in the country to the cotton patches. You had a small sack made out of heavy cloth with a big strap to go over your shoulder. Then you drug the sack between the rows of cotton and picked on both sides.
First off, stooping over to pick, your back would start hurting. Then you would get down and walk on your knees and they would start hurting. Your shoulder would start hurting from the strap and you would shift to the other shoulder.
Your hands would get sore from picking at the cotton bolls. You would have a small pair of cloth gloves, but they would get holes in the fingers and then you would try to shift your fingers around in the gloves to keep them away from the holes.
I remember one day I chewed a lot of sugar cane and got diarrhea. I ran back and forth to the cane patch all day to go to the bathroom, then back to dragging that cotton sack. I was very young and that was really hard. Looking back on something like that, you can see that it really does put hair on your chest.
Lots of times when I picked cotton all day and they tallied up that night, I had made a dime. And Mr Priest, my step-father, got all the money to buy groceries.
end
When I was coming up about 8 to 10, out in West Texas, in Childress, which was I'm sure the center of the dust bowl in the 20's and 30's, there was very little entertainment provided for small kids, so we improvised.
We used to get old tires from service stations and roll them around town. Up and down driveways and down the street chasing the tire and keeping rolling.
One of the good tricks of this was for a small kid to crawl up inside the tire and be rolled. It was probably as much of a thrill as a midway ride, and it was free.
My step-father was a cement man and he had a hand-cranked cement mixer sitting by the house he used when mixing and paving cement. It was always sitting there because he never did have any work. One of us would crawl inside and someone else would turn the crank. It was a good ride but only the smallest kids could get inside and only the bravest would do it.
Another thing, we used to get a small hoop about 8" or 10" diameter and two sticks, one about three feet and one about one foot. We would nail the short one across the end of the long one and roll the hoops all over town. Tight now I can't understand why we did that. It was so strenuous but we enjoyed it and did it for hours at a time. I'm sure that it was things like that that make me at my age walk for long periods of time without any fatigue.
Another of our improvised pastimes was jumping off of houses. We started out climbing up a tree or drainpipe to the eave of the house then dropping off. Next we would stand up and yip. Then we would take a few running steps and jump. Each new move that we did eliminated a few more kids. Then we moved to the top of the house and ran down and jumped. Very few would do this. Finally the only thing left was to start at the peak of one end and run caddy-corner down the opposite end and jump.
The way I remember it was that I was only one of two that would do this. Then the big boys who wouldn't do it all would come around and say: "Hey, you know what he'll do? Show 'em." And I would do it anytime I had an audience.
Then there was the smoking. My mother ran a grocery store. The big boys would urge me to lift a package of cigarettes from my mother's store. Which I would do. We would then go down to the town lake and sit under the cliffs and smoke. We dug a hole in the cliff and lined it with rocks to keep us a cache of cigarettes down there.
The big discussion was that if you smoked cigarettes you wouldn't grow. That bothered me so even though I furnished most of the cigarettes, I didn't smoke them.
One of the big deals about that time was picking cotton in the fall. That was the hardest, most dastardly, work ever imposed on man, but we had to do it at eight years old.
We would get up early on Saturday morning, way before sun up, and go out in the country to the cotton patches. You had a small sack made out of heavy cloth with a big strap to go over your shoulder. Then you drug the sack between the rows of cotton and picked on both sides.
First off, stooping over to pick, your back would start hurting. Then you would get down and walk on your knees and they would start hurting. Your shoulder would start hurting from the strap and you would shift to the other shoulder.
Your hands would get sore from picking at the cotton bolls. You would have a small pair of cloth gloves, but they would get holes in the fingers and then you would try to shift your fingers around in the gloves to keep them away from the holes.
I remember one day I chewed a lot of sugar cane and got diarrhea. I ran back and forth to the cane patch all day to go to the bathroom, then back to dragging that cotton sack. I was very young and that was really hard. Looking back on something like that, you can see that it really does put hair on your chest.
Lots of times when I picked cotton all day and they tallied up that night, I had made a dime. And Mr Priest, my step-father, got all the money to buy groceries.
end
The Great Deer Hunt
by Robert D Darnell
Dec 7, 1982
Dave and Bob had been talking about going deer hunting up in the out-back around Possum Kingdom Lake all winter and finally the opportunity came.
They took off early in the morning with all their gear and guns. Dave had a belly ache so he went by the veterinarian's and go t some horse liniment from Jan to take. He always takes horse liniment for belly aches.
They swung north up through the out-back through Brenham, Caldwell, Cameron, Temple, and Gatesville. Stopped for some hot bar-b-que at Temple. Stopped at Pancake for some coffee; wondered why any place would be named Pancake. It was shut down.
We headed North all day long through the rugged out-back, through Hico, Stephenville, Graford. Late in the afternoon as the sun's rays were slanting, we came into the Palo Pinto Mountains. We stopped for coffee at an old stage coach inn. Saw Chill Wills.
Game was plentiful all through the out-back and we were chomping at the bit to go hunting in the morning.
Got on into the camp about 4:00, and checked in at the lodge. George Monie wanted to talk about the water district so we visited with him for a while.
We walked out to the big canyon and picked out spots to hunt in the morning, then ate some catfish and early to bed.
At 5:00 the next morning we woke up and put on all out warm clothes. It was just moderately cold, somewhat comfortable. The main thing was it was so dark. But Dave had a flashlight, so we were able to find our way to the canyon.
Each of us settled into a nest of rocks and waited for daylight. At first it was warm enough from having walked but as we sat still it got colder.
Bob stayed until 9:00 and didn't see a deer. Saw a lot of birds, including a long blue heron and heard a covey of quail waking up and doing their morning toilet. They make a lot of popping noises. Sounds like small pump going on and off.
Bob went back to the sales office and waited a while. Dave stayed out till noon. He saw a bunch of does, and a one point buck, but he didn't shoot anything.
After noon they both went back and Bob sat in a deer stand while Dave tried to walk some deer up. He raised some but neither got a shot. They then drove down some roads but no deer were showing, so called it quits.
Everything we touched today either stung, stuck, scratched, sprained, strained, broke, or other wise hurt. Wow, what fun this hunting!
Thursday morning dawned cold gray and threatening. We broke camp and made preparations to head back South of this rough out-back. It's good to get out in the wilderness and rough it every once in a while, but there's nothing like Home Sweet Home.
So, after our awesomely, awfully, anguishingly, agonizingly, hair-raisingly, aimlessy, awkwardly, antagonizingly, astonishingly, anxious experience we arrived home in Houston.
end
Dec 7, 1982
Dave and Bob had been talking about going deer hunting up in the out-back around Possum Kingdom Lake all winter and finally the opportunity came.
They took off early in the morning with all their gear and guns. Dave had a belly ache so he went by the veterinarian's and go t some horse liniment from Jan to take. He always takes horse liniment for belly aches.
They swung north up through the out-back through Brenham, Caldwell, Cameron, Temple, and Gatesville. Stopped for some hot bar-b-que at Temple. Stopped at Pancake for some coffee; wondered why any place would be named Pancake. It was shut down.
We headed North all day long through the rugged out-back, through Hico, Stephenville, Graford. Late in the afternoon as the sun's rays were slanting, we came into the Palo Pinto Mountains. We stopped for coffee at an old stage coach inn. Saw Chill Wills.
Game was plentiful all through the out-back and we were chomping at the bit to go hunting in the morning.
Got on into the camp about 4:00, and checked in at the lodge. George Monie wanted to talk about the water district so we visited with him for a while.
We walked out to the big canyon and picked out spots to hunt in the morning, then ate some catfish and early to bed.
At 5:00 the next morning we woke up and put on all out warm clothes. It was just moderately cold, somewhat comfortable. The main thing was it was so dark. But Dave had a flashlight, so we were able to find our way to the canyon.
Each of us settled into a nest of rocks and waited for daylight. At first it was warm enough from having walked but as we sat still it got colder.
Bob stayed until 9:00 and didn't see a deer. Saw a lot of birds, including a long blue heron and heard a covey of quail waking up and doing their morning toilet. They make a lot of popping noises. Sounds like small pump going on and off.
Bob went back to the sales office and waited a while. Dave stayed out till noon. He saw a bunch of does, and a one point buck, but he didn't shoot anything.
After noon they both went back and Bob sat in a deer stand while Dave tried to walk some deer up. He raised some but neither got a shot. They then drove down some roads but no deer were showing, so called it quits.
Everything we touched today either stung, stuck, scratched, sprained, strained, broke, or other wise hurt. Wow, what fun this hunting!
Thursday morning dawned cold gray and threatening. We broke camp and made preparations to head back South of this rough out-back. It's good to get out in the wilderness and rough it every once in a while, but there's nothing like Home Sweet Home.
So, after our awesomely, awfully, anguishingly, agonizingly, hair-raisingly, aimlessy, awkwardly, antagonizingly, astonishingly, anxious experience we arrived home in Houston.
end
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Santa Claus Letter
One Christmas Eve Long Ago When Sylvia turned 24
Dear Santa:
These are critical years for those who believe design can improve the human condition. The idea is as old as Utopian Thought. What is "new?" Melding of observable behavior patterns and understanding of client aspirations and needs, and use of emerging technology to affect the built environment might be accomplished by design.
Whether this is the basis for a new aesthetic is not yet clear. But no conscientious planner or designer can ignore a growing body of knowledge waiting application.
Pat
***
Dear Santa Claus,
I've been urging mother to let me open a present.
Well, Smokey's learning to talk real good, You don't have to worry about him biting you, he might bark, but he won't bite.
How do you like our Christmas tree? I think it is the beautifulest tree we've had. I hope you fill my stocking. Do you like my little guy on the mantle? Bev made it. You know the lady I've known so long?
Look at all the presents under the tree. I've got 11 or 12. We've got candles all over the house this year. You know Christmas Eve is Sylvia's birthday. She'll be 24!
Be sure and stop by David's house, They are not going to be able to be with us on Christmas. Jan had to work everyday except Christmas! That's terrible isn't it?
Well, Good Bye!!
Becky
***
Ho Ho Ho
This country air really makes a feller sleepy. From Nottingham to Shannon Valley Drive to the Ranch... you Darnell kids sure change around a lot for Christmas.
Becky, you are the only little one left so my job is getting easier every year at your house. I hear you are beginning to ask silly questions like "Is there really a Santa Claus?" Believe you me if I ain't real this sure is a tired old nothing and I sure don't feel like nothing.
Anyway, real or not, here it is, and here is a pretty neat bicycle for you, Becky. I hope it works better than the one last year. Oh, well, we all make mistakes.
I see old Pat and Ron and Sylvia over there asleep. They are so big now that they don't need my toys; just some work clothes and vitamin pills to keep 'em going.
There's old Jerre and Robert, too. They are so dam old they don't need nothing but two rocking chairs and some Geritol.
I met Smokey down in the barn in the hay and he can almost talk. In fact he can talk to a Jolly Old Elf like me. He said he likes to chase around here after birds and armadillos. He says he really knows how to hunt quail, track 'em down, and point at 'em and all that stuff, but no one ever taught him so he just plays dumb and goes ahead and chases armadillos because it is easier and less regimented.
Well HO HO HO and I'm going to grab a quick piece of cake and a short nap in the hay and then I'll be on my way.
Tell David , Jan and David I missed them out here but I'll catch them in Houston.
Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, and Au Revoir.
Jolly Old St. Nick
Dear Santa:
These are critical years for those who believe design can improve the human condition. The idea is as old as Utopian Thought. What is "new?" Melding of observable behavior patterns and understanding of client aspirations and needs, and use of emerging technology to affect the built environment might be accomplished by design.
Whether this is the basis for a new aesthetic is not yet clear. But no conscientious planner or designer can ignore a growing body of knowledge waiting application.
Pat
***
Dear Santa Claus,
I've been urging mother to let me open a present.
Well, Smokey's learning to talk real good, You don't have to worry about him biting you, he might bark, but he won't bite.
How do you like our Christmas tree? I think it is the beautifulest tree we've had. I hope you fill my stocking. Do you like my little guy on the mantle? Bev made it. You know the lady I've known so long?
Look at all the presents under the tree. I've got 11 or 12. We've got candles all over the house this year. You know Christmas Eve is Sylvia's birthday. She'll be 24!
Be sure and stop by David's house, They are not going to be able to be with us on Christmas. Jan had to work everyday except Christmas! That's terrible isn't it?
Well, Good Bye!!
Becky
***
Ho Ho Ho
This country air really makes a feller sleepy. From Nottingham to Shannon Valley Drive to the Ranch... you Darnell kids sure change around a lot for Christmas.
Becky, you are the only little one left so my job is getting easier every year at your house. I hear you are beginning to ask silly questions like "Is there really a Santa Claus?" Believe you me if I ain't real this sure is a tired old nothing and I sure don't feel like nothing.
Anyway, real or not, here it is, and here is a pretty neat bicycle for you, Becky. I hope it works better than the one last year. Oh, well, we all make mistakes.
I see old Pat and Ron and Sylvia over there asleep. They are so big now that they don't need my toys; just some work clothes and vitamin pills to keep 'em going.
There's old Jerre and Robert, too. They are so dam old they don't need nothing but two rocking chairs and some Geritol.
I met Smokey down in the barn in the hay and he can almost talk. In fact he can talk to a Jolly Old Elf like me. He said he likes to chase around here after birds and armadillos. He says he really knows how to hunt quail, track 'em down, and point at 'em and all that stuff, but no one ever taught him so he just plays dumb and goes ahead and chases armadillos because it is easier and less regimented.
Well HO HO HO and I'm going to grab a quick piece of cake and a short nap in the hay and then I'll be on my way.
Tell David , Jan and David I missed them out here but I'll catch them in Houston.
Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, and Au Revoir.
Jolly Old St. Nick
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