When I Stop I Really Stop…

I guess I thought that since I missed my 30 day goal I’d just get back to doing it whenever…  And here I am. 

I think that maybe I bit off more than I could chew at a stretch. Perhaps I need to think in smaller increments since I’m pretty distractible.  Maybe start off with 3 days in a row or some such and then go to 5 days and so forth.  All I can do is try.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch… no, literally, the ranch.

This is where my grandmother Lucy was raised, if I get the story right, down outside of Madisonville, Texas.   That’s her on the right in the white blouse and dark skirt.  She was a school teacher and she made my granddaddy wait seven years before she would marry him.  She wanted to be sure that she got all her brothers through school.  Her daddy, my great granddaddy, was shot and killed by three men in front of one of her brothers when they went to town one day.  Two men held him and a third man shot him and they lit out for the hills.  My grandmother and everyone else knew who the killers were but they were never caught.  I guess they left Texas for parts unknown but Lucy carried a gun in her apron for years and if she’d ever seen them she would have given them a taste of frontier justice.  My oldest brother spent a lot of time with grandmother and granddad and he said she was a crack shot.  She taught him how to shoot.  She would give him a single shot .22 rifle and one bullet to go out and get a rabbit or squirrel for dinner.  He said if he missed there was no meat on the table.

Since none of these photos were dated, we just have to kind of guess about ages… this photo looks to me to be probably about the time she finished school.  She was younger looking than in the following photos.  If any of my sibs or my cousins correct me I’ll let you know…

This is a photo of her taken with her school children.  She taught first through eighth grades in a one room school.  You can see her there on your left with her school bell in hand.  She was a pretty determined woman from what I gather and didn’t truck too much foolishness, at least where getting an education was concerned, but I have to think from knowing my mom, my aunts and my uncle and my great uncles that humor was a part of their lives.

I think this photo was probably taken the same time as the picture on the ranch at the beginning of this story.

As near as we can figure this was probably taken about the time she and granddad got married. I was only six when grandmother died and I can say that I only have two memories of her other than the stories that I was told.  One was at their home in Konawa, Oklahoma, where they lived in their old age, and the other was one time I went with momma when grandmother was in a nursing home and didn’t know anyone, but I have loved grandmother stories all my life. 

That’s all for now folks… I’ll try to get back sooner rather than later and continue this epistle.  It’s a beautiful day here, about 80 degrees (F.) here and I’m going to go do some things outside.