Bert Catches Up...

 Hi Frank,

I figured I owed you an update on life in Fort Davis. I haven't run into any more rattlesnakes but one big old bullsnake took a few years off my life when I stepped on him out by the garage. The rule is "you leave bullsnakes alone because they eat rats". Well I'm here to tell you I left that snake alone because it nearly scared the pee, waddle, and doo out of me. He slithered off on his own eventually. I don't know if I'm going to be real comfortable out here if I see many more snakes. You know I hate snakes! At least that monster tarantula hasn't been around anymore. 

I finally got all my stuff delivered from UPS. It cost me a small fortune to get everything delivered that I couldn't fit into that old Chevy pickup. I feel like I've finally settled into my new "home" now. I even tried my hand at cooking myself a meal last night. More about that later.

I made my first run to the grocery store this week. It's a little bit easier buying for just one....depressing and all but at least I got two years experience shopping while I was caring for Velma. I did my shopping at the Stone Village Market. It sure wasn't a Super Walmart but I found everything I thought I needed. Nice people at the store...friendly and helpful but I will have some fear the next time I go there. As soon as I got there and picked up a cart I noticed an elderly lady struggling with her heavy cart. I offered to help her get her groceries to the car and I think she thought more of it than I intended. She is evidently one of the wealthy widows in town. Her car was a sleek, new black Cadillac. There wasn't a spot of dust on it so I assume she could afford for someone to keep it clean for her. I've found it impossible to keep dust off my truck. Anyway, I pushed her cart for her and then put all the bags in the trunk of the car. She stood by constantly thanking me, like it was a real treat to have someone help her like that. I think she fell in love with me right there in the parking lot. Before I could get away from her I had to turn down a five dollar tip, suffer through an uncomfortable hug, and a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she told me she wanted to have me over for dinner sometime soon. I may have to move to Marfa! 

I got home from the store and it was already getting dark. I didn't really want to go out to eat dinner again because to tell the truth, I'm putting on a few pounds already. I decided to cook up my Sunday night special I used to make for Velma and me. I opened up a can of tomato soup and got it going then heated up an old cast iron frying pan I found in the pantry. (Someone is probably wondering what happened to their prized frying pan.) This kitchen isn't anything like what we had back home. It's laid out all wrong for me but I reckon I'll get used to it. I didn't pack a lot of Velma's kitchen stuff. Most of it sold in my moving sale but I did keep one long-handled ladle. I had it resting in the soup pot while I got my grilled cheese put together. I remembered I needed to stir that soup and reached over to the ladle. That ladle was closer than I realized and I hit that handle causing a whole ladle filled with hot tomato soup to fly out of the pot, on to the floor....and the cabinet door...and my shirt and jeans. I even found some on my socks.  I got the mess all cleaned up and grilled my sandwich without burning it. When I went to get a plate for the sandwich I hit that cotton-picking ladle handle again and had a repeat performance of the evening's entertainment. I couldn't believe I did that. I sat down and ate my sandwich with a few Fritos, cleaned up the mess...and myself again, and tossed that long-handled ladle in the trash. I hope there's a Dollar Store here in town cause that was my only kitchen utensil. I had to toast the grilled cheese using my pocketknife.....and had I successfully heated up a pot of tomato soup I would have discovered I also didn't have a spoon....or soup bowl. I guess I better make up another shopping list and get some basics bought before I try to cook again. I don't think I'm going to like cooking on a regular basis. I'm glad the cafe is close and open seven days a week. 

It's kind of depressing rereading this before sending it. It hasn't been a stellar week for me. I'll write again soon...when I might actually have something to write about. I hope you and Irma are well. I would sure like to have a visit whenever you can get away....just let me know you're coming and I'll buy an extra can of soup! Ha

Y'all take care, Bert

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Note from the editor: I told Russell it was okay, and not entirely crazy, to have imaginary friends but to not get too carried away with stories about them. I said, "your readers didn't start reading your stories because they were imagined. You need to stay true to your roots and include a story about your past on a regular basis so you won't lose anyone." He thanked me for my insight and wisdom and said we'd go out for Mexican food tonight!! Yay!!

Bert, Frank, and Lou

 I was a bit surprised, but very appreciative of the positive responses to my last story. I really didn't think anyone would be too interested in my imaginary friends. I figured they would remain hidden in my messy assortment of notes stuffed into the top left drawer of my desk. If you really want to know, I'll first give a quick update on Bert. If you remember, Bert recently moved to Fort Davis, Texas from his home in Fort Worth, Texas. His decision to move was prompted by the death of his beloved wife, Velma. He couldn't stay in their home after she passed so he sold out, moved to a little town in West Texas he had only visited once, but immediately fell in love with the town, the area, and the whole idea of small town life. His letters back home to his best friend and former neighbor, Frank, make up the basis of stories about him. Nothing much of interest has happened for Bert in the past two weeks. He's been busy setting up utilities, emptying all the moving boxes, and of course finding the best place to go for breakfast. He promises himself he will send a note to Frank as soon as the dust settles...especially so he can tell him about his first trip to the grocery store.

Today I want to introduce you to a young man named Lou. Lou is twenty-five, single (again), and at a dead-end path concerning his future. He seems all alone in the world because, well, he is alone in the world. 

Lou never thought his life would take such a sour turn as he was growing up. He had wonderful parents, one brother and two sisters, a plan to become an electrical engineer after college, and lots of anticipation for a full life. When it came time to start college, Lou enrolled at the University of Texas as Arlington. The campus was close to home and several of his friends were going there. Things started to unravel for Lou toward the end of his freshman year though. His dad was offered an opportunity to move up the corporate ladder with his company, but only if he would relocate to Detroit. Lou's dad grabbed the chance to make more money and told the family to get ready to move. His sales pitch to Lou was, "Hey man, Ann Arbor is really close to Detroit. In fact, we might even choose to live there. You can transfer to the University of Michigan to start your second year of school. You'll love it!" Despite this sales pitch, Lou wasn't interested in leaving Texas. He bargained with his dad to stay behind to finish school by finding a small apartment close to campus and paying less to stay at UTA. He even proposed he would be willing to pay his own living expenses, rent included, if he could just stay in Texas. You could have knocked him over with a feather when his dad agreed. The only stipulation was if getting a job to cover living expenses caused his GPA to drop by even a point, he would be moving to Detroit with the family.

Lou loved his family but he was really excited to be getting his own place. He quickly found a job at a Kroger grocery store and signed a lease for a tiny loft in an older apartment building close to UTA. His parents left for Detroit after selling the house Lou grew up in and Lou moved into the little closet he would now call home. It seems like all was well for the whole family and Lou never looked back with regrets. He liked his job at the grocery store because he worked nights and had plenty of time for his classes and study. He kept his GPA right where it should be after the second semester and enrolled for a full load the following fall semester. 

Life was good....well, things were actually better than good. During the summer Lou was invited to a party thrown by one of the older students. It so happened that a certain baby sister of said older student had been instrumental in getting Lou to the party. She had met Lou at the Kroger while shopping and immediately "fell in love". Her name was Dana. She was eighteen, kind of tall but drop dead gorgeous with her stylish outfits, brilliant red hair and flawless complexion. I'll note here that the description I gave was from Lou. I never actually met the girl. Dana quickly became Lou's downfall in college. Her parents were loaded and Dana was the very spoiled little sister. It didn't take long before Lou was spending more time with Dana than he spent studying, working, and even sleeping. He was smitten!

As the fall semester began, Lou told Dana he had to concentrate on keeping his GPA where it was supposed to be. She either didn't quite understand the situation or really didn't care. She kept trying to keep Lou all to herself and a nineteen year old boy is going to opt for girl over grades...every time. It didn't take long before Lou realized he was in trouble. He had to get busy and bring his grades back up. Dana still didn't back off. She was going to a local junior college because, "Daddy said I have to go to college. I don't know why because I don't plan to ever work!" Her twelve hours of freshman classes weren't hard to keep up with and she didn't think Lou's eighteen hours should take any longer. Oh, and she hated the idea of her boyfriend working as a clerk at a grocery store. She also hated the ancient loft Lou called home. After just one semester Lou had to tell his dad he had blown the GPA. He also had to tell Dana he would be leaving for Detroit after he completed his sophomore year.  

This isn't the end of Lou's story. It's only the beginning. To find out what really broke Lou, you are invited to "stay tuned" for the next episode. 

Oh Baby, It's Cold Outside...

... ten degrees to be exact. If I had wanted to experience ten degree weather I would have caught a flight to my cousin, Kitty's farm in North Dakota. Sorry Kitty, I love you, miss you, and all, but I don't want to see you that bad. I've been up since five o'clock. This has been happening more and more lately and to be honest I'm kind of tired of this new trend as well. Up at five to look out and see the snow on the ground and the mercury so low I can't see it on my patio Coca' Cola thermometer makes me a bit angry. I have done all my Bible reading, polished off a pot of coffee, ate two fried eggs and cleaned up my mess, and I'm sitting here wondering what else to do with my time. Debbie is smart. She's still in that nice warm bed sleeping deeply and probably dreaming of the two of us romping along a sunny beach somewhere. Or maybe it's just her romping because I haven't been able to romp since I broke my leg ten years ago. I have nothing of importance to do today. It's way too cold to work in my shop. I've already got my income tax info ready and I've finished ten more books off my "to read" stack recently so I'm tired of reading. What to do? What to do? Oh! I know! I'll bore all of you to death for a bit. 

You may not believe this about someone as intellectual as me but I have two imaginary friends. One of them is an old guy like me and he's just recently been left a widower.  His name is Bert. Bert also has an imaginary friend named Frank. I make up stories about Bert and then Bert writes to his friend and old neighbor, Frank. Frank gets a kick out of Bert's letters because that old Bert does have a witty way about him, even with his recent tragic loss.

My other imaginary friend is a young guy. Single and just starting out in life away from his foster home, he's struggling with what to do with his newfound freedom. His name is Lou. Lou is just eighteen and not really a friend. He's too young to develop a friendship with an old toot like me but he needs me to create his story...poor guy. He's going to lead a boring life if he's depending on me. 

I created Bert about two years ago and added his friend Frank at the same time. I don't know much about Frank. I just read the letters Bert writes to him. Lou is new to my weary brain. I'm still struggling with his direction in life so enough about him for now. I did just read a short letter from Bert and I'll pass it along if you're interested:

Dear Frank,

I sure do miss the old neighborhood and our weekly visits for coffee and cigars out in your workshop. I wish I hadn't felt the need to get away but after Velma's passing the house was too empty and filled with too many memories of her last days. I know she isn't suffering anymore and that gives me comfort but I'm not sure this void left in my life will ever be filled.

I did make it out to Fort Davis without any car trouble. I wasn't sure that old pickup would make it without leaving me stranded at least once but it did okay! I've rented a little place a little ways out of town that has a detached two-car garage. I'm hoping to use the garage for a workshop and maybe find an old car to restore. Velma never wanted me to have an old junk car sitting in the driveway so I guess now's the time! I have plenty of room here. Lot's of.....dirt. To be honest there's lots of bare dirt and sand on my little rented property but there's lots of room and a great place to set an old wreck right in front of that garage. I figure I'll strip down whatever I find and move the parts into the garage to work on til it's all ready to reassemble. This might just be a dream but that's my plan for now.

I'm trying out a little cafe in town this morning. I hope they make good, strong coffee. I hate weak coffee. I hope to meet at least one person to talk to at the cafe. The folks out here seem friendly and are quick with a smile and a "hello" but so far no one has bothered to introduce themselves or ask about this newcomer to the area. I hope I haven't made a mistake about Fort Davis. I always wanted to move out west and this is about as far west as I cared to go and still stay in Texas. I've already killed one rattlesnake in the yard and chased off a stray dog making a home in my garage. I don't like snakes....especially rattlesnakes. I get the willies just thinking about it. If I see another one I'm gonna wish I hadn't chased off that old mangy dog.

Sorry for this boring rambling. If you hadn't guessed, yes, I'm lonely. I'll let you know how my first trek to town works out.

Your old buddy, Bert

ps: I left this letter laying on the table when I went for breakfast. You won't believe this: When I walked out on the porch to leave I saw the biggest tarantula I've ever seen just sitting there grinning at me. I decided to turn around and leave by the back door. It was gone when I got home and now I'm worried it's inside the house and will crawl across my face sometime in the night. I may have chosen poorly when I chose to move to west Texas. Snakes and tarantulas already! Willies, willies!!!

B

I'll tell you now that Bert did stay in Fort Davis. He made friends with the family down the road, got a part time job at the hardware store, and struggled to keep the little old widow ladies at bay. If you want to read more of Bert's ramblings to Frank let me know. If not, I'll keep them to myself. Oh, and if you have any suggestions for Lou's direction in life I would love to hear them. Write me on the blog page or email.

Blowin' In The Wind...

 I'm sitting here in my nice warm house with my nice hot coffee while watching the wind work on removing the remaining leaves from my trees. The sound of the wind is what makes me nostalgic. When I was still in elementary school my dad was transferred to New Mexico to work on a "special project". I didn't know it was only a temporary move so I made the mistake of falling in love with my new state. What we were experiencing was magical to me. I found my home! It was magical for my mom too. She loved it so much she would sit and stare out the windows, cry, and wipe more dust off the window seals. It was wonderful! I would fall asleep at night listening to the wind. It was so peaceful. 

My brother, Glenn, and I embraced New Mexico for all it was worth. I'm not sure I ever saw my mom or three sisters step outside during our stay out there but Glenn and I loved it. It seems there were things provided by nature itself to entertain us. Our first excited find was what some called "tumbleweeds". We knew these were actually manna from heaven and we tried to collect every weed that rolled by. We wore ourselves out trying to catch them all before they got away. We needed a good place to store our collection of course so we used the garage daddy had so thoughtfully added to the plans of our new house. Glenn and I really appreciated that thoughtfulness and we used it daily. Our first use was on the first day daddy went to work...and we hadn't enrolled in the new school yet. We roamed the open spaces, found an alfalfa field close by for our new hiding place, collected tumbleweeds until the garage was so full we were afraid we might damage them if we forced any more in. Who knew how long this tumbleweed blessing might last?

Eventually we had to make that long and much dreaded trek to the new school. It was so far we thought we might need to pack a lunch even though my mom insisted it was less than a quarter-mile across an open field. She walked with us that first day...I guess to make sure we actually went. As much as I loved my new home, I hated my new school. I'm sure I've already bored you with that first day so just as a quick reminder: 1) My brand new shiny-headed crew cut was not the rage in Roswell, New Mexico; 2) I was sporting my new shoes which were off brand Hush Puppies...in olive green: there weren't enough desks in my classroom so I had to sit at the teacher's desk staring at a class of unfriendly faces looking back at me; 3) and of course, it was late enough in the school year that I had grown out of all my clothes. I was immediately branded "high water" because my jeans were so short my argyle socks were the predominate sight down there...no one even seemed to notice my green, off brand Hush Puppies until the newness of high water jeans grew old.

As I sit here remembering all of this I wonder why I get so nostalgic when the wind blows hard enough to hear. I still love the sound though and I still love thinking back on my short time in Roswell, New Mexico.