Naruna Update

  Anyone who complains of Texas weather being boring, obviously isn't paying very good attention.  It is an often stated "fact" that Texas has only two seasons...Summer and Not Summer.  This is close to being true many years, but there are always those bumps in the graphs which make our lives interesting.
  Last summer passed with records being set for the number of days over 100 degrees, and many of those days set records on their own, with temps of 105-107 and above becoming commonplace.  Surface water dried up, wells faltered, and what grass was left turned to powder and blew away.  As with most hot, dry spells, the summer eventually came to an end.  Instead of the more common deluges and floods we see here in the Hill Country, it ended with a series of small, repeated rounds of rain throughout the fall and into the winter.  Stock tanks filled, low water crossings actually were, and everything took on a greenish hue(often associated with mildew!)   Then, unusually cold weather caused a lot of record utility bills throughout the winter!
  Warm weather came early in the spring, with lots of fruit trees setting buds sooner than most of us wanted to see.  Fortunately, we escaped any late hard freezes which would have affected the fruit.  Now it is the middle of May, and we are enjoying an unseasonably cool spell, with temps in the mid 60s.  Today dawned cool, gray and drippy and is only now beginning to get into the low 70s.  If you still don't believe that our weather affects us all, just drop by Naruna and we can compare electric bills...the one I paid yesterday was almost $350.00 less than what we were seeing in January & February.

Family (re)Connections

In years gone by, families stayed close together. Sons grew up working the land, and either stayed on the home place helping out their parents, or moved onto a piece of property not far removed as they started their own family.  Extended family might be scattered over a couple of counties, but generally weren't too far apart.  With the demands imposed by an agricultural lifestyle (long before there was such a word!), those extended family groups didn't have many opportunities to gather.  Family reunions provided a chance for the family to come together, visit and catch up on the happenings in each other's households, cousins to play together & become reacquainted, and for everyone to sample the special dishes that each housewife was proudest of.

My own family was no different.  Most of the different branches of our clan moved from the Carolinas to Texas sometime in the second half of the 19th century.  It was not one smooth movement, and there were obstacles to overcome along the way.  One such impediment was the War of Northern Aggression which found relatives scattered from Alabama to Louisiana, and on into Texas.  As the family groups trickled into Texas, they settled in the area around Brenham, Chappel Hill, Kenney, and Waller County.  As the families grew and spread, annual reunions, scheduled around the planting and harvesting of crops, were a way to keep up with how everybody was doing.

Fast forwarding to today, much of the world has changed.  For many of us, we are no longer bound to the soil, and have left behind that relative comfort & safety we once experienced when living close to kin.  We have spread, sometimes across continents, and in our high speed world, the idea of "going home" for the purpose of "catching up" and renewing relationships is foreign to us.  We connect instantly via our many electronic toys, and fail to see the need to sit down with each other.  If you don't believe this, corner a teenager and try to have a conversation.

This past weekend, I began the process of trying to undo the last 45 or so years I had neglected those family ties.  College, marriage, children, the army & work had all provided excuses for not being able to attend reunions.  I appeared in Brenham at Fireman's Park with my Lovely Bride in tow, with a cooler full of lemonade, pasta salad & buttermilk pie.  The turn out was light, with most present my age or older, but we were made to feel welcome, especially since we were the first actual "Haleys" to attend the Haley Reunion in many years.  Old photo albums were scrutinized, genealogy charts were reviewed and updated, and friendships begun or renewed.  A sense of excitement could be felt as plans were put in place for next year's gathering.

Sunday morning found us driving out to the rural section of Waller County where I was born and raised.  This was a different group, with most of the attendees still living in the same region.  We were the ones driving the farthest, from our home in the Hill Country, to attend this gathering of a different branch of the family, the Bells.  It was a much more diverse group age wise than we found on Saturday.  Here were the groups of kids playing together, older relatives holding court from their lawn chairs and those in-betweeners circulating from one picnic table to the next, catching up on each other's lives.  I found cousins I went to school with back in the dark ages.  Back then, all we knew was we were related somehow.  With the assemblage of historical knowledge and a couple of books of family trees, we were able to plot out more exactly what is our kinship.


As I sat and listened to these cousins talking, I felt immediately comfortable and at home.  The conversation, whenever we weren't discussing relatives, kept going back to agriculture and their relationship with the land.  Only after listening for awhile was I struck by the difference that a couple hundred miles can make.  In Naruna, everyone has been very thankful for our wet winter and most are very happy with our water status...stock tanks are full, no wells are going dry, and the pastures are green with forage.  In Monaville, the total annual rainfall is much greater, but with corn planted and up, everybody was worried about "the drought" and how it would affect those crops which were in the ground if rain didn't come soon.  When you depend on the land for your livelihood, it's all about timing. 

I'm already making plans for next year, and my kids don't know it yet, but they are included in those plans.  I realized that this was something I missed over the years without knowing it, and enjoyed the chance to rebuild those all important connections with family.  My children have never had the opportunity to form those bonds or to even realize they have an extended family out there waiting to meet and welcome them.

Oliver

Oliver was a cat we weren't supposed to have.  His mother was a stray who just appeared one day and made herself at home on our rather remote place in the country.  Between her frequent roamings and our procrastination, she delivered a litter of kittens before we could get her to our local vet.  Most were quickly given away one summer's day while we held a garage sale.  The little white one was spoken for, but the family was on the way to town and asked if we could hold him until they returned.  Mysteriously, they never came back, and so we ended up with two new cats, Oliver and his slightly demented sister, Tizzie.

Oliver displayed a remarkable propensity for getting into trouble, always being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Neighbors would tell us of him showing up in their live traps on occasion.  He also seemed to delight in taunting our dogs, since they were frequently shut up in their pen, while he got to wander freely about Naruna.  One day he got carried away in his desire to rub the dogs' noses in his relative freedom, and ran into their pen when the gate was opened!  Needless to say, the dogs exacted their revenge upon the annoying pussycat.  After a quick trip to a kitty orthopedic specialist in Temple and a week long stay in the feline rehab center, a much subdued Oliver returned to Naruna.  He regained his physical abilities with few limitations, but he was a changed cat.  His sister, Tizzie, would have nothing to do with him since he apparently didn't smell like her little brother anymore. 

After this traumatic experience, Oliver became more of a Momma's boy, seeming to spend more and more time with Susan.  Even after recovering fully, he spent much of his time curled up in her lap or on the sofa next to her.  Over time, he gradually began to roam farther afield and act more like his old self.  He would prowl the neighboring pastures and frequently bring "presents" home to Susan.  As the years passed, Susan and Oliver were a fixture, snoozing on their end of the couch in a patch of afternoon sun.

When we returned home late one night from a trip about a month ago, Tizzie was waiting, demanding attention and food.  Oliver didn't make an appearance immediately which wasn't unusual, but the next morning, he still was not home.  Calls to neighbors were fruitless, and no one at the church across the road had seen him.  With time passing, hope ebbed, and now after being absent for more than a month, we are forced to face the reality that Oliver is gone.  This is definitely harder than losing previous pets, where we knew what happened to them and frequently sat with them in their last hours. 

Not knowing.

Over Stimulation!

Personally, I favor a more leisurely approach to life, but our goverment has put in place deadlines for us to submit our calculations of what we think we should pay for the privilege of living in this great land.  Whether we are in agreement with how those taxes are spent is completely immaterial...our responsibility is to pay.  Then we pray that the people who were so convincing before the last election remember what they promised when they asked for our support and our votes.  Sometimes, those elected representatives actually remember and try to follow through on those promises...but we still pay.

This past year saw more versions of the truth than had been floated in many a day.  It seemed that everyone in Washington knew exactly what we needed, as opposed to what we thought we wanted.  One particularly ambitious scheme was a plan to disperse free money to ordinary citizens to stimulate the economy.  The particulars of this operation were a little fuzzy, few knew how it would be implemented, and fewer understood how giving small pots of money to individual citizens was supposed to jump-start our national economy.  Numerous mailings(paid for by us taxpayers) from different agencies announced that - much like Ed McMahon's sweepstakes - we were already winners and should soon receive our fair share of the bounty.

After a few months with no knock on the door and no check in the mail, I decided that I must have been one of the unlucky few who didn't qualify because of too much income, voting in the wrong primary, or some such detail.  The year passed and a new year dawned with a new set of tax deadlines.  Like many these days, I went to my local electronics emporium, and purchased software which takes most of the thinking out of tax preparation.  As information arrived from employers, banks and mortgage companies, I dutifully entered the data and watched the everchanging tally of how much more I owed big brother.  Finally, the flow of information  slowed and then stopped, and I saw that I did indeed owe our benevolent federal government another $110.  I have heard rumors that some people actually expect to get money back from the Infernal Revenue Syndicate each year, but I was excited to only owe that small additional amount.

The computer clicked and whirred as it checked all the data and recalculated the calculations, and proudly announced that all was well and it was time to send my return off into the ether of the Internet.  Only the push of a button was needed to send it on its way.  I sat in front of the screen, happy and satisified that this annual duty was completed and with no great additional financial trauma.  Suddenly, the computer bleeped and blooped and a message flashed on the screen that my return was REJECTED by the IRS!  Instantly, my stomach dropped and my brow became beaded with sweat as I frantically clicked on this message of doom.  Fortunately, the tax software knew just what to do and I quickly discovered the Feds had indeed sent me an Economic Stimulus Payment.  It was slipped into disability payments I received from the VA and had been spread out so it wasn't really noticeable.  No standard form proclaiming this payment was received, and it was only the IRS who seemed to know that I had gotten $250 more than I thought. 

Of course, the ultimate indication of how great the economic impact of this so-called Stimulus money was when I added it to my return.  Increasing the total income by $250 caused an increase of additional tax owed of exactly $250!  The government giveth and the government taketh away!  I'm not sure I can stand to be stimulated any more!

Bad Dogs! Bad Dogs!

Sunday morning arrived early, with dogs whining to be loosed into the clear morning air.  The Lovely Bride lost the mental coin toss, and headed downstairs to let them out into the predawn darkness.  Little Ruby Jean, with the smallest bladder, immediately ran, did her business, and scampered back into the warmth of the kitchen.  When the two larger dogs didn't immediately return, the LB stuck her head out the door and started calling them in her best fishwife voice.  Rosie the Lab had decided this was the perfect morning for a tour of the neighborhood, and Sam the Beagle tagged along to see what sort of interesting trouble they could find to get into.

This was not the first time Rosie had led Sam off the straight and narrow path.  The LB swears Rosie waits until your back is turned and then disappears faster than any old and crippled dog possibly could.  (Rosie has a steel rod, a plate and a handful of screws in a hind leg from a youthful indiscretion!)  Usually, she won't leave by herself, but if she can convince Sam to go along, she will take off and may be gone for hours or even overnight.

A quick scan of the roadways leading in and out of Naruna showed no signs of the two truants, so knowing they almost always come home when they are ready I settled in with the paper and some coffee.  Time for church came and while catching up on the neighborhood happenings, a couple of folks reported seeing the wayfarers moseying down one of the local county roads.  After church, we headed across the road to the house, discussing our plan for tracking down the mutinous mutts, when I noticed what looked suspiciously like Sam the Beagle sitting in his pen.  Getting closer, Rosie's head popped up, and the LB & I started congratulating ourselves on not having to chase dogs.  Arriving at the pen, we discovered that not only were the dogs in the pen, but the gate was shut and the latch in place!  They are devious dogs, but even they have not figured out how to lock the gate behind themselves. 

The mystery of who fetched the prodigals home wasn't answered until last night, when the local deputy sheriff knocked on our door.  He lives 3 or 4 miles away and had happened up on the two dogs as he was leaving home that morning.  He recognized them from some of their previous exploits, and persuaded his wife to sit in the back of the pickup with the dogs as he gave them a ride home.  It is not the first time they have been brought home, but surely the first time by the cops!  Thank you, Charley, for bringing them home!  And a special thanks to the wife who rode in the back of an open pickup with two wet dogs, after they apparently found a roadkill skunk to roll in!

Naruna Weather Update

Weather in Texas is one of those ephemera which is hard to grasp and pin down solidly.  Blazing heat and endless droughts are what folks usually think of as typical Texas weather, interrupted occasionally by floods and blinding blizzards.

Central Texas has been caught up in what the government has been calling an "exceptional" drought for the past couple of years.  The Feds have a long list of criteria which helps to identify the severity of the situation, but when the grass crumbles, turns to dust and blows away on the hot south wind, we know it is DRY.  Droughts in Texas usually end with torrential rains and devastating flooding.  This time, El Nino has scrambled the weather patterns, causing a wetter than usual fall and winter.  We have seen some snow flurries a couple of times, with sleet and just plain rain thrown in for good measure.  For the most part, we have avoided any bad flooding, with everything just staying a little moist.  This process has been gradual enough to almost avoid notice, but this past week we were blessed with 5.5 inches of rain over seven days.  Stock tanks were filled to overflowing, creeks and streams out of their banks, and water running across low-water crossings!  Even Lake Naruna was filled.  Actually, that is normally just a low corner of the pasture across the county road from our house which collects water if enough comes down at one time.  Even knowing its transient nature, it is still good to look out and see this acre or so covered with a foot or two of water.  And it is still cool enough that mosquitos aren't yet a problem.

When the army moved us to Oahu in the mid '80s, we quickly ruled out living on the Leeward side of the island, because it was dry and brown with prickly pear in spots.  Rather than live someplace which looked like west Texas, we opted for the Windward side where everything was green.  During the next four years we discovered the downside was that all was green from the constant mildew!  Naruna hasn't gotten to that point, but it certainly feels soggy enough.  Who knows what next week will bring??

Ruby the Cowdog

Have you ever noticed that those things in life we feel most certain of, rarely turn out exactly the way we expect?  The child you are convinced is going to become a ballerina turns out to have two left feet; or the surefire investment that just can't fail...does; or the strong, durable legs which have carried you around for years suddenly aren't able to do as good a job of keeping up.

With our pets, we also have certain expectations as we enter our relationships.  My Lovely Bride's most recent acquisition, a small mixture of Chihuahua and maybe Yorkshire terrier was supposed to be a cute and cuddly lap dog she could hold and pet at will.  She worried about how overly dependent on their humans such little dogs sometimes become, and even took the little dog to church so it could get used to being out in the world and being around people.

She needn't have worried about Ruby Jean.  Ruby quickly let it be known she was not going to meekly adopt the stereotypical "toy dog" personna.  She was quick to run and greet anyone who approached, but didn't really like being picked up and cuddled.  Occasionally she would crawl into the LB's lap, but it was always on her own terms. 

When the rancher leasing the property next door installed a water trough on the fence line, Ruby discovered her true calling in life.  Suddenly, she found there were these huge creatures in her world, who obviously needed to be herded!  And herd them she did...or at least she tried.  Fifteen hundred pound cows who are used to dogs, don't pay a lot of attention to a 9 pound flyweight whose bark comes out as more of a squeak.  This certainly didn't keep Ruby from trying her best, and generally, after drinking their fill, the cows would wander off to a quieter corner of the pasture.  Ruby would urge them on with a few last yaps, and then very proudly come sauntering back to the house, confident of her continued ranking as the top Cowdog in all of Naruna.