The Loud and the Proud

This morning, my lifelong roommate and I went to the balloon fest again and we were hoping to see all the balloons take off. We saw a grand total of one. The rest packed up and went home because it was a little too windy for them, the pansies. :)

So, we took off slowly for home not really wanting to go home just yet, at least I didn't and I probably should have asked the roomie her opinion on the matter.

We stumbled upon a really cool place in our meandering. It was a rather large piece of sculpture by the Bible Building at Abilene Christian University. Since it was Sunday morning and still pretty early there was nobody anywhere around. The sculpture probably deserves it's own time.

The roommate decided on taking pictures so I just kind of wandered around aimlessly. I saw a loose dog that looked to be lost and I sat down to call the little fella over to me. The stinking little fella wanted none of that and took off like shot out of a cannon. I decided to just sit and chill a bit.

Then, the Blue Jays arrived in all of their glory. Ah, I know a lot of people don't like these loud little rascals, but when I hear them I am often transformed into another time and another place.

They always make me think about my childhood and the many summers spent in Gainesville, Texas. I was born and raised in the lower Rio Grande River Valley otherwise known as just 'the Valley'. But, my Pappy had his college degree and my Mom was finishing up with hers at Pan American University in Edinburg and also North Texas State in Denton. Gainesville is just a few miles from Denton, so we spent a lot of my early summers in Gainesville staying with my grandparents.

We called my grandfather Papa, and I was my Papa's boy. Hate to brag, but I am pretty sure I was his favorite. My siblings or a cousin or two might argue that, but to my dying day I will claim to be his favorite. He will always be one of my favorite people that I have ever known in my entire life.

We didn't have the Blue Jays in the Valley to my memory, but they were plentiful in Gainesville and they made enough noise to stick in my mind and last through the school year until we got back up to Gainesville. The noise these birds made was so distinctive to me that it still stirs up thoughts of yesteryear even today some 40 years later. To me, that's kind of incredible in itself.

Now, Gainesville days were happy days. My Papa was special and he took good care of us.

He was a cowboy. He had been forced to sell his home place when his brothers and sisters wanted their fair shares, but he never gave up his love of horses and cattle so he had a small place and he leased a bunch of ranch land. We spent a lot of time helping him take care of things around the places.

I learned to ride at an early age and like to brag that I grew up on a back of a horse. That's not entirely true, but we did ride a lot and looked forward to those times. Later on, my Papa also bought us our own little horse that we had down on our tiny hacienda in the Valley.

Fun times. It's almost amusing that I look at it that way because sometimes he worked me pretty good. I helped him haul hay a couple of times and we worked cattle and all kinds of other chores. But, I guess I tend to look at it as good times mostly and overlook the work and the sweat.

As I was sitting by that sculpture this morning, I was taken back to that place and time when things were simple and easy and they just made sense.

My Papa has been gone a long time. So have his horses and all those cows. The land has all changed and I doubt I could even find it anymore. Those old Blue Jays are dead and gone and have been replaced by newer just as loud versions reminding me of the good ole days. Thinking those thoughts that I am now typing made me feel a little weird and a little sad, but I am so thankful for those good ole days and my Papa and the wonderful memories that I have of him and being his favorite.

I wouldn't take the world for them.

From my father I learned a work ethic, from my Papa I learned that there's always tomorrow.

Thanks, Papa, for the wonderful memories and the knowledge that tomorrow is sometimes soon enough.

And, thank you Blue Jays for being so dang loud and proud and for taking me back.