Brushy Ridge School, 1945

                                                               Another one of my hawks

I am back again. Mowing grass, trimming and a lot of other mis. work has taken my time. Not complaining.There has been over the last several weeks a rash of friends passing on and is always sad. The beauty of spring is awesome with colors a plenty. It is a time to wander along the river and across fields of wild flowers, to remember not to leave a path. Heidi is doing very well, a loving and trusted friend. People are begining to float the rivers and mass together in Branson and other theme parks, but I am not one to run with the herd. I have finished two paintings as noted in the photos. The painting of the Brushy Ridge School is my favorite of all the paintings I created this winter. It depicts Sept. 1, 1945, my first year at the school. I have many memories tucked away of those years I attended. I am working on another book, a nonfiction of the Prehistory of the Indian along the Niangua River Basin including the adventures of my journey. Life is good at present and I look forward to each day, starting it with a cup of Red Rose Tea, looking out the window toward Bare Foot Pass. Adios