Heidi, getting a little plump

A beautiful Hollyhock peeking in the window



A Niangua River scene

Chief Lone Eagle, last free Osage on a high ridge, Niangua.

The painting is much larger

Spring and summer offers many things to do outside along with mowing and a bit of gardening and traveling here and there. After much thought we hired a tree trimming outfit to take out a few of our precious trees, for they were leaning and hovering over the house much to close. It had to be done. Heidi is doing quite well and is losing her winter coat, with the help of a brush. She is much diffrent than she was when she first came here to make it her home. She is a beautiful creature quite content in a large fence yard with a house of her own. She loves to walk with me along the the roads out of town and looks for grub worms to eat.Yesterday  I saw a fellow coming toward the house. He was stranger or so it appeared for he wore a long gray beard. When he approached me within speaking distance, I spoke as did he and  he kept moving toward me. When at last he was close I saw beneath the beard a friend I hadn't seen for at least forty years. It was a great moment for the both of us and we spent the next few hours talking and catching up with our lives. We have made plans to float a portion of the Niangua River in the autumn. It will be a two day journey and camping for one night. I truly appreciate those friends of mine who now and then after many years come to see me. I do hope someday, Two Lanterns will once again come to visit. I have no idea where he is and I have been unable to locate the rascal. My next posting on this blog will contain the contiuation of the Foot prints into the Dawn of Prehistory. It has been several months since the last episode. This spring has brought the holly hock more beautiful than they have been for years. A couple of them have grown to over eight foot in height. I have finish two paintings since last time I posted. Adios

Butcher Redoak

A thunder storm with a lot of lightening and rain has gone its way. I sat with Heidi on the back porch while it was passing. At one point she seemed a bit concerned about the hail that briefly fell. We shared a penut butter sndwhich. I have been busy with work around the place and I think I am about to catch up. I did finish a small painting. I have by looking everywhere at swap meets for ammo for my Webly & Scott 38. It takes 38 S&W, a bit hard to find, but I now have 4 hundred rounds and will buy another hundred rounds. I'll will have enough then to have the cases reloaded. The seventy year old piece is my favorite. It is quick and very accurate. One of the first handguns I owned was a Webley 45.Adios.

                                                                 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

Reality # 0ne

One part of someone's home

A Webley Scott mark 4, 38 revolver

Feb. 29 a little after midnight brought a strorm that came very close to us. I stood on the front porch looking south and shuddered at the sight and sounds within the darkness. A tornado warning had been issued for our area and when I came back inside I was certain we were in for a dreadful night. I went back outside once more and saw the storm overhead and to the east of us and breathed a sigh of relief. This storm had already tore up a trailer park about twenty miles from us and killed one person. We later found a large piece of debris from a moble home trailer in our back yard and one other smaller piece. From that point on the news on T'V. was awesome with sights of complete destruction all around us and deep into the south. We humans are no more that objects to be crushed anytime by nature. Once again that is a humbling reality. On a lighter note I attended a gunshow nearby, with little intentions of buying anything. As I was nearing the last few remaing booths I saw an old friend, or least a relative of Webley Scott. Webley Scott is of course a English revolver and  to be exact a Mark 4, 38 caliber. I asked to see it and when I picked it up it was an old familiar sensation. For many years ago I owned one, a fine rugged handgun that the English are known for. The one I found at the gun show was a later model, 1940, but was near identicl to the one before of which was made about 1920. I did not hesitate and bought the old gun. It is in near perfect condition, possibly a warehouse item. I am very please to again to own a Webley. Adios.

It has been a beautiful day here in Windyville and I have been outside most of the morning. Above is my latest painting  and is of the Windyville store and how it may have appeared in 1935. Much has changed since then and no longer is it a thriving business, but rather a private home. Across the road from the store I placed a barber shop, which no longer exists and behind the store stands the canning factory and still remains. The other building is another store and it is standing at present, but in dire need of repair. I enjoyed creating the painting. It is my way of looking back. Adios.

Snow Day in the Ozarks

From near and far they cme to Feed

A beautiful tranformation to the the town

Misty and Butterfly

Yesterday was a beautiful sight with snow steadily falling, but the amount that quietly settled to the ground was only about 2 inches. Not bad, perhaps no more for the winter. The bird feeders were full of redbirds crowding in to get a bite or two.  The cedar trees are awakening, their scent is strong and I can see many other plants begining to stir. A rather large flock of geese passed over town a couple of days ago, heading north. When Lady Spring appears I will be the first to welcome the lovely sight of her. I have enjoyed most of the winter, devoting most of the time to my painting and writing some also. A very good and trusted friend passed away this week and is a somber note to this day and others to come. Adios.

Perhaps a bit to serious hat

A bit of a show off hat

A friendly hat

I welcome me back to South Through Bare Foot Pass and appreciate anyone who may be glad that I am here. I was told I had failed to update certian aspects of my computer and it would not respond to me. It is very cold here in the Ozarks this morning and will be even colder tonight. But overall we are haveing a rather mild winter, at least up to the present. Snow is coming tomorrow, so we may face some nasty weather. A lot has happened to me since last I posted, nothing too negative however. I have fallen from grace with a board of directors, of whom I did not approve of their underhanded tactics.

Black and white hats and all other colors in-between



The following is an unofficial study of hats or perhaps an observation. I love western hats, especially Stetsons, Beavers and Baileys. Each style that I have represents eras long since past, from the early days of this country to the present. The present styles are not to my liking. I have, some might say too many hats, but the amount in my opinion is not relevant. One of my observations is when I wear a black hat; people don’t seem to be as friendly as they are when I am wearing a white hat. Other shades of color, such as grays and browns make little difference. Many men wear black hats and I wonder why. Perhaps it is a macho thing, but I really don’t know. In the movies, at least the older productions put white hats on the good guys and black hats on the bad guys. Of course this theory isn’t true, for I know many upstanding men and women who where black hats. For me a black hat, I have only one, they are hot in the summer months and collect, more dust, or at least shows it more clearly. I am more at ease wearing a light colored hat or a gray or brown. Most important my hat must be able to withstand the rain, time and again and look as good as it did before getting drenched. It is evident to me this study or observation may be unimportant to most people but I thought it interesting. Adios.