It's Friday, but Sunday's Comin'

One of my favorites of all time...

We're Grandparents! (Sorta)

The baby ducks have hatched!

And James, like any proud grandpa, has been taking copious videos of them...this is from when the momma and her brood of 12 came home from their first swim...

Anyway, I can't wait till next weekend, when hopefully Joe, Aidan and I will all go down for the weekend. I can't wait to see my little grandbabies. Lol. Unlike kittens, I love little ducks. When I was a kid, we had pet ducks several times. It was while sitting with my duckling in the grass when I was about one or two when I had the coral snake scare (it was gnawing on my toe).

James is coming this weekend, because we didn't get to see each other last weekend. We're gonna try and work some more on getting my house more organized. I worked a little on it during the week, but progress is slow.

I also wanted to take a minute to brag about James, and my friend, Matt Maisano (and his awesome wife, Maria). Matt has spent the last couple years putting his heart and soul into a beautiful documentary about Forrest Fenn's Thrill of the Chase, and after two years of effort, it has finally come into fruition and will debut at the Albuquerque Film Festival the day before Fennboree this year. I can't wait to see it!

Anyway, James and his young friend, Max, are featured in Fenn's Searchers. You can see the trailer of this well-made and inspirational film here.

For those of you who don't know Matt Maisano, you will. He's one of those genuinely good guys who  takes great pride in his hard work. He's based out of North Carolina, and he's worked at PBS. Just like Mr. Rogers! Here's a pic of Matt proclaiming his love for PBS (hope ya don't mind, Matt--I took it from your FB page):

And of course, part of what makes Matt a great guy is his best friend, wife, and co-worker, Maria. Maria doesn't like a lot of attention, but she deserves to be recognized. Her soul is so bright and friendly and beautiful, you can't help but be drawn to her (sorry guys, stole this one, too).

Anyway, I think this is a great achievement for all involved. Besides James and Max, Cynthia, David Rice (aka Desertphile), and Sacha will also be featured in the movie.

I also got word from the Shannon Riggs, the producer working on the project James and I are a part of. Like all of these well-made documentaries, they take time, and ours is still very much in the works. Shannon is also hoping to attend Fennboree this year!

Okay, since I woke up late this morning, I've gotta cut this short...more to come this weekend if I get a chance. I want to tell you about an unspoken tragedy in Palo Duro...

Hope for Tomorrow

I'm not feeling well today...I think I'm finally getting the flu going around, despite having gotten a flu shot. I was awake most of the night, but I'm up now, and will head in to work, and maybe work in the back office in case I'm contagious.

Luckily I had this blog already written, so it's an easy post.

A Native Folk Tale, Tribe Unknown (at least I couldn't find it in a brief search)

Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel. All claimed that they were the best. The most important. The most useful. The favorite.

Green said: "Clearly, I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was chosen for the grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."

Blue interrupted: "You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea. The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be nothing."

Yellow chuckled: "You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety and warmth into the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no fun."

Orange started next to blow her trumpet: "I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes and papayas. I don't hang around all the time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking that no one gives another thought to any of you."

Red could not stand it any longer, he shouted out: "I am the ruler of all you. I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the Color of passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."

Purple rose up to his full height: He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."

Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."

As so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling become louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightning, thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.

In the midst of the clamor, Rain began to speak: "You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me."

Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined hands.

The Rain continued: "From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow."

And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a Rainbow appears in the sky, let us remember to appreciate one another.

And as always, be kind to one another...

But not the kitten. No one needs a kitten. 

Was gonna...

I was going to post today about Forrest's SB yesterday (176), but I realized that I had read just a few sources of information about the guy he was referring to--Dr. Gene Scott. Whether he was a good guy or a bad guy, he was ostracized by the media, who "swooped and pooped," minimizing the good he'd done, and blowing wide the bad across the headlines. And it's obvious the man was aware of this. Even Trump, as much as I can't stand the guy, realizes this. The media loves to find the dirt, and ignore the gold. Anyway, I had never heard of Dr. Scott before, so how can I really, truly know?

I wanted to say Quanah Parker was a great guy too, despite the bad things he did. His wife must have been treated kindly, because she hated returning to her white "home," so much that she died of a broken heart. But all I know about Quanah Parker is that he had allegedly done some bad stuff, and he had done some good stuff. History was kind to Quanah, and for some reason, he seemed to be fairly and kindly treated by the media and history writers. Maybe he was a rare kind of guy--a true legend.

But everyone, including legends, make mistakes. As Romans 3:10-18 says:

“There is no one righteous, not even one;

11there is no one who understands;

there is no one who seeks God.

12All have turned away,

they have together become worthless;

there is no one who does good,

not even one.”^b

13“Their throats are open graves;

their tongues practice deceit.”^c

“The poison of vipers is on their lips.”^d

14“Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.”^e

15“Their feet are swift to shed blood;

16ruin and misery mark their ways,

17and the way of peace they do not know.”^f

18“There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

That verse refers to all. None of us are good in ourselves. How then, can anyone call themselves a Christian? How then, can any one of us judge another? Who alone knows the heart of man? Only God. And Dr. Gene Scott seemed to know that. A little further in Romans 3: 

22This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, 23for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. 25God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement,ⁱ through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished— 26he did it to demonstrate his righteousness at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus.

A fitting verse for the approaching of Easter. 

So, the only thing keeping us from taking our last breath is Jesus. Without Him, we are nothing and can do nothing. And maybe Pam Shetron had a great deal of Forrest figured out. That maybe dying with over $50 is a failure and building your castle on fireproof sand is a reference to 1 Corinthians 3:12-15:

“Anyone who builds on that foundation may use a variety of materials—gold, silver, jewels, wood, hay, or straw. But on the judgment day, fire will reveal what kind of work each builder has done. The fire will show if a person’s work has any value. If the work survives, that builder will receive a reward. But if the work is burned up, the builder will suffer great loss. The builder will be saved, but like someone barely escaping through a wall of flames.” 

I don't proclaim to be perfect. I make mistakes. As Goofy pointed out, sometimes good people do bad things, and sometimes bad people do good things. Who are we to judge, when many times, the lines are blurred? Yes, we can judge people by their fruits, or actions. But in an online world, how can you accurately do that? The media gets many, many things totally wrong. I have gotten things wrong. You have gotten things wrong. 

The media jumps to shame with the negative, rather than highlight the good. How do we find out the truth? Maybe by striving to get to know a person, face to face? Maybe that's why Forrest hates the impersonal and emotionless (though not emoji-less) "texting machines." Maybe that's why Forrest pointed out that Gene Scott, face to face, was a likable guy. Peggy was intuitive, and Peggy was "the best person" Forrest ever met, and Peggy liked Dr. Scott, so that must say something about the guy. 

The point is, the world remembers Dr. Scott as his television personality, not as the real man underneath, who in reality, wore a "thread-bare cashmere sweater." It's these subtleties we should look for in Forrest's writing to get a glimpse at what he may be trying to convey.

Anyway, it looks like this post is turning into an admittedly biased analysis of SB 176. I don't know what Forrest was trying to get across--I can't know, unless he comes out and says, "This is what I wanted to convey with SB 176..." and then tells us. 

What I wanted to post about was my weird dream. Lol. I dreamed that James and I and some of James's friends from Seattle (that I have never met), were at this huge convention center type place, and we were there for a Tesla convention of some sort, and that James had a new Tesla parked in the middle of the "showroom." I think this part of the dream came because I'd learned yesterday that Tesla is now the #1 car manufacturer in the US, surpassing GM. 

Anyway, then some other stuff happened that I've forgotten, and then it wasn't a Tesla convention anymore, although James's car, and a couple other Teslas, was still parked there. 

It was like this "sheathing of the swords" ceremony, where we all had swords and were walking in a Viking-style ceremonial line, sheathing our swords in a symbolic heralding of a time of peace. I was the only girl, and at the end of the line. As I was approaching the sheath, the wind started to pick up, making the flames from the torches lit around the procession nearly invisible. I sheathed my sword, and a gust of wind blew, and the fires seemed to go out. 

But really, they'd just blown invisible, and had blown toward a very dry kind of tall grass in a vacant lot nearby (we were now outside), and the grass immediately caught fire, and started to spread toward us at an alarming speed. I yelled for everyone to run. James headed for his car, which was in the path of the wildfire, and the wildfire was almost upon it. James would've never survived getting it out of there, so I yelled at him to forget it, and we ran. Instead of running to immediate safety, a few of us ran to a nearby college and warned everyone to get out, and they listened and started to file out of the classrooms as great big ashes started to fall from the sky like charcoal snow. 

We were safe, but only by a hair.

And then I woke up. 

And I just realized how very much like my dream that verse from Corinthians is...and on the news this morning I just saw that Florida is in a state of emergency from brush fires...that's kinda eerie.

Oh...side note...white is the color that represents Blanca Peak, in the Navajo culture. A connection  to SB 175...

Go Diggin'!

A lot of people think Forrest's recent SB (175) was a shout out to Diggin' Gypsy, because how can we forget the SB of John Wayne, Diggin's formidable rooster (RIP)?

And Diggin' has a solve, and I think it's pretty solid, although she hasn't told me the specifics yet, and I haven't asked. She has told me where to look, but I haven't had the chance yet. I hope she gets that chest! If anyone deserves it, she does! Go get it, my friend, and don't let anyone or anything stop you!

Speaking of roosters, though, I did spend a few minutes researching various things relating to yesterday's SB. First, I wanted to Google "70 pound rooster." That seems like a really over the top heavy piece of cast iron. The first result hit the exact weight, but wrong species. I got a pic of these happy guys with this monstrous 70 pound rooster...fish.

I also got this sorta cool pic of a ferocious looking "Rex Goliath," a 47 pound grouch that might eat kittens like Skittles--just popping them in that savage beak, one by one. I should get me a Rex Goliath. He's royal, by the way (H.R.M. = His Royal Majesty), and "Rex" means "king."

Then, I googled "Cast iron 20th century Spanish rooster," and could not find a single one. I did, however, find a couple French ones that looked very similar to Forrest's. And I found one on Ebay, but this rooster has been sold.

I thought the description of this rooster was interesting...

Circa 1900 Cast Iron Rooster Doorstop. It had 3 screws along the side to hold it together. They were removed and filled in, and the seam was welded and ground down. Very well done, I might add. No disrespect to anyone, but they were not as nice as this one. Has its original patina. He stands 22″ tall and approximately 10″ at the base, and he weighs a hefty 30 lbs. The item “Antique Large Heavy Cast Iron Rooster Doorstop Chicken Door Stop Folk Art Statue” is in sale since Saturday, May 28, 2016. 

So, Forrest's rooster is "almost 2' tall" (probably the same height as the roosters pictured) and a full 40 pounds heavier! Wow! I wonder what kind of iron would have that kind of mass to be so much heavier than these similar ones?

Anyway, here's another that looks very similar. This one sold for a whopping $2400!

And here's Forrest's rooster, by comparison:

So, not exact, but similar. It's interesting that Forrest says, "They’re probably 20th century Spanish or from over there someplace."

Spain borders France, and everyone knows French animals speak a different language than American animals. French roosters don't say "cock-a-doodle-doo," they say "Cocorico."

But maybe Forrest meant Spain when he said Spain, because Spanish roosters say, "Quiquiriqui!" (By the way, I have to apologize for a mistake I made on Dal's--I think I said the French rooster said, "Quiquiriqui," but I meant Spanish.) Some websites say Spanish rooster talk is "Kikiriki."

So maybe it's a shout out to Ricky, or maybe a hint to the Quiriva, or maybe even Abiquiu. Who knows? The next SB should be interesting!

One thing I want to add: Jim and Joe Anna are both very talented artists! 

Here's an awesome painting in subtle brown hues of Mesa Verde:

And here's one of Mesa Verde by Joe Anna:

But, I've got a busy day at work, so I've gotta get in gear...

Mondays--Still the Worst

The weekend went by too fast. I didn't get everything I wanted to get done, done. I guess the problem was that I decided to pack books first. As I took each book off the shelf, I thought, "Oh, wait, I remember this one. Maybe I'll want to read it again before I move." So I place it to the side with the other ones I want to wait to pack. Soon, the stacks to keep out was larger than the ones to pack. So, I'd go through the process again, and I finally got the books packed away.

I took some outside pics for my landlord, and gave him a couple of inside pics, but I've got some decluttering to do and some baseboard cleaning and rug and tile cleaning before this house is ready to show. Then, there's still the problem of all my mom's stuff.

Aidan's trying to get packed up and moved in with a friend this week. She wants to move with us, but she wants cats without having to actually take care of them, so she'll move in with someone who'll take care of her cats for her. Lol.

Anyway, still LOTS of work to be done. I've got some time, though, which is good!

Forrest is releasing SB's like crazy. I liked the ones about Quanah Parker. Quanah was an interesting guy, even with his seven wives and brood of young uns.

I'm finding a lot of discreet references to two types of people that you might not think about when reading the stories casually. Peta Nocona, Quanah's dad, was born into a tribe known as "The Wanderers."

"The Wanderers" kidnapped Cynthia Ann Parker, thus provoking "The Searcher's" to take up the chase to find her. A movie of the same name was made with John Wayne depicting this search, but using different names, and probably highly fictionalized.

So we have wanderers and searchers. In my mind, there are two kinds of wanderers-- the intense wanderers are those that go on search after search after search spending wads of cash, wandering willy nilly, and almost frantically in vague spots. Then there are the happy wanderers-- those that are excited to get out into the mountains, sunshine, and fresh air, and they may have several search areas, too, but their main goal is fun, not necessarily fortune. However, one secret they discover is that fortune is not always monetary, and fortune and fun often go hand in hand.

We also are hearing stories of the good guys and the bad guys. Quanah played both in his lifetime. But "good" and "bad" are often a matter of perspective. Reading the accounts of Quanah by his descendants, they revered him as being always "good." He fought only when his ancestral home and family were threatened.

However, Quanah was undoubtedly fierce and merciless when it came to war with the white man. As I and Forrest related on Dal's, Private Gregg was shot and killed at nearly point blank range when his horse faltered and Quanah galloped by. I think it's pretty cool for Forrest and his friend, Bill Griggs (maybe a relative of the fallen Gregg?), searched for the trooper's grave.

I did a quick search online for a picture of Private Gregg, but couldn't find one. That says something, huh?

So the young soldier had a story, too, but we don't know much of it. He undoubtedly was a young man filled with patriotism and a love of the country he also called home.

Forrest said he wished he could have thrown a rock at Quanah as he sped by on his black pony (pony may be another hint to Quanah's actual height of "around six feet"). My first thought was that it was a hint for the "lead horse" in the chase to slow down a little and notice the tidbits of useful info F was throwing out.

But maybe, it was simply because he wanted Quanah to stop and see the young soldier lying dead on the ground. Maybe, if Quanah had paused long enough to see the young man's blood seeping into the hungry soil, his heart would have broken and in that instant of epiphany, he would have seen that killing the "enemy" might not have been the best way. Maybe Quanah would have seen something in the young man that resembled one of his own sons.

I don't know, but I can certainly imagine that the distraction caused by Forrest's rock may have been enough to prevent more senseless killing.

Or maybe Forrest was hinting that killing everyone that stands in your way may be one way to win a race, but it certainly isn't the right way, the best way, or the most honorable way.

It's amazing to me that this beautiful canyon hold such dark secrets:

Is it possible for both men, fighting on opposite sides, to be heroes? And not just heroes on one side of the fence, but heroes we all can recognize? Yeah, I think it is. Maybe that's why Forrest often wonders why we just can't leave each other alone.

Sometimes our "enemy" is someone fighting for what they hold dear, and their cause is as just as ours. Sometimes "friend" and "enemy" are often blurred as the edges merge.

One thing I like about the story of Quanah Parker is that he overcame the prejudice and strove for peace. Rather than seeing his race annihilated, he sacrificed himself, realizing that his people could live on, and that he could make sure they weren't forgotten, as they surely as Private Gregg was when his death came too soon. He learned to read and write, and used the peace he helped usher in to be an advocate for his people.

As a side note, if this photo is any indication, I don't think Quanah was 7' tall, as Forrest stated. I believe Forrest was providing us a metaphor for Quanah's larger than life legendary status.

The government eventually built QP a house. It has eight stars on the roof, and was appropriately named "The Star House." One relative said it was a "visual manifestation to far and wide that proclaimed 'The general lives here.'"

And when Quanah passed away in 1911, one of his daughters, Neda, wrote his epitaph, which echo the Native American way of life Quanah personified:

“Quanah Parker, last chief of the Comanches,

resting here till the day breaks, the shadows fall and

the darkness disappears.

What a subtly beautiful and lyrical tribute to a man who strove to be the leader his people needed, a protector of his ancestral home, and later, a symbol of peace for all people.

But let's also remember that Private Gregg is also just as an important symbol of why peace is important. 

This may not be Private Gregg, but it could be. 

Fridays...Still the Best

I'm happy it's Friday again! It's like they just keep coming every week! Lol.

It's been a long, hard week. I got almost nothing done at home because I worked late or had a doctor appointment every day.

And since I went to bed so late last night, I'm somewhat tired today, but not bad. I might take a power nap when I get home from work, but the way the schedule looks, it appears that I might be working a little late for a Friday.

So, now we have the momma cat, Tricky (aka Trick Daddy--I had changed his name to Trixie, but have since discovered he is indeed a boy), and Zuri Baby Princess Baby the Tolerable.

I have banished the momma and Tricky to my mom's old room until the house is sold or until Aidan moves out in an effort to keep the house cleaner. However, the momma has torn up all the carpet under the door trying to get out. Ugh.

This weekend I'm going to work on boxing things up and getting as much into the garage as possible. I want to be able to let potential buyers in by maybe next weekend.

I've also got a ton of stuff to list on eBay...I'll work on that this weekend. Mostly little stuff, but a few treasures, too.

And I have a couple other little tax-related tasks to finish, but I'm going to try and get those done today.

Anyway, lots to do and not enough time to do it, so I've gotta get moving!

May your weekend be ferociously magical!