Nights are getting colder again

No doubt that we have been lucky.  We were at the above location a scant month ago before the Quitfire situation which found us relocated about 170 miles West of Corizzo Springs.  In fact we arrived in a very heavy thunderstorm last July.  Nothing like what occurred yesterday however, when they received  13 inches in a matter of hours.  Where we were perched we likely would not have been in any danger to speak of however we most certainly would have been stranded, unable to move in either direction more than a quarter mile or so.

I guess according to the papers Corrizo Springs looked like this today

With Austin, another location we have spent several weeks with Carl and Loris coming in a close first or second as we just heard . .  As I said, to date we have been lucky, however a rather large front coming from Mexico is supposed to hit tomorrow with heavy rainfall again.  I thought I had been in heavy rain before coming from Idaho so it is difficult to find the words to describe the difference.  Just that fully exposed to the weather, one can expect to be soaked to the skin after walking about six feet.



So here we are about sixty miles South of San Antonio

A little closer overhead view that looks quite different now

While there are several other Gate Guards stationed within several miles of us, one tends to feel quite isolated sometimes.  The Ranch Owner lives about a mile from our locaton.

But it is business as usual.  And while it may not look it, we are quite comfortable living out here in our little 21 ft trailer.  While I don't talk about it much, there tends to be a lot of upkeep associated with living like this.  For instance recently having to get back on the roof to unclog vents in the air conditioner for the condensation to collect on the roof rather that overflowing inside the trailer.  Another little item that just paid for itself is the $75.00 breaker between the Diesel Generator and the trailer.  Last night in the midst of a heavy downpour the Gen surged and the breaker did it's job.  Somehow tripping the GFCI inside the trailer. No telling the damage that could have occurred to the Converter, Refrigerator etc.  Just little learning events that keep you going. I most certainly wish that Lisa and I had discovered this lifestyle a few years earlier.  Our current gate is a 12 hour gate, rare in their existence but a pleasure to man.  We work twelve hours and that's it.  Meaning a good nights sleep.  Furthermore, I continue to be impressed with the Texas hospitality and the quality of folks we work with.  For the last several mornings, a couple of the guys have been dropping breakfast biscuits on their way into the site.  We receive a dish at each catered meal and the company running into town for lunch almost always stops with a couple of plates for Lisa and myself.  This job may run a couple of weeks yet but there is no way to tell.  And if there is no more immediate work, well then it is back to the beach for more fishing.

Here is a link to a site of several other blogs that I was perusing last night.  Keeps me motivated and inspired.  Can't wait to get through the winter and get on the move again.    http://www.hitchitch.com/links.html



Finally Cousin Will posted this photo of Ken Henderson, his Father and my not so long ago deceased Uncle on his FB page here with a couple of his grandchildren. 

 Ken died not much older than myself and stands as a reminder of the short time we actually have. And I guess a point I made earlier that the best parts of life occur when you are not even aware of them.    Seeing this picture caused a lot of memories to wash over me of childhood summer camping trips in the beautiful pine forests of Island Park and the freezing Goose hunting forays that I went on with Ken, my father, my grandfather, other uncles and sometimes other relatives that I met only a few times. I remember the clothes they wore and the old pump shotguns.  The old goose decoys, a mix of paper mache and cardboard silhouette  decoys we set out. Huddled under white sheets in snow and frozen mud in any kind of gawdawful weather starting when I was about eleven on the Blackfoot reservoir.  (Of course then I was expected to fetch the duck).  I can remember the smell of my grandmother's kitchen on those early mornings as she always rose to cook breakfast.  Peppers and scrambled eggs and bacon.  Hated em then, love them now.  The hot chocolate in the thermos and the neverending back and forth bickering between my grandparents. More of the way they communicated than actual arguments.  Remembering the sound of both their voices.  My grandmother gone some thirty years and my grandfather over twenty.  I remember cleaning pheasants and ducks with Ken in the basement in the wash room next to the old roller type washing machine.  The bloody newspapers and feathers.  Subsequently watching early star trek episodes, (the original series in the sixties) with Ken, Cathy my older sister and younger siblings (who were really young then) on old tan fold down davenports, covered in the old scratchy design material. My grandfather's old blue beet truck filling the large picture window behind the television .  I remember Ken's bedroom upstairs with the old sports pennants covering the yellow painted walls.  A high school and college basketball star Ken replicated the globetrotter basketball spin easily.  I also remember the Saxaphone.  Nuff said. And later, during and just after high school late night talks between myself, Ken and my older sister around the campfire on one of the many aforementioned camping trips over forty years ago under a moonless sky lit up by the milky way as bright as any photograph could depict it. His infectious smile, like the one in the picture that covered his entire face.  I could go on.  Ken, an uncle was more like a cousin because there just wasn't that many years between us.  Ken was a strong figure I looked up to and was proud of.  The college athlete and pilot.  I remember Ken getting married and going to BYU. But for the most part I got along with my life and lost contact with Ken, only rarely seeing him with Sylvia and a passel of small children.  This past year it has been a delight to see that passel of kids, my cousins ,now adults. Finally, I learned of some of his successes as well as his challenges later in life.  Some I learned of long ago and some only recently.  I understand some of those challenges as like my own. But then all of these times I mention occurred decades ago I'm certainly no authority of later years. However,  I read in a FB posting that "few respected Ken" which left me scratching my head (metaphorically).    It  puzzles me that anyone would mention this posthumously.  I don't know the individual or what he is talking about, how he could post a comment like that,  nor do I really want that point explained to me. No matter what was said after that the real point of the comment has already been said. And I thought it shabby in the context.  In any event, if there is anything I learned as a Parole Officer is that misfortune can happen to any of us.  I just prefer to remember Ken as  the whole package.  I think he lived a full life from his beginnings in Blackfoot, to his life in Texas, Missouri and wherever else he lived. From being awarded Freshman player of the year as I recall at Idaho State University (the same ISU that beat UCLA in later years) to piloting a KC135 in the Air Force, to the many different occupations he explored. I guess from what I have seen so far, no matter what misfortunes might have occurred, I'm sure he had regrets, we all do, but Ken left a pretty impressive legacy in his children.  A pretty impressive bunch.  And to Ken, I haven't given up on paying my respects, just I will endevour to get to the right cemetary next time. Rest in Peace Uncle Ken.