Showing posts with label small town life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label small town life. Show all posts

Sunday, January 10, 2010

A New Year-A New Decade


New Years Day at Toot's
ink
ink/watercolor
8.5 " x 11"
I don't know anyone who really celebrated New Years Day in Calvert, when I was growing up. A lot of people did eat their black eyed peas and cornbread and watch a football game or two on tv
but that didn't seem like a big celebration, to me. I just tried to avoid anyone who was eating vegetables that day and just hung around the house.
Most people went to bed after the news, or, perhaps stayed up to watch Dick Clark or listen to the famous orchestra playing "Auld Lang Syne" when we got tv. But, then it was off to sleep. There was no champagne toasts or revelry. Someone on the outskirts of town might set off firecrackers and start dogs in town barking. And, the Briggs went outside at midnight and rang the large old school bell that was in their yard. After that, we knew that it was the new year, and fell back to a deep sleep.
The only person I knew who seemed to really work at having a traditional New Years Day was Toot. She and Honey lived across the street from us, and I spent a lot of time there-practically a second home.
Honey got up every morning, except Sunday, at 4 a.m. and drove to Waco for fresh produce for his grocery store in Calvert. And Toot got up before him, to have a nice breakfast ready for him.
On New Years Day, I guess he must have still gone to the store because he wasn't there, just like any other week day.
After the breakfast dishes were done, Toot set about cooking her special New Years dinner (the noon meal in Texas). Black eyed peas were bubbling on the stove, and cornbread was in the oven. Toot didn't eat very much because she had had part of her stomach removed when she was middle aged, and, I think, she wanted to stay trim and attractive for Honey. There might be left-over Sunday roast, sometimes turned into hash, and bread pudding. And, of course, a glass of water and a cup of coffee from the percolator.
As the parades started on tv, Toot would go into the hall closet and get out one of her card tables. She took that into the everyday sitting room, or den, and set it up in the middle of the room, near the tv.
She put a bridge cloth on the table, added napkins, and brought out every day china, silverware, and glassware from the kitchen. She put the chair from the Secretary on one side of the table, and a small chair from beside a window opposite it. As she carefully set the little table, she watched the Cotton Bowl and Rose Bowl Parades.
She really looked forward to the Rose Bowl Parade, especially. She made her trips out of the room really fast so she wouldn't miss any of the parades. She loved flowers and worked really hard in her yard. She was impressed with the use of flowers in the parade and seemed to dwell on every blossom and seed.
At dinner time, Honey came home and dutifully ate, silently, at the card table, while Toot was intent on watching the parade.
Dinner over and dishes done, Toot put away the card table and took a short nap. Dress came off and she slept in her slip on a quilt on the floor where the card table had been.
When I was there, I went in and out, hoping to go be with my friends. But, Toot would bring out the stool from the dressing table in the guest bedroom, "for the kids", and place it at the card table. There was a second stool, in case my little sister came over, or if any other company would show up.
Sometimes Irvin or Daddy would drop by and have a taste of dessert.
Toot would spend the afternoon with callers who might drop by, or reading magazines, or darning socks.
For supper, there was left overs and tv, with Honey going to bed early.
For me, I was just looking forward, anxiously, to the next day-my birthday!
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In the drawing above, I started by drawing the room in pencil, then I went over it with Micron and Pitt pens. Then I added Toot, so you can see a line through her ! Later, I used Winsor Newton watercolors to add a little color. I think I like it better in pen!
This is in a Reflexions 8.5" x 11" sketch book.
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I tried to show the corner of the every day sitting room, the den, where the tv was located. The candy jar with peppermint candy is on top of the set. Above the set is the little shelf that Toot had made into the wall where she put an electric clock and a few knick knacks.
The room was basically done in browns.
The wide window on the east side showed the shrubs and lawn beyond the porch, the empty lot and street, just in front of the school. You can see the gym, parking lot , and north end of the school. The window on the south side showed an empty field that filled with Indian Paintbrushes in the spring-until some people bought the lots and built homes there in more recent years. You can see the house where the Nash family lived on the corner on the next street, and the house where Doris Johnson lived next to it. The roof of the Lange house is just beyond the trees.
Mud Creek Mountains are the trees that rise on the horizon. Weekly, we could see smoke from the trash being burned at the garbage dump at the edge of town, just over the trees.
Toot's house was rather interesting. Her father had it built just behind his house on Railroad Street as a wedding present when she married in 1913. It was a prefab house, built by Sears. He completely furnished the house for the newlyweds, except for the kitchen. He insisted that the couple have all their meals with him!
There were 3 large cotton gins downtown, that put out a great deal of lint, etc. during ginning time. The stuff floated everywhere and filled almost every window screen in town. People had to frequently hose or sweep down the screens and, the closer you were to town, the more often the screens, and everything else, had to be cleaned. It wasn't as bad toward the school, far away from the gin, but, the closer you were to town, the worse it was. I guess that the wind direction didn't help, either.
Toot suffered terribly with sinus trouble. The doctor even prescribed "medicated" cigarettes for her, but nothing worked. He finally unpacked her sinuses that were filled with cotton lint.
In 1939, her father died. Honey bought lots near the school, and their cottage was moved in 1940, on logs, pulled by oxen, to the new location in front of the school.
Toot still suffered from sinus trouble and allergies, as a lot of people did, but, at least, they were further away from the cotton gins.
The house still stands, although changed somewhat from when Toot lived there. She is probably not very happy that her beloved flowers and magnolia trees are all gone.
It was a special place.
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Friday, July 24, 2009

Sunbathing In The Victory Garden

Sunbathing in the Victory Garden
8.5" x 11"
ink
I started this one in my sketchbook while I was on the deck, taking my morning sun.
I didn't know that one could be "low" in Vitamin D, especially at my age. Well, I never really thought about it. I assumed that, after all those sunburns and water blisters, when I was growing up and trying to get a good tan, I had enough Vitamin D to last me forever. Besides, it is in things like milk, these days.
My doctor told me that I was extremely low in vitamin D, so I got some more pills and was told to get at least 15 minutes of sun on my arms a day.
I remembered all those sunbaths we used to take, and how, in recent years, we have avoided sun due to the possibility of sunburns and things like skin cancer. My latest idea was to go out on the deck, in the morning, before it gets so hot, and take a little sunbath.
I thought that, instead of just getting sun on my arms, I would put on my shorts and sit on the deck, soaking up rays, on my pale legs, as well as my arms. I've been taking my lawn chair, a stool, a bottle of water, sunglasses, floppy hat and sunglasses, sketching materials and watercolors out on the deck. I would think it would be nice to sip coffee out there, but I'm not a coffee drinker, so I left that off.
After I take my sunbath, I go for a little walk. That is supposed to be from 15 to 30 minutes. It was taking me 15 minutes to get to the corner. Now, it is taking about 10 minutes, so I have to look at walking further. I think about walking in the evenings, but it has been either too hot, or storming, almost every night.
I try to go out before the temperature hits 90 degrees and, then, wait until it cools down below 90 in the evenings. Of course, lately, it seems that, instead of cooling down after 4 p.m., it gets hotter after that time, and doesn't cool down until really late at night. Or we have had a couple of thunderstorms at that time.
One morning, I was remembering when I would go out in our back yard in Calvert to sunbathe. I would put a quilt down near the Victory Garden and take a bottle of baby oil, that might have a little iodine in it, for a better tan. So, this is the sketch above.
With people still trying to recover from the Depression, and all of us worried about the War, a lot of people in town planted a garden-a Victory Garden. Daddy had a man come plow up part of the back yard, and I got to plant and tend to the garden. I thought we should have one!
I had carrots and radishes on the north end of the garden, potatoes just south of those, and, further to the south, I planted watermelons, corn and tomatoes.
The land slanted to the south, so water ran down to the lower south side and often left a big puddle there. Nothing I planted there came up, but I did have some tiny potatoes, carrots, and radishes, and some tiny watermelons. It wouldn't have fed us, if we needed it, for sure. I think we only tried the Victory Garden for a couple of years. It was a lot of work. And, of course, during years of drought, nothing much was growing. It would have been a waste to water it.
Now, across the street, "Toot" always had a garden going beside her garage. She worked in her yard a lot, and it showed.
Besides the garden, in my picture, you can see the garage, with the horse pen, and a shed Daddy built to house the truck he built. Also there is a three tier cage where Mama had some chickens. Daddy bought her some baby chicks to raise, and they were so cute. However, when the chickens were big enough to eat, Mama took one out and tried to kill it. It wouldn't die. Mama ended up in tears after trying to wring its neck with her hands, then wire from the clothesline. Daddy told her to get a hatchet and cut its head off. She just looked at the chicken and cried. She could not kill that chicken. So, she opened the doors to the cages, and shooed the chickens away from our yard.
Daddy had us all trying to catch chickens, all over the neighborhoood, when he got home. He was not happy!
Of course, we didn't catch any chickens. If we saw one, we would shoo it the other way. We didn't want to kill those chickens either.
For years, there were white chickens roaming around the neighborhood.
Another feature in our back yard were some posts that Daddy put up for a swing for us. He painted those white. We preferred to play on the swings at the school, just 1/2 block away. Those were some nice metal ones, that we grew up with.
We couldn't put a quilt down on the ground to sunbathe today. Fire ants would put a quick stop to that!
Today, I had blood drawn. I guess I will soon know if my sunbathing and pills have helped. I wonder if I will have to continue my routine, or if I can go back to being an indoor person.
It is kind of nice to go out and sketch. I don't care much for walking. It's kind of boring, and tiring. If it weren't for a pasture where I can see changing clouds, it would be really boring to just walk down the street.
Oh, well. I've been thinking that I am lucky to be able to walk anywhere at all. Boring or not.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Ladies Department in Conitz Dry Goods Store















Selling Underwear
in Conitz Dry Goods Store
Calvert, Texas
8.5" x 11"
pencil


The Every Day Matters Challenge #210 was to draw underwear.

I tried to think of some interesting underwear to draw, and then I remembered the panty counter at grandpa's dry goods store. All those stacks of panties! I wasn't sure I wanted to draw that and then I thought of drawing someone selling the underwear. I moved my clerk (probably "Toot") over to the bra and girdle display. And I remembered a long talk I had with a customer whose doctor had told her to wear a girdle to help her back. I thought of those miserable, hard to get into girdles of the time, and thought how hard it was for me to get one of those things on. And I thought this poor woman would have a battle to get into one of those tight undergarments. And I wondered if one might help the back trouble I was having. I wasn't willing to struggle with a girdle every day, and suffer through the heat rash and raw skin that those things always caused me.
But, I showed her what we had and talked to her about a lot of different things. I think she bought one that didn't seem so hard to get into, and she paid for it with money wadded up in her handkerchief.
In my picture, I gave the customer a friend. One who enjoyed her dip of snuff as she listened.
My little sister is shown by the counter where we measured fabric. That counter also held a display of ladies handkerchiefs and children's socks. Behind the counter were shelves with boxes of stockings and socks. On top of the shelves, there were rolls of cotton batting used for making quilts.
Barbara liked to wear boys' clothes and play with boys' toys. In this drawing, I showed her dressed in overalls with a striped polo shirt. She has a toy truck in her hand. But, she wasn't just playing with the truck. She was working! Her first job was to watch for shop lifters when the grown ups got busy waiting on customers. Mama worried about her possibly hitting her head on the corners of the counter, as she tried to run around in the store.
In the picture, I am sitting on the floor of the show window. The big plate glass windows gave an excellent view of Main Street, the picture show, and traffic passing by. I liked to get in the show windows and look out, and play with some of the merchandise-like hats! I was put to work doing things like stringing handkerchiefs and putting pin tickets on merchandise, sweeping, straightening, and waiting on customers.
As I draw, these memories and details come to me. It's similar to the mapping exercise that I have written about previously.
We had the basic kind of things in the store. For the fancy things like Merry Widows and petticoats, ladies had to go to Hazel's, or Sue's, or to Bryan, Marlin, or Waco, to the big department stores.
In the front, there was a display case, like those on the tv program, "Are You Being Served", that held things like slips, gift items, and boxes of better handkerchiefs.
Underwear for the older ladies were kept in boxes under the counter with the towels and bath items, and tablecloths. I was told that the older women would not want people to see what kind of underwear they wore. Snuggies, teddies, cotton slips and stockings in orange, pink or nude (beige).
I hope that you have enjoyed reading about selling underwear in the dry goods store!
For those of you who are familiar with Conitz Dry Goods Store, and you are old enough, you might remember the last time that the store burned. That was February 1, 1951. I'm adding a couple of photos. One of the store before it burned, one while it was still burning. And there is another that shows the interior of the store after it was rebuilt.
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Jody Powers, owner of Zamykal Gourmet Kolaches in Calvert, sent word that the segment featuring her and her shop will be on tv this coming weekend, Feb. 21st. It will also be on some stations Sunday the 22nd, too. Look at your local tv guide for times.
Jody also sent me a couple of pictures that I will post here tomorrow.
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Saturday is the big Plein Aire Painting Workshop with Virginia Vaughan in Calvert. You can see pictures on my blog from the last workshop in October. For more information and a supply list, contact me! You can see more on Virginia's blog and website, http://www.vvaughan.blogspot.com and http://www.v-vaughan.com .
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Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Dr. Parker's Office


Dr. Parker's Office
8" x 10"
pencil
During WWII, Dr. Taylor was called to serve in the U.S. Navy. Elderly Dr. Parker reopened his office on the second floor of the bank to take care of Calvert patients while Dr. Taylor was gone.

Dr. Wade had an office over what is now Larry's Place, next to Zamykal Gourmet Kolaches.
I always felt sorry for Dr. Wade's patients, in bad weather, having to climb outside stairs on the north side of the building, while Dr. Taylor, Dr. Parker, and the dentist, Dr. Cain, all shared an entrance on the south side of the bank building, with stairs inside the building. And, boy, did I dread climging those stairs!

Most of the time, we went to the doctors in Marlin, but, if we needed immediate care, we went to the doctor in Calvert. And, if we were really sick, of course, the doctor came to our house. (I remember when the doctors went up from $1 a visit, to $2. People just shook their heads and wondered how they would be able to afford those high prices!)
I remember that Dr. Parker's office was very old fashioned, with overstuffed, brown, leather furniture, like in the cowboy shows, in his waiting room. There was a big leather chair by the door to the examining room. A huge leather couch was on the opposite side of the entrance. I can't remember what was on the wall to the left. Maybe some straight chairs? (I was too scared to look around very much, and probably looked at my shoes or the floor, or my mother, more than noticing my surroundings.)The south windows were on the wall opposite the couch. To the left of the door to the examining room, there was a white enameled table with a sterilizer on top. A little fold out tray on one side of the top made extra space for the instruments. Closer to the windows, there was a dark wooden desk and chair. I believe it was a roll top desk, but I'm not sure about that.
Through the door beside the sterilizer, was the examining room, all white and glass. An eye chart was on one wall along with some framed diplomas. Perhaps there was a calendar on the wall, just inside the door.
I hated going to Dr. Parker, and all doctors, actually. But Dr. Parker's needles were old and bent, and looked a bit rusty, to me. They were sterilized and reused, in those days. The old needles were thick, as well as long. And they sure did hurt! Frequently, I was given injections of penicillan for sinus trouble, with those old fashioned syringes. I would faint when I saw one of those needles, after a few shots with those bent needles. Maybe that is why I hate shots so much, still!
I don't remember where Dr. Parker lived, or anything about him. He just seemed very old.
One of the Parker's, Denny, wrote a book about Calvert which has been reprinted.
There was a Parker who lived on the corner across from the entrance to the parking lot at the school. I don't know if this was the doctor, or maybe his son. I do remember this man wore khaki pants around home, and his cow was always getting loose and breaking down newly planted trees around the neighborhood. Mr. Parker would walk around, with a rope, find the cow, and take her home. But, it wasn't long before the cow found a way out of the fence, and another little tree or two to walk over.
Those offices, upstairs, seemed so "citified", to me.
Calvert was once a busy place, with about everything that a person would need. It was nice that way. Of course, some of us always wanted to go somewhere else, have more to choose from, more specialized doctors and services, so people saved up their ration books and stamps to travel, shop, and entertain.

The merchants didn't like for people to buy out of town, of course, but their wives, daughters, and neighbors looked forward to the outings. Something different.
I posted a painting of the bank, previously. This little sketch is part of what was upstairs. This was done with an HB pencil on white paper.

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Greta Watkins of the Frame Gallery in downtown Bryan is working on portraits for a show in downtown Bryan in June. More details later.

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I was so shocked this afternoon. The cable guy came to fix our cable which was making our new tv sets go off unexpectedly, or the remotes would not do anything. He fixed some things outside and inside. But, he replaced the cable boxes that we haven't had for very long. One overheatedand we thought it was about to catch on fire over the weekend.
But the thing that put me into shock was that, in replacing the boxes, I lost all the tv programs that I have been recording. Things I was saving to watch on a day when nothing else is on. All my cowboy shows, old movies, British comedies, and, worst of all, the painting programs from Houston PBS. I have trouble staying awake during the programs that start at 4 a.m., so I thought I was being so smart by recording them.
I should have watched those programs, because, now, they are gone! Oh, well. I guess I will start over.
And, a kind of funny thing happened tonight. I didn't notice, but the cable man must have replaced the remote in the den. I was watching tv, changing channels, and hit a wrong button. I didn't want to activate whatever it was that it told me to activate by pushing OK. So, to get out of it, I was going to hit Exit. To my distress, there was no longer an Exit button on the remote! I thought it must be my eyes and I just couldn't see it-a black button on a black remote, with tiny little white letters! I had to take the remote to my daughter, who was not happy that she had to come-again-to fix the tv for me!
But, it wasn't my eyes, after all. We had a different remote, that doesn't say Exit on it!
About the time that I figure these things out, they change!
I did learn about the changes that we have been hearing about over and over on tv. I wondered if all the channel numbers are going to change. I was happy to learn that the changes have already been made here! Yea! I hate when I can't find my station or programs that I normally watch! The tv guides are too small, and there is just too much there. So, I either have to look for new stations on a card, or just use the remote to flip through channels until I see something that I want to watch.
They need to make technology simpler instead of more complicated, with each new thing! I guess it's okay for kids and left brained people, but, the older I get, the more right brained I become.
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I guess it is about time to start looking for someone to do a rain dance. I heard on the news tonight about some local cattlemen starting to sell off some of their cattle because it is too dry. Grass they planted hasn't had enough rain to grow right, so they are having to feed, and that isn't working very well. I hope we are not in for another big drought.
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I went back into this and added a different image. The first one was done before I darkened some areas, so this one shows better. But, when I added the picture, my lines of text spread out! I did backspacing to tighten it up, but, now, I'm sure that I'll have a big space at the end, again. I still don't know how to fix that. So, just scroll on down.
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Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Protect and Celebrate

Protect and Celebrate
8.5" x 11"
ink and watercolor

It was about this time of day. 2001. I had a sore throat so I called in, early, for a substitute teacher to take my classes at school, and went back to bed. My tv was going, as usual, and I slept.
"Wake up and look at the tv!" my daughter turned on the light in the room. I tried to open my eyes, and look at the small screen. The morning news was on. I'm not an easy person to wake up.
"Look! They said that a small plane has crashed into one of those skyscrapers in New York," she told me. "It may have been lost, or gone off course, but it hit way up there."
I sat up in bed, watching a stream of smoke coming from the distant building.
"Now, they are saying that they think it might be a bigger plane," she came back in the room with updates, although I was watching.
She went back into her room, with plans to go back to sleep, now that her sons were off to school.
I got up and stood in front of the tv set, in order to see better, as a speck in the sky appeared and headed for the second of the twin towers.
"Are you watching!" I shouted into my daughter's bedroom. "There's another plane."
The rest of the day was spent, watching the events of that September day unfold on television.
In the days that followed, television sets were on, even at school, all tuned to the news. As a journalism and art teacher, I thought that this was important to watch. We wrote about it, we made cards to send, and we did art work as we watched. I felt bad that some people seemed to be apathetic and cold, lacked feelings of patriotism, or even concern for, not only other human beings, but also for our country. I hoped that maybe, inside, they were feeling something, and just thought it best to be unresponsive and go about their business as usual. Most people seemed to be in shock and expressed disbelief at what was happening.
I was involved with watching, as one after another events occured. I didn't think of doing art work or writing myself. I watched and directed others, encouraged them to express themselves and do what little we could at a distance. It was hard to write or draw about that time, as it was happening. Events kept happening and it was hard to make sense of or understand what was happening.
I thought that, if I had the money, and the freedom to do so, I should go to New York and help in some way. But, I had a job, and not enough money, and, of course, I didn't think of my age and the difficulties I was having with my knees as being more of a hinderance than help in most situations. So, we made cards, we watched, and we learned.
In our small town life, we didn't know much about cities, skyscrapers, or what was inside them. We thought it was quite an adventure to go on a field trip and ride an elevator to the second or third floor of a building. Our legs ached and we huffed and puffed, if we went somewhere and had to walk up several flights of stairs. Nothing in our home area was over 2 or 3 stories tall. But, we learned quite a bit about those amazing places in New York, and are still learning. We didn't know much about flying in an airplane, either. We saw them fly over, sometimes. And, occasionally, we could go to a small airport and watch small, but large, to us, planes land or take off. We all ran to the windows to watch when a Life Flight helicopter landed in the field near the school to transport patients to a larger hospital.
We had not thought of what went on inside buildings. We had just seen pictures of the exteriors. We had no idea that there were lower levels and even trains running underneath.
Such terrible things to see, though, as we watched from afar. I still wonder about the people and their stories. I don't think it is possible to know exactly how many people were involved and lost on that day.
We continued keeping the news channel on at school, in all rooms for a while. And, in my art/journalism room, for the rest of the year. More things kept occuring and we needed to know about them.
When the "Shock and Awe" operation occured, the principal spoke over the intercom and announced that this is something historic. Something we have never seen before, and, hopefully, will never see again in our lifetimes. And, we watched in silence as bombs fell and sirens screamed.
What would happen now that we were in another war? I remembered back to World War II. And I thought that we needed to prepare, and think of how life was then. Almost everyone was involved, and there was always the fear that we would be attacked. We sacrificed, we supported, and there was an all out effort to win.
I thought of the cold fear that hit me as I drove home from school late one afternoon. The announcement came over the radio that we were at war in Iraq. The first Iraq War with the first president Bush. What was going to happen next? What could I do to ensure the safety of my family and my students, and to help my country? My car was the only one on the highway at that time. I wondered if I was supposed to pull over to the side of the road and stop, or should I just keep driving. I chose to drive home and hug my grandchildren.
I had my students make cards to send to the people in service, especially those who were from our town, or those we knew. Some students didn't want to do any work at all, and made silly, rude cards. (Those were not sent.) I told them that, someday, they may be in service, away from home, and would be happy to get anything from home-even a little handmade card from a student in our little school. They didn't believe me. But, sure enough, eventually, many of those same kids came by, on leave, in their uniforms, and thanked us for the cards, and gave me a big hug. I was so glad for those hugs because it meant that they were home, safe. I covered my bulletin boards in the front of the room, with newspaper clippings and pictures from the local newspaper about our former students who were in service, and added notes that we received back, thanking us for the cards. That was a thrill, to know that someone was happy to communicate with us. We couldn't say a prayer at school, but we could do so in our hearts.
An American flag that had been carried in Iraq was given to our school and placed on the bulletin board across from the office. People gathered to look at that flag, in awe, and to look at the pictures of the medical group that had given us the flag.
And, then there was Korea, and, later, Viet Nam. The country seemed to become less involved with each war. I knew a few people of my age group, who went to Korea. But, I didn't really see them aftr they left. I worried that we were too complacent in this country. We were not prepared or aware. Some of the WWII vets that I knew, felt that the great war was behind us, they had done their part, and they were wanting to live the rest of their lives at home, in peace. That concerned me. Who would fight for us? And who was better prepared for that than the experienced veterans?
And, so, in something that was a bit like a "Little Rascals" or "Our Gang" movie, I started a children's army. If the adults weren't ready, we would be. But, that's another story.
During Viet Nam, I didn't know anyone who was in service. The only way we knew there was a war was in seeing the occasional train with Army tanks, trucks, and Jeeps, heading for Houston, and through the reporting on the evening news of people like Dan Rather. Pictures came into our living rooms as we were having supper. We heard stories of protestors, who burned their bras and draft cards, and that they were disrespectful to returning veterans. I didn't see any of that, except on television. Like others, I was busy with my children and work. Still, in the background, there was the concern that we wouldn't win, that Communists would take over the world, or would invade our country. As we worried about Russia and Communism, some people started soothing everyone by saying that it wasn't the Russians who would take over the world, but the real danger was from the "Yellow Race". They emphasized this by saying that it is in the Bible. I never saw it, but people who belonged to another church were insisting that it was true.
We still, today, have great concerns that our way of life and our freedoms are threatened. Some people seem to think that we don't have to be strong and fight for what we have. They appear to be saying that, if we just tend to our own business, and keep to ourselves, go about our little daily routines, the rest of the world will "play nice" and not bother us. It doesn't, unfortunately, work that way.
I don't intend to get political or preachy in my blog. But, this is a time to reflect, and each day, we can't help but think about our history and our future.
My picture today is a sketch that I started for July 4th. I had several things that I worked on with a patriotic theme that day. I had not finished this one, and decided to use another one, that day, showing the days when we had our morning opening ceremony at the flag pole at school. You can see that one in my Archives for July.
I thought that I should put something on my blog today, with thoughts of 9-11 and this country. I added some color (watercolors) to this drawing and decided to use it, instead of the one I had planned to use on my Macular Degeneration experience. I hope it shows a bit of patriotism, joy, strength, celebration, continuity, tradition, and rememberance.
This is another of my works that is in my cartoon style, a technique that I easily revert to when I just want to draw something .
Tomorrow, look for more art work on my experiences with Macular Degeneration. Thanks for looking at my work. I couldn't get online yesterday or last night to post anything, in case you missed a post from me yesterday. It seems to be working again today.
Today, I will listen to the news, paint, and remember.

Friday, June 29, 2007

Summertime

Summer Walk 8.5" x 11" ink

Horned toads, roadrunners, turtles, frogs, and other critters crossed the dirt road where this group of young girls walked. The smell of hot dust and dill weed filled the air. In those days, of innocent, long summers, all the kids went barefooted, unless they knew they would have to walk on pavement, or go somewhere that shoes and better clothes were required. A small group of girls gathered in town to walk past the three story school, with the tall chimney on top; across the wood and iron bridge over the dry creek bed; up the dry sand and clay road; past the dump ground and a couple of pastures, to an old house. There, three of the girls went inside to visit an older woman, while one, who didn't know the woman, remained by the gate, hoping that a snake or spider wouldn't appear. The girls walked, most of the time, in silence, occasionally breaking into their thoughts with whispers and giggles about boys, their hopes for the future, things they liked to eat, movies and movie stars, or about things that had happened at home. They didn't mention the woman. Walking to the house in the country and back was just something to do on a long summer day.

This is an ink sketch, depicting a time when friends, slowly walked out in the country to visit a woman. Back then, there were lots of horned toads and roadrunners and big red ants-all kind of wildlife to be found. That was long before fire ants came to this part of the country. There were a couple more girls in the group, but this seemed to be enough for my drawing. One curious, near-sighted girl is closely observing a turtle by the road. Two older girls walk together, sharing secrets. One girl hangs back a little, making sure there are no snakes ahead. You can see the school, which was Calvert High School, and a few rooftops above the trees back in the town.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Saturday Afternoon


Tickets Please 8.5" x 11" pencil
Saturday just doesn't feel like Saturday without a good, old cowboy movie to watch. It has to be one of those black and white "shoot 'em ups", where the hero is always the good guy. He has to have a wonderful, loyal horse and a sidekick, or even a small gang of good guys of his own (preferably a group that sings as they ride or sit around the campfire). They fight for right and freedom, but never just to be mean. And the heroine usually gets left behind with not so much as a kiss.
Growing up in Calvert, Texas, we had the Eloia Theatre on Main Street. It's still there, but is not used as a theatre anymore. Wide screens and tv ended their years of providing entertainment. After a fire, it was rebuilt with all the latest features including double wide seats at the end of every other row, and a cry room. You can't miss this theatre with its maroon tile with white paint .
This was a family operation with Miss Eloise (all women were called "Miss") working in the ticket booth . Her husband, Carl, sold popcorn, took tickets, as he is in my drawing, cleaned up, ran the projector, and still looked like he was very casual and not doing much of anything. Their son, Carl Jr., ran the projector and also sold popcorn. We thought he was so cute in his Aggie uniform selling popcorn, although we were much youger. He probably considered us pesky little kids!
The Eloia was named for Miss Eloise. I have shown her here in the ticket booth. She was so pale with a lot of powder, red lipstick, light blue eyes, and red hair softly curled. She always wore soft dresses or suits in pinks, lavenders, light green, colors that complimented her fair skin. I wondered if she might have once been an actress and had fallen in love with Carl, then settled in our small town. I don't really know their story.
As a child, I know that I probably looked at her with my mouth hanging open. I wondered if she were real. Her little booth reminded me of one of those gypsy fortune tellers that we saw in a little booth at the State Fair of Texas and Houston Fat Stock Show. Those gypsy ladies were not real, of course, but we wondered, as they moved their hand across cards, and seemed to look right at us. I was surprised when Miss Eloise would leave her booth and walk into the audience to watch for misbehaving children, budding romances, or people who were sitting through more than one show without paying .
Tim Holt was my hero and I would try to sit through every show when one of his movies was playing on a weekend, then pay to go back the next day. But, usually, Miss Eloise would let me sit through the second movie, if there weren't many people there. That 25 cents was hard to come by and I usually had to go from relative to relative, asking for a nickel until I had enough money. Sometimes I didn't get enough so I had to sadly watch people go into the show from the plate glass windows in my grandfather's dry goods store across the street. I didn't get an allowance, and, occasionally, they would let me work at the dry goods store. But, if I worked, I couldn't go to the show because I would be working on Saturday.
Everyone in town went to the Eloia. It was like a socail thing, and the town was like a big family. Today, family members might have their certain places to sit as they watch tv. Back then, it was like that as they sat in the everyday living room, to listen to the radio. And, the same applied when people went to the picture show, to church, or certain events. Everyone had their own place to sit. At the Eloia, little kids sat on the first couple of rows, and, as they grew older, they moved back. There was a rotund farmer, with great red cheeks, and a hearty laugh, who rode to town on his tractor. He would go to Miss Molly's hamburger place next door to my grandfather's dry goods store, and buy a small sack of hamburgers, which he would take to the show. He would sit on the double seat, on the first row, with all the little kids, eat his hamburgers, and have a great time at the show. They didn't sell drinks or snacks at the Eloia, just popcorn, and had a drinking fountain with cold water in the lobby. I think they said they put those double seats in just for Henry, the farmer, and thought he might choose other places to sit. But he stayed right up front with the kids.
I thought that, when I grew up and had lots of money, I would be sure to go to Miss Molly's, get a sack with maybe two dozen sissyburgers, and spend Saturday afternoon watching Tim Holt shows at the Eloia. But in the back row, not the front.
My parents always chose the back row, where Daddy would sit with his arm around Mama's shoulder. I usually sat in the middle rows, or where the kids my age were sitting. But, if I had a date, and after I married, we would sit in the back, on a side row-not in the center where my parents sat. My parents didn't go to the show so much after I grew up. Like everyone else, they were happy to stay at home, with tv dinners on a tv tray, and watch the shows there.
The picture show family had a beautiful home near Main Street. I was so surprised that they had a home! I, like a lot of kids, thought that people who we always saw at businesses, were always there. Just like teachers. We didn't realize that they were human beings, until we were older. We thought they lived at school, or their business, never ate or slept, drank or went to the bathroom, didn't have families, or a home.
In the front yard, just off the sidewalk, there was a fish pond with gold fish swimming around. For kids walking to town from school or home, stopping by the fish pond was about as good as a trip to the zoo. I think some kids dropped gum wrappers in the pond, so, if we were seen, one of the family would shoo us away. There was another fish pond in town, just like that one, so we had two places to watch the fish swim.
I went to the house at least one time, to see Miss Eloise. I was scared silly and hoped she wouldn't come to the door. I may have gone by to sell magazines or candy, but, I know this one time, I was intent on asking for one of the posters advertising a Tim Holt movie. I got to peek inside the leaded glass door, and I remember beautiful woodwork and hardwood floors in a wide room with gingerbread across an arch, and little wooden beads worked into the design. Miss Eloise told me that if she ever had an extra one that she didn't have to send back, she would save it for me.
I didn't get a poster, but I did have photo albums full of movie star pictures. All we had to do in those times was to write a fan letter to a star, and address it to Hollywood, California. Soon, we would have wonderful photos back, sometimes with a signature. Some started charging 25 cents as postage went up from 2 cents to mail an out of town letter.
The Chatmas Theatre in nearby Hearne got a widescreen when those became popular. Since the Eloia was new, they didn't want to have to make that investment, so they closed after a while. I still think that was one of the best theatres. I'm still not that wild about wide screens.
When I watch an old movie on tv, with the lights out, I can just go back to the Eloia. I can see my friends giggling and whispering secrets, Henry laughing, some kids helping the good guys with "gun noises", older couples holding hands, and the boys in our class making silly noises, like the Three Stooges. I can feel the cool we sought on a hot day in the dark theatre, the warmth in winter. Smell the popcorn from the colorful machine out in front. And wait for Miss Eloise or Carl, to walk the aisles. Maybe they are doing that still.
Cowboy shows, Tarzan, The Three Stooges, those type of movies are Saturday shows. Technicolor was for Sunday movies, and dramas, mysteries, the latest blockbusters or classics are weekday shows. That was the schedule, and I guess it was as ingrained in us as church on Sunday, washday on Monday, ironing on Tuesday, cleaning house on Wednesday, parties on Thursday, shopping or yardwork on Friday.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Hanging Out

The Drugstore 8.5" x 11" pencil

This is the drugstore on the corner by the red light in my hometown. One of our places to hang out, especially before or after an afternoon movie at the picture show. All ages went to the drugstore for treats, special purchases, and medicine.
The drugstore was a bit on the dark side, with dark woodwork, and a pressed tin ceiling, a mirror behind the soda fountain that looked like it came from an old western saloon. (It probably did, as there had been quite a few in town, in the olden days. And most grocery stores also had a bar in them, with one of those old fashioned mirrors and shelves for glasses, etc.) But, the big windows on the street and around the side let in enough light to make the place feel cozy and welcoming. Traffic watching was a big thing in town, too.
In this sketch, my good friend, Peggie, is working behind the soda fountain to prepare a special treat. A teenage boy is sipping his soda, served on the always cool marble counter. Peggie's sister, Sue, is behind the cosmetics and jewelry counter showing the latest perfume to a customer. Another customer is looking at beauty products on the lower shelf.
On the left side of the store, by the windows, at the wire with glass topped tables, people are sharing a Coke with two straws as we used to do. (Two or three people could enjoy a small Coke that way, for 5 cents, and it would last for hours!)
On the right side of the store was the magazine rack, which covered up part of the window. All the latest magazines were there, and kids spent a lot of time reading those magazines, especially if they didn't have a nickel to buy a Coke or an ice cream cone, but still needed something to do. Most of the time, the druggist didn't say anything. We would eventually buy something. I guess he knew we were staying out of trouble in his store, and our parents were customers. I couldn't wait for the latest movie magazines to come in, especially if they had Tim Holt or another one of my favorite stars in them. And, this is where I got my beloved comic books. I read and reread my comic books and had quite a collection. When I went away to college, my mother put all my dolls, comic books, scrap books with movie star pictures, and toys in a big toy chest, and moved them out to a shed, where they were all ruined. She thought I was too old for such things at age 16. I guess that part of the reality was that they needed the space for my sister to have a room that we had always shared, now that I was away at college.
In the center of the picture are a trio of youngsters, coming into the drugstore before or after the movie. They are dressed in jeans with the legs rolled up, and one is swinging a drawstring purse.
Passing by on the sidewalk there is an older couple, a tall Texan and his wife. They enjoyed this drugstore and others when they were youngsters, for the town was much larger with many more businesses, in times past. At this time in their lives, treats became rare in the drustore for them, but they were there often for medicine. They didn't hesitate to pay for the treats that the youngsters enjoyed, as they paid for their own purchases.
I was glad to see some of the others who used to hang out at the drugstore at the reunion last weekend.
Kathryn reminded our group of when the POWs from the German Prisoner of War Camp near the next town, went past the drugstore in trucks, on their way to and from the fields where they worked. There were all of these blonde men with blue eyes, some of them really cute, we thought. This was during WWII.
Sadly, the drugstore is now gone-torn down, and there is a vacant spot where we once spent so many happy hours, hoping to catch a beau, dream of a special gift or cosmetics (which our mothers wouldn't let us wear), read a magazine, spend some time with friends, or just enjoy some delicious ice cream, a banana split, a malt or soda, a sundae, a lime ice, or a Coke with a straw for two.