Seen at the Creekside Grill

Spoke briefly with the owner of this gorgeous car.
The Corvair is older than the owner.

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Whether the people are inside or out. Automobiles are a story unto themselves. They've come so far in such a short time. They have taken over everywhere. They break thru the forests and the dunes and the mountains and bring civilization faster and wilder than the railroads ever could. They aren't bound by two rails. They suggest an absolute freedom, freedom that could take the mind to anywhere. They can go even where there are no roads; they can run over everything old and suggest a constant present. They seem like so much freedom but they actually are so much dependence. When you gain a car you lose a self. Cars keep driving to the furthest reaches, past where the roads peter out. The people stay inside them, enclosed in glass and steel. ~ John Akre.
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The Chevrolet Corvair is an automobile produced by the Chevrolet division of General Motors from 1959 to 1969, for the 1960–1969 model years. The Corvair was offered in a wide range of body styles, including four-door sedans, two-door coupes, convertibles, and station wagons. It was also built as a compact van similar to the Volkswagen bus, with styles including a pickup, panel van, and a passenger van called the Greenbrier. The cargo floor was raised above the rear engine, and some pickups featured an unusual side-loading ramp.

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY (lifted from the web)

"I was shopping for a car and asked the salesman the sticker price. He said $200. 'Not much for a car,' I said. 'The car's extra,' he said." (Scott Roeben)

overheard at the post office

Customer: "How will I know if this package gets to the person in Guadamala?"

Postal employee: "Take it yourself."

{then an explanation about how the postal employees

do all they can to ensure the mail arrives safely - but

can't account for mail handling in other countries . . .}

Little Bee

The blurb on the jacket:

We don't want to tell you WHAT HAPPENS in this book.

It is a truly SPECIAL STORY and we don't want to spoil it.

NEVERTHELESS, you need to know enough to buy it, so we will just say this:

THIS IS THE STORY OF TWO WOMEN. Their lives collide one fateful day, and one of them has to make a terrible choice, the kind of choice we hope you never have to face. Two years later, they meet again--the story starts there . . .

Once you have read it, you'll want to tell your friends about it. When you do, please don't tell them what happens. The magic is in how the story unfolds.

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Nevertheless, from page 6:

And then I was thinking, Why are you staring at that girl in the newspaper, mister, and not us girls here in the queue for the telephone? What if we all ran away? But then I remembered, they were letting us out. This was hard to understand after so much time. Two years, I lived in that .............

That's all!

You must read the book.

Coiled - with purpose

Wires Crossed

by Raymond A. Foss

Wires crossed

circuits down

no connection

anywhere around

In the dark unaware

needing help

catch the air

Wires crossed

circuits down

no connection

in the town

Wanting words

answers to our calls

on hold for hours

waiting in the halls

Wires crossed

circuits down

no relief

anywhere

at all

May 29, 2007

William Goyen

William Goyen interview, June 1975 by Robert Phillips:

"As a literary person, I truly am the offspring of my mother and women like my mother. There's no woman like a Texan woman in her eighties. She wouldn't have a clue as to what a 'southern' lady was. Hers was a singing way of expressing things, and this I heard so very early that it became my own speech; that's the way I write. I love spending money to talk to her on the phone in Texas an hour at a time because it's just as though the curtain that came down on an opera last night goes right up when I call her tonight. The aria goes right on; it's wonderful."

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"The natural world has such a secret power for me, it is such a source of strength and affirmation. . . . But then there are human beings, too, and they, too, are beautiful and treacherous and full of such mystery. God knows we need someone to tell us the human is beautiful these days, and we need to hear over and over again that even in our ugliness we must be loved into something more than ourselves and more than ugliness. My side is on the side of the human being, and the human being moving in nature, which is spirit; and nothing else seems important to me, and if I thought I could not spend my life laboring to perceive and to understand and to clarify what happens to us in the world, then I would want to die." - Selected Letters, 114-115

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I extracted a portion of one of Goyen's short stories for a monologue in my drama class when I attended San Jacinto Junior College in Houston. The man is simply one of the best Texas writers ever, in my opinion. His words were written to be inhaled . . . and to be spoken.
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loquats

When we moved from Denver to our first home in Seguin, there was a loquat tree in the back yard. Dear Hubby gathered loquats and made some delicious loquat preserves!

We visited a little art gallery in San Antonio and I purchased the above painting of loquat blossoms. The owner told me the artist was from the Seguin area. I've not been able to read the name (to my satisfaction) on the painting, but I believe it is Pat Wittliff. Or maybe Dot??

I am particularly fond of this painting.