The Shot

I think the year was 1963, October the month. My high school sweetheart, Bonnie, and I traveled to Midland, MI for a long weekend with my brother Dean and his family. It was a Michigan fall, trees pretty much barren of leaves, but still a pretty time of year. Leaves on the ground, the wind brisk, and a hint of winter in the offing. We enjoyed the weekend, good conversation, good food, and even a partridge hunt.

Dean and I left the house Saturday morning after breakfast and headed out to the field. I do not know where we were, it was an area of hard woods, with patches of wetlands and marsh. Mixed shrubs and tall grass provided ample cover. We did not see much in the way of birds, but enough to keep our interest for a few hours.

We entered a lowland area that had hummocks of grass. It was not easy walking as you had to step in deep grooves along side these grass hummocks or you had to step up on the hump and footing was a little precarious. You could twist your ankle if you slipped, but it wasn't dangerous, just inconvenient.

I had moved off to one side and had gained the edge of some hardwoods where the walking was easier. Dean was still laboring through the hump backed grass area. A large hummock was in front of him and he had stepped up on it due to its size. About that time a partridge flushed in front of him. Dean brought his gun up, stepped back slightly to get a stance so the kick of the gun didn't knock him down and promptly stepped off the hummock into one of the deep ridges. He fell backwards, his gun was loosely pointed with his right hand and his left foot was coming up into the air. The shotgun discharged and Dean disappeared from sight in the tall grass. Suddenly the air was shattered with this wild cackling laughter which Dean could emit. I heard the flush, saw the movement of my brother to take a shot, saw him fall and shoot at the same time but did not see what happened.

I yelled to see if he was OK and what Dean yelled was "I got the damn thing. Can you believe that, I got it." Sure enough, falling backward, gun in one hand, about the take a serious pratfall, Dean shot the bird one handed. I'm not sure if we got anymore partridge that day, but I witnessed "The Shot."

It was a good day!

Christmas 2008

Seems a little early to include thoughts of Christmas 2008 in this blog. However it is early in the morning the day after and I'm a bit restless. I am wondering what I will do with the remaining days off I have. I always have goals of things I'd like to do but seldom get them done and end up feeling like I've wasted an opportunity. Regardless, I shall forge ahead today and hope for the best.

My lovely wife is a hard person to read. She has always expressed her feeling about things, sometimes a little too hasty in her comments. I've listened to her over these past 17 years and learned that it is kind of her way, she does love me and you couldn't ask for a more loyal person. One of the things that she always tends to hide is her enjoyment of things. Many times if you give her a gift she'll say things like you shouldn't spend so much. I don't, she and I have a very different impression of what is too much. There are times I get a little exasperated with her moodiness, however I've also learned to be quiet and wait, it will change.

Yesterday, December 25, 2008 was such a day. The day started with her being worried over her father's health, and feeling rushed because in the afternoon the "crew" would be coming for Christmas at our home and she needed to go spend some time with her Dad. When Terry is rushed she gets cranky, so that was the setting when she and I sat down with coffee and gifts to open early Christmas morning. However I tried to help her prepare the "Gumbo" for the afternoon's meal, and we kind of puttered around fixing and cleaning. Finally, when the family began to arrive Terry settled into trying to enjoy the moment. Grandson Sam gets pretty rambunctious and can be a bit of a load, however everyone pretty much takes him in stride. Tracy's kids Tim and Kim have grown so much and Tim is now out of high school. Terry's brother Barry and his wife Karen and their two children Kayla and Seth were here. A couple of fine looking kids and wonderful athletes. Seth earned all-state honors for high school football and is getting some recruiting action from area colleges. Kayla is a terrific volleyball player and is also an all-state athlete. They are also good kids.

So the house filled, presents passed and opened, and dinner served. The "Gumbo" went well, the ham was tasty, the poppers were spicy and the meal enjoyed. Terry got a new camera for Christmas and rewarded me by taking a lot of pictures. She also seemed to really enjoy her camera as she got used to it. She was decked out in a nice white top decorated with cardinals and looked full of the Christmas spirit.


I had made several power point presentations while fiddling around over the past few weeks. One of them was a memorial to Cilla our little dog that passed away on December 16. One presentation was just a little romantic ditty I did based on Ann Murray's song, "Can I Have This Dance for the Rest Of My Life." It is a series of pictures of Terry. Then finally, I put together 72 slides of previous Christmas pictures taken here at this house and had some Christmas music playing behind them. I thought the folks would enjoy the pictures of past Christmases. Well Terry insisted I play all of the shows and ended up in tears with Cilla's. Sometimes she shows me the depth of her feeling, not often, but if you look for it you can be rewarded by how much she cares. Such was the case this night. She wanted everyone to see the effort I had put into to honoring my love for her. It made me feel good that it was so appreciated, not by anyone else, that wasn't my goal, but by her. The night ended well, the dishes cleaned, the mess picked up and in bed by 9 PM. All is well in the Floria household this Christmas of 2008.

Mother's Knitting

When I was young, in high school my Mom & Dad could not afford much for gifts. My Mother was a talented lady. She would knit presents for all of the grand kids, eight of them. She also would knit for her children. The clickity-clack of the knitting needles would begin in August and mittens, scarfs, sweaters and lovely hand made items would start to accumulate. My Mother had the capability of knitting while socializing. She might carry on a conversation and all of a sudden she would grow quiet and concentrate as she came to the end of a row or some intricate knitting maneuver.

My sister Phyllis took up knitting and for a number of years when I was in high school I had the most beautiful collection of heavy cable knit sweaters, ski sweaters, and even a beautiful blue Angora sweater. All of them hand made. What a talent these kin folk had and what beautiful garments were provided. There certainly was the cost of the yarn, but the love and care that went into making those items probably wrapped the receiver in as much warmth as the sweater or mittens did. It was always appreciated, but the skill of patience of the craft was amazing.

Cilla

Cilla passed away December 12, 2008 at approximately 7:00 PM. Cilla came to live with us around 2002. She had lived with our daughter Tracy and her husband and children. However, their home burned and they decided they did not want to take Cilla to the new home. Both adults worked and were gone a lot leaving Cilla alone. Cilla began to chew shoes and was quite destructive. After the fire we kept Cilla and when they decided they did not want her back we invited her to live with us. Cilla had a problem with heart worm which was successfully treated however Cilla had a cough, and she often coughed up some phlegm.

If Cilla ran or got real excited she would cough. I often wondered how long her heart would stand the strain of coughing and shortness of breath. When we got Cilla in 2002 she was 6 years old, when she passed yesterday we estimate her to be 12.

She was a good dog. We never had any trouble with her chewing anything. Sometimes we underestimated her bladder capacity and she had an accident in the bathroom on a rug. Sometimes she seemed to have a digestive tract problem and would have a BM in the house, same place. In the last few years there were days when she just did not seem to feel well. She would get lethargic, listless and slept a lot. However, we also discovered that she suffered seizures which seemed to really take the starch out of her. Perhaps the days she didn't feel well were the aftermath of a seizure.

Regardless Cilla was a courageous little dog. She enjoyed life. Some of the favorite things were to sit in the recliner with Terry while we watched TV. If Terry were not here and I was in my recliner then she would come and want to sit next to me. However, if Terry were in her chair, that is where she wanted to be, even to the extent that she would get up off my lap and want to be put down so she could go sit with Terry. I didn't mind, I took up more room in the chair and she could snuggle down between the chair my leg. With Terry she could. It got funny because she always sat on Terry's left side. However if Terry got up she would shift to the right side or lay cross ways in the chair. When Terry returned she would tell Cilla to move over and she would.

Another favorite position was if I were working on the computer she would come and stand in front of me. She didn't beg, she just looked at you. I would pick her up and hold her in the crook of my left arm while I read news, sports or read emails. She would lay astraddle of my arm with her head resting on my forearm. She was comfortable, but sometimes in the summer it would get too hot.

Cilla was a bit of a persnickety eater. She ate mostly table scraps. If I had bacon and eggs she would enjoy a bit of my bacon which I tore up and distributed around the plate. I would tell her she had a plate full of bacon, but I think she tolerated my lame joke. If we had breakfast sausage Terry would give her some of hers. We tried dog food in pouches, cans, and dry. If we waited long enough she would eat it, but I always had the impression that she wanted table food. She liked spaghetti and goulash. She did not like fish. Cheese, oh boy, she loved swiss, cheddar and colby. I did not give her a lot, but if I opened a package of cheese she would come down off the couch, chair or wherever to share in her treat. If I opened a package of lunch meat, particularly ham she would drift in from wherever she was with her little nose twitching in anticipation of getting a morsel, which she often did.

Cilla was not a real active dog. However she really enjoyed our walks around the property. She would sniff and poke and explore taking in all the smells. I often wished she could tell me what story she was learning. Cilla was an exuberant little dog, often stamping her feet, lurching in enticement as she searched and teased. She never got very far away and if we got into deep grass tried to stay close.

Cilla loved to go for rides in the car. If you said do you want to go for a ride she would come and stand in front of me stamping her front feet in anticipation. If you walked out the door she would be right at your feet not wanting to miss a moment.
When Terry and I went grocery shopping she sat on Terry's lap looking out the window as we drove to the store. Then she sat in Terry's chair and would wait patiently for our return. Sometimes I would take her in the truck out to the feed store to get bird feed. She would come over and sit half on my lap and snuggle while we rode to do our errand.

In some ways she was a demanding dog. But what she demanded was affection, nothing else. She loved to have her ears scratched and her tummy rubbed. She was a loving little dog with a heart as big as her tiny little body. We will miss her. She will be fondly remembered for as long as Terry and I live. Thank you Cilla for being a part of our life.

A trip in the desert

Perhaps it is the time of year, perhaps it is the temperature. I am not getting out of the house today, the temperature hasn't gone above 32 yet and it is mid-afternoon. So, I've scanned pictures, played Christmas music and watched some football. I am struck by memories. I went back and scanned in some photo albums we have filled with pictures taken before we had digital cameras.

Exactly sixteen years ago Terry and I were on a one week trek to Las Vegas. I had purchased a statewide distributorship for Sno Biz shaved ice. They marketed the flavors and provided you with some support. It was a new company. Their first convention of distributors from around the country was to be in Las Vegas. A little manufacturing company I was part owner of in Newport, AR built a vending cart that would be touted to be used in the Wal*Mart program. Wal*Mart signed an agreement with Sno Biz to allow their retailers to set up outside Wal*Mart stores and sell shaved ice products. A business partner and I had a stand in Paragould.

The memory isn't of the business, it failed. The memory is of a hectic driving schedule to Las Vegas and back. Terry was working at Sunbeam at the time. We had been married just over a year. We started out on Friday, December 4. We were going to start early in the day so we could have some leeway in our travel plans. However due to delays in producing the cart we were taking to the show we did not get underway until late afternoon. We spent the first night in Amarillo, TX. Our cart covering did not hold up well in the wind, so we had to stop in Oklahoma City and find a Sam's Club that had some heavy tarps and fasteners. We recovered the grill and had a secure package so off we went.

Our routine was to get up at 6 AM, have breakfast and be on the road by 7 AM. We would drive all day stopping for gas, food and an occasional break. We would stop someplace for dinner about 5 PM then drive till 10 PM and get a room. Up again at 6 and on the road. We made it to Vegas in three days pulling in to the Dunes Hotel late the afternoon of 7th. The convention ran Tuesday to Thursday evening then we packed up and repeated the driving schedule back to Arkansas.

The convention was a bust, although we met some nice people. I played golf at the Dunes and won a gym bag that I still use. I played 18 holes while Terry took a nap and piddled around the hotel. However, I was not ready for the sun and contracted a pretty bad sunburn on my arms and face. We had a banquet that night and attended that, but after it wrapped up I got a terrible headache and was sick. Terry and I were in bed by 8 PM. Being early risers I woke up at 3 AM and so did T. So we got up, got dressed and took a long walk along the strip.

There was not much foot traffic. I called to a duck swimming in a pool at one of the resorts and damn if it didn't come after us and followed Terry and I for some distance as the duck and I called softly back and forth.

We went into a McDonald's and were amazed at the cost of the food, and the fact that they had slot machines all over the place. We walked for perhaps two to three hours. Finally tired, full of coffee and ready for the day we came back to the Dunes and participated in the day's events.

I believe it was Friday morning when we left. We stopped at Hoover Dam and took pictures and walked around for about an hour. Then south to Kingman, AZ and picked up east I-40. As we approached Flagstaff, AZ we realized we were following a snow system. The desert had snow which made for a beautiful scene. We spent the night in Flagstaff and thoroughly enjoyed that experience. There are two high mountains just on the edge of Flagstaff and we drove by Northern Arizona University, which I now look out for on the football and basketball scores. It was really pretty, snow on the streets, pines covered with snow, and that crunch of frozen snow under foot.

The next day we were off early, still following the snow system. Driving was nice, we did not run into snow flurries, just the accumulation on the side of the road. I think the next night we spent in Tucumcari, NM which is the city my Dad and I stayed in when I got out of the army in 1971. I had mustered out in El Paso, TX in September of 1971 and my Dad had flown down to drive back with me as my wife and kids had flown home a couple of weeks earlier. I didn't get away from El Paso until later in the day so we got as far as Tucumcari and spent the night in a Best Western that had a special on suites for the price of a room.

Anyway, Terry and I stayed in Tucumcari and were on the road early the next morning. We made Amarillo, TX still following the snow storm and spent the night there. It was an easy drive home the next day and life returned to normal. But for a week, it was a fast paced trip with many miles put on the new truck I had. I had purchased a new Ford F-150 pick up truck in August, 1992 and in December we put a great deal of mileage on it. It is 2008 as I write this remembrance and that same truck is parked out in my driveway. It has been a good truck.

It was a tough trip, it was not successful. However, Terry and I saw land we probably never would've seen, nor will we probably ever see again. It was worth it.

802 West Superior - Christmas

The first 8 years of my life were spent in a home my Dad rented from Judge Nebel. It was a two story home that sits at 802 West Superior St. in Munising, MI. It is still there, and while it has been remodeled, the front looks pretty much the same.

There are three Christmas memories I vividly recall involving that home.

First: My sister Carol is the closest to me in age, she is 14 years older. When I was around 4 she went to college. The tradition at our home was we cut a wild tree. My Dad traveled our county quite often visiting customers and in late summer and fall he would scout the woods along the back routes he took for a possible tree. Then after Thanksgiving we would go out and snowshoe around the woods, examining trees, snow getting down your back when you shook off a tree, and eventually make our selection. The trees were typically balsam, if we could find them, they seemed to hold their needles a little longer. Part of getting the tree was to also bring some boughs back for other trimming needs.

At the back of the living room were stairs leading to the second floor. The stairs had a railing, but were open. So my Dad always ran a string of lights down the stairwell around the balusters. Then he would fasten boughs so the stairwell had pine boughs and lights all the way to the top. My sister Carol would then make snow. The artificial snow was made with Ivory Soap Flakes, sugar and water. She would beat the soap and sugar in a mixer to actually make a white concoction similar to whipped cream, only it wasn't edible. I learned that lesson. Then using a spatula she would ladle the snow on the pine boughs and the railing would have some ribbon bows spaced to give the stairwell a very festive look. It was nice climbing the stairs to the bedrooms when the lights were lit and the view from the stairwell looking out on the living room was magnificent. I remember the stairwell vividly.

Second: When I was about 5 I received a telegram from Santa. It was delivered by the Western Union deliveryman late on the afternoon of the 24th. It said, "Dear Tom stop, Am leaving the North Pole now stop. I will be coming to your home later tonight stop. Be good and have a Merry Christmas stop. Santa" Wow, a personal message from Santa. I wasn't the only one who lived A Christmas Story.

Third: My parents would sometimes go out to a Christmas Eve party, or the Bakkums or Gibson's might drop in and visit. Usually there were some late nights, but not for me, I had to go to bed and wait till morning. God that was rough. I would wonder what Santa would bring. I was excited about the whole season. We always had snow, and lots of snow for Christmas so the lights of homes decorated for Christmas always brought good cheer and happiness. Many times after Christmas Eve church services we would take a ride through town to look at the homes. We would see people gathering for festivities, families coming together, lights and cheer made for an exciting atmosphere for a young boy to be part of.

I would have to be in bed at some hour, I do not know the time. I do know that my folks stayed up some time after I was in bed. So, when I woke up at 3 or 4 in the morning ready to get at it, I was made to lay in bed while they snoozed some. I do not know what time we got up, but it seemed endless. Then, when my mother and father would finally start moving and waking the ritual of the tree lighting and bathroom took place. My dad would go use the bathroom, splash some water on his face and then go downstairs and turn on the tree lights. My mother would then have to go into the bathroom and perform whatever ablutions she performed, totally unnecessary and taking far too much time. Me, a quick pee and I was good to go.

Then down the stairs we would traipse, Dad in the lead, Mom then me. I am sure my eyes lit up with glee and avarice as I viewed the lights, the gifts that Santa had brought, and the array of presents. I recall getting the proverbial gas station with the little elevator that would lift cars to the second floor. It wouldn't last a month, but for a while it was wonderful.

Creation of a Memory

Years ago one of the names I had for my youngest daughter was Tootermoose. Over the years I've given her little mementos recalling my affectionate name for her. I don't know if she keeps them, if she does they are starting to amount to a moosey menagerie. Well, some years ago Tootermoose sent me a gift, a Christmas ceramic moose chef with a plate of cookies. It comes apart and you put an incense in a compartment. Once lit the incense emits smoke out a chimney that is part of the cookie tray. As a result you get the incense smell and it appears as if the plate of cookies is steaming hot. It is a pure Christmas memory.

I shot a video of the moose on its inaugural appearance for Christmas 2008. Every year for the years since Tootermoose gave us the chef it starts our Christmas season. It is the first decoration out of the box, and is lit right away to signal to us that the holiday season is at hand. It is good.

Enjoy the brief video.