Coffee with a Pioneer?

Hello, Thursday morning friends! I hope you’re enjoying a successful week.

It’s been an interesting one for me. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need a vacation. I haven’t had one of those in a couple of years.

But not yet.

Lately, I’ve been reminiscing here on the blog. There’s a reason for that. I’m working on possible plots for future stories, and wondering which path to take first. I have a couple of ideas and the freedom to choose.

Some of you may have traced your family and found interesting folks and stories along the way. I haven’t done that, but some of my cousins have. My mother’s family traces back to Scotland in the 16th century. They came to Virginia and raised tobacco. Some of them moved west to Missouri. One was a Union sympathizer with a beard down to his waist. I read that he was not a popular guy. But his son dressed like a cowboy. He went to Arkansas and later, to Texas where he settled in the panhandle.

He was my grandpa’s grandfather. His son married and had four sons, but died in his forties. His wife, my great-grandma Christy, married her late sister’s husband. Think about that one. I suppose there were children involved that needed both parents to survive. Or, maybe they were in love.

I always admired my Great-Grandma Christy. She was a pioneer, and pioneers were tough. This time, I do have a picture. That’s Grandpa in the middle. He’s the second-youngest. His two older brothers were twins. Redheads, and don’t they look like trouble?

The Christy Family, circa 1911-1912

Folks didn’t smile for their pictures back then, but sometimes personalities shone through. Just as you can easily read the mischief in the faces of the twins, you can’t miss the hint of a smile on Great-Grandma’s face.

I wonder what it would’ve been like to visit her at home in those days? Would she offer coffee? Not in a Texas summer, I’ll bet. But in winter, she’d have a roaring flame in the cook stove and maybe brew coffee in an enamel pot.

This photo has always fascinated me. The first time I saw it, I wondered how my younger brother Ed could be in such an old photograph. That man on the left, my great-grandfather Christy—looks a lot like my younger brother—even the way he combed his hair.

I may be finished traveling memory lane. I really don’t know what’s up next. I’m reading a really good book. If I finish in time, I may write a review.

If you’re in the area, I hope you’ll join me on Saturday at the Plainview Barnes and Noble. Here’s an official invitation:

 

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