Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
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My great-uncle Ottis passed away two years ago, just around his 98th birthday. Born in 1913, Ottis would've turned 100 this week, May 30th, Memorial Day. I knew him from family visits about once a year. Either they came here to see us, or we went to Oklahoma City to see them. He was quiet and calm. I was a child. He visited with the adults. I don't remember when I first realized he had fought in World War II. What I knew of his time during the war was his being stationed with Jimmy Stewart in Idaho. That's the only story I ev...
I just needed to run into the bank to drop off a check. Only three things needed in hand — my keys, the check, and the ubiquitous cell phone. One cannot leave home without it. One cannot leave the car without it. One does not walk to the mailbox without it. As I entered the bank I saw a poster on the bulletin board, a man holding a guitar, the dates for a concert, with a night and time that seemed workable to me. I repeated the information to my brain two or three times, willing it to stay there, then went ahead with my b... Full story
When those of us who have lived here for decades give directions, we speak our own little language. We might tell someone to meet us at a convenience store, followed with "where the old skating rink used to be ... not where the lumber yard was." When we're describing some place on The Square, we don't use east and west. We use The Gals, Turner's and Gerry's Gift Box as our points of reference. I was a teenager working in the Hallmark store. I was a young girl excited to finally be old enough to own a dress from Ruby's. We wen... Full story
Six years ago my husband and I took off on a cold November weekend to enjoy hiking in the White Mountain Wilderness near Ruidoso. The first day we hiked from the Monjeau Lookout along the Crest Trail loving the views, enjoying the crisp air. The wind was howling when we woke up the next day. Crawling out of our tent, we weren't even sure if we would hike. But we did. I always keep a travel journal, and I'd like to share a little of what I wrote that day. "The clouds rolled in, the wind kept blowing, and the higher we climbed...
My grandmother's yard was a fantasy land to me when I was little girl. My sister and I played there for hours and hours while Nana went about her happy task of fighting off dandelions and tending the flowers. We baked the greatest variety of mud pies on the back patio. We bravely jumped from island to island in the rock garden, squealing with terror if we didn't quite make it. There were fierce, imaginary alligators lurking everywhere. We ate strawberries from the shady beds, and we did it all with the soft scent of roses...
We all know these phone calls. They come at any hour of the day or night. We answer with our regular "Hello," but the voice on the other end is not normal. It might be overly subdued or strangely frantic, but we instantly know that something is terribly wrong, and we brace ourselves for the conversation. I received one of those calls last week … the news of the death of an extended family member. I could tell by the tone of my father's voice that someone had passed away, and my mind began racing through names as I listened t...
Earlier this month I was involved in some serious clean-up. Although I usually work at my desk, I'm no stranger to manual labor on hot days. I don't mind pulling on the gloves. And since I'm no spring chicken, I'm especially grateful for good health and the ability to work a shovel. My job was to unload a pick-up truck full of heavy debris, and I was up for the task. Inch by inch, I would get it done. I'm going into this paragraph stating quite clearly … I was happy to do this job on my own. Wearing my badge of honor, I w...
Portales is not the land of fairy tales. Oh, to be sure… it's the stuff of legends. But our setting doesn't bring to mind visions of knights and damsels with the sweet perfume of flowers on the breeze. Except for that one night, that special night that comes every May. The belles are in pastel gowns. The dashing young men are in tuxedos. With just a little imagination, the high school gym becomes a grand ballroom. The waltz is lovely, and the ribbons form a beautiful braid down the Maypole. It's a little dream world. So many...
It doesn't surprise you to hear me say I love tradition. As much as I love change and movement… I also love classics. Taking a close look at myself, I think I'm just comfortable walking a few steps behind the times. I stay with old music. I love the old hymns best … the poetic wording, the glorious melodies. And I love pop music that was well before my time. Doris Day and Frank Sinatra really make me smile. I'm bad at the gadgets, and it's pretty close to unbelievable that I can actually get words and photos onto a web...
A steady cast of characters streams past my front porch. I enjoy my own personal viewing area as I take in this show. While I sit on my old glider, or work at the ever present weeds, the neighborhood passes by. Many of them have dogs in tow. Our college professor, the airman recently home from Afghanistan, people we've worked for, the girl across the street. They go running past. The merchants from the square, the high school athletes, those determined to get in shape. We see them with their children on tiny bikes and...
We had spent a few days in the Pecos Wilderness, miles away from roads and vehicles, televisions and cell phones. The sounds were of small mountain streams, birds, the occasional chipmunk scurrying up a tree. But all good things must come to an end, so we'd hiked back out to civilization, driven to the closest town, and were actually quite thrilled at the prospect of a green chile cheeseburger. Some moments in life leave major impressions, and this was definitely one of those times. I refer to it as the assault. We stepped in...
