The Pheasant Hat

On a breezy Sunday afternoon I drove toward the foothills with Pheasant feathers on my head, and hoped nobody would see me. This situation stemmed from a young woman climbing into a young man's wagon on a cold snowy day over sixty years ago.

In the early 1940's my mother-in-law taught school in a one room school house near Swedeburg, Nebraska. It was her first teaching job, and she was living away from home, boarding with a family who lived out in the countryside. She walked to school every day, and on one particularly cold day as she trudged to school through the snow, a wagon with a team of horses rattled up beside her.

"Would you like a ride?"

She looked up and saw a young man. He looked safe enough, especially with his shy smile and big ears.

"Oh, thank you." She held up her hand.

The wind whipped his blond hair as he reached down to help her up. Donald was a Swedish boy, born on a farm nearby. He had been born in the same bedroom as his father before him. His grandfather had homesteaded land.

When they arrived at the schoolhouse, he helped Katherine with some of her preliminary teaching duties like gathering wood for the stove.

The next morning, as Katherine plodded along the road to school, the wagon pulled up again.

"Would you like a ride?"

Well this went on for days. Until, one day, she heard the beautiful words.

"Will you marry me?"

Now, what does this have to do with a Pheasant hat? Well farm boys like to hunt. And Katherine had always wanted a fashionable Pheasant hat. They were newlyweds, now, and didn't have much money. They eventually moved in with Donald's parents on the farm to help take care of his ailing mother. But back to the hat. It was an extravegance that was not affordable. So Donald did the next best thing.



He and his dad went hunting and shot themselves a Pheasant. Then they crafted it into fancy hat for Katherine. She loved it! (and we take a moment to remember this special pheasant who brought such joy.)



(It has much more style than the picture displays.)


I wore the hat to my friend's Mad Hatter Tea Party a couple of Sundays ago.



Here you see several ladies taking a break from their busy lives to let their hair down, or I should say to put their hats on to relax, play games, and be a little crazy.





We had a lovely time.

Posts that will be Coming Soon

(1) The Pheasant Hat Post

(2) Florida--from an angle seldom seen.

Into the City of Angels

Union Station - photo by Sharon, 1-4-12

The lazy days between Christmas and the new year were fading fast and I thought, "I need to do something out of the ordinary before I go back to work."

I've always wanted to ride the Gold-Line, because I love trains. Actually called a "light rail", the Gold Line runs from Pasadena through downtown East Los Angeles.

Why not go to lunch in Los Angeles? I found two good friends, Terry and Sunny, who were up for the adventure.

The train, hanging by wires, floated along in gentle fashion stopping and going to let passengers on and off. We wound our way through Old Town Pasadena, then turned and headed toward Los Angeles. It wasn't long before we stepped off at Union Station.


The station opened in May 1939. It was built on a grand scale and became known as "Last of the Great Railway Stations" built in the USA. Although the neighborhood around the station is a bit shaggy, the station has aged gracefully, and one easily notices its beautiful architecture.

I particularly liked these windows.


The station has served as a backdrop for many films including The Italian Job, Silverstreak, The Island, NCIS: Los Angeles, to name a few.

The Christmas tree was still up.
We emerged from the station and into the streets.

It was a quiet day...not too many people around except the locals.


We stopped in the square to survey the area.

Terry hams it up for the picture.
"Okay...we've had enough pictures."

Terry and Sunny crossed the street. I got stuck in the middle trying to get a photo of Los Angeles City Hall and the old buildings. City Hall was designed by some of the same architects who built Union Station.

Where'd Terry and Sunny go? I found myself on Olvera street, the oldest part of Los Angeles. The city was actually founded on a site southeast of this street in 1781 by a group of Spanish pobladores (settlers), consisting of 11 families. The street, a tourist attraction has many historic buildings and looks like a romantic vision of old Mexico. Small vendor stands with assorted trinkets line the street, colorful pinatas sway, and over-sized sombreros rest next to colorful Mexican pottery.

I trotted past some hanging puppets and spotted Terry and Sunny beyond the stuffed donkeys heading towards a restaurant.

Sunny was saying, "Oh it smells wonderful! Let's go in here!"



After having our fill of toastadas and enchiladas we lingered and talked until the sun drifted low, casting it's golden light across the sidewalk reminding us that we better head back to Union Station before dark.
The train approaches (left side of picture) We climb on and wind our way back toward Sierra Madre.
Near the end of the ride, the train drifted to a stop, and we quickly gathered our things and stepped off. The train took off again, and we dreamily watched it head off into the distance.

Then someone said, "Oh no! This wasn't our stop!"
Sure enough, we had gotten off the train too early. We were now stuck on raised island in the middle of the freeway. Traffic rumbled on both sides of us. Sigh.

At least the sunset was entertaining.
Fifteen minutes later, another train came by and picked us up.

Back at our home station, we climbed the steps to our car which was parked on the roof of the building. I spotted my son's workplace, "Bed Bath and Beyond".

And here is another shot looking east.

We climbed in the car and peered through the Eucalyputus trees at the orange sky. And we knew it had been a great day!

Happy New Year

A peaceful moment...and I am reminded that God is working in my son's life.

Merry Christmas

Photos taken at family Christmas Party, Laguna Beach.

It's Christmas

I thought I should get something up on my blog that looked like Christmas. Meet Diamond. May you have a blessed Christmas as you celebrate the birth of Jesus, our Savior.

I'll be going to a family Christmas party this weekend, and on Monday...a wedding! My Christmas shopping is almost done. But nothing is wrapped.

The dishwasher broke and the wind storm's power outages took out the TV. We're looking for a new one. The refrigerator broke last month. Well...that's life! (as my mother would say.)

Yes, life is good. I have a husband who loves me, food on the table, a roof over my head, not to mention two sons and a dog to go on walks with. I have loving parents and beautiful blue skies. Tonight I spotted Venus and Jupiter in the night sky, as I put away the ladder. Oh...Mozart was up on it, cleaning the leaves out of the rain gutters.

Traffic is getting thick out there so I'm planning to avoid the stores at all costs, if possible. I want to find a quiet corner. To be at peace. To think about Christmas. To bask in God's amazing love. And Jesus, reconciling us to him. Yes, He has made it possible for us to have peace.

But after that I have a lot to do. A Christmas dinner must be planned, and the house cleaned. But I hope to carry His peace in my soul.

Hurricane in the Neighborhood

Our valley has been in the news every night for a week. We had a hurricane without the rain. I still can't believe it.


This picture above does not do it justice. We have fallen trees and branches lining the curbs of our streets...like snowbanks...green and brown snowbanks.

Powerful winds woke us up on Wednesday night, in the wee hours of Thursday morning. I woke Mozart up, "Did you hear that?".
"Oh it will be okay," he said. "It's just the wind." Then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

I stayed awake and thanked God we had just trimmed our giant tree in the front yard. Someone had knocked at our door a couple of weeks ago and suggested a trim. Since it hadn't been done in 10 years. (Above) Palm Frons scattered over the Arboretum parking lot.
Large power poles snapped and fell on this street near hour home. Our power was out for 3 days. The homes on this street still don't have power. Our schools closed on Thursday and Friday. Since the kids couldn't play video games, the parents put them to work. I've never seen so many children raking before!
After the electricity came on, I went to the market to re-stock the fridge, and found many trees like this.
Edison is still working around the clock.
Broken trees are everywhere.
That's the roof of our church.
The people on this street are not only enduring the cold, but have their homes illuminated all night...Edison's been working on this half-mile stretch for 6 days.
These people weren't very lucky. Today I noticed another home with 2 cars parked in the driveway. Both were crunched by a large tree. But amazingly nobody was hurt.

Our small city lost approx. 500 trees. Several other cities were affected and had similar losses.
My oldest son was determined to read, and made some candle holders out of my glasses. For three days and 2 nights, life changed for us. But good came out of bad. We had some family time without the tv and other distractions. Mozart emerged from the studio and didn't know what to do with himself...but when we finally began to get into the rhythm of our "new normal" then...the electricity flipped on!