A lot of times people ask me “Where is home?” I usually answer something like “Wherever I turn off the engine is home because I live in a motor home full time.” While that is very true there is a bit more to it I fact. I have become familiar with several places and they have the home feeling about them. Of course Bentsen Grove Resort and the Mission/McAllen area feels like home. But coming into Rockport here I feel like I am getting home. We have been here many times and very much enjoy driving along the bay shore. So I suppose that it is a place that I could call home. There are a coupld other places that give me the same feeling. Rochester, New York is another one. Oddly enough Wheatridge, Colorado where I spent forty some years almost feels foreign, and Princeton, Kansas has an odd feel to it. I suppose that because my folks are no longer in Princeton it just does not feel right even though I spent all my youth there. So, “Where is home?” I will just have to stick with “Wherever I turn off the ignition.” The interior of my Vectra does not change much but the outside view may be anything.
Before we left Bentsen Grove we were raising a caterpillar that would become a butterfly. When it first came into our possession it was only about an eighth of an inch long and hard to see. It was on some leaves of a blue passion flower. I really did not think that the leaves would stay green long enough for it to reach maturity, but I was wrong. We watched it grow and eat leaves and it did not eat as much as I expected. After about two weeks the plant food was getting old and a bit wilted. The caterpillar seemed to get restless, it was crawling around more than it ever had before. I did not know if it was about to starve or about to change into a chrysalis. We went down to the butterfly park that is near where we live and was able to get a sprig of the plant the it needed to eat. I am not sure that it ever ate any thing but it did use the new sprig as a place to convert to a chrysalis. As we watched it for the next two weeks I became convinced that it had died, It seemed to me that the chrysalis was getting dried and shriveling more ever day. I was so surprised to come back to the camper one day and hear Erma say, “We have a butterfly!” It was a beautiful orange Gulf Frittilary. We let it strengthen its wings for a while and then took it down to the Butterfly Park and let it go. When we opened the butterfly castle it was gone in heartbeat. A short bit later we think we saw it flitting around the flowers there. We thought that it was appropriate that since its last food came from there it should start its butterfly life there.
GULF FRITTILARY BUTTERFLY
It is hard to believe that back about 13 years ago I started writing some of the memories of my life up until about 1960. I picked that year because it was the year that I graduated from high school and left the farm to live elsewhere. For a while I wrote almost every day during my lunch period. I started at that time because it was really the first time that I had an available computer that was good to use. I shared some the writings with a few friends and they told me I should publish them. Publishing may not be what I do with them but I have been thinking about sharing some of them in Uncle Ducks Tracks. I would appreciate comments being added to the blog if you have thoughts. Those will be under "A Kansas Farm Boy”. Also I have been writing about places that I have visited and recommend that other people see them. I have said that I was writing a book. A book does not have to be published to still be a book. I have considered putting that in this blog also. If I alternate the two every other posting there would be an item from “A Thousand And One Things To See In The Forty-Eight Contiguous States.” Again I would appreciate any comments.
GETTING STARTED from "A Kansas Farm Boy"
in the beginning
I came into the world in the usual way. I was the offspring of a Mother, Crystal Katherine and a Father, Lloyd Oral; most people called him Mike, many did not know that was not his given name. I had been in contact with my Mother for about nine months before I was introduced to my Father and siblings. I was actually the fourth child of my parents, but only the third living child. I had a brother, Arlen Dale, that was 11 years older, and a sister, Laura Lea, which was older by four years. There was another brother that did not make it past the first four months after conception. According to my birth certificate my first introduction to the world was at 8:30 PM on March 16, 1942. I was born near Sterling Nebraska in a three-room house on the farm where my Father worked. I do have a picture of the house I was born in. Some years before I took the photograph it had been moved to a new location. The picture was taken between 1958 and 1960 while on a trip to see my Aunt Ruby, Uncle Jim and other relatives in Nebraska. The house had been moved to a farm owned by the Wills, and only about a half-mile from Ruby and Jim’s farm, which was also where Mom was born and raised.
THE HOUSE WHERE I WAS BORN
To say that I was an unwanted child would be an incorrect statement. To say that I was an unwanted pregnancy would be absolutely correct. Two children were enough for Mom and Dad. My folks had some very good friends by the name of Clark and Erma Draper that lived in Olatha, Kansas. Erma told Mom that, “If you don't want this child, I’ll take it. By the time I arrived there was no way that anyone else could have me. It seems that nine months of carrying a child has a way of changing a woman’s mind, at least the mind of a woman with quality. I know of another Erma that felt similar to the way my Mother felt. She too had different feelings when our child was born. It would have taken great physical force to separate Mother and child. After nearly thirty years the same feelings hold true.
Apparently I was not too anxious to enter the new world. Both my parents have told me that the doctor had virtually given up on being able to save my life and was concentrating on saving my Mother. But as you can surmise he was able to save us both. I am really glad of that. There is a condition called yellow jaundice that I had, my Dad has described me as yellow as a banana. I guess that sometimes there were complications to the mental capacity of children with yellow jaundice. I guess I was one of the lucky ones, or perhaps there is something wrong with me. Perhaps I would have been a genius if I hadn’t had that condition. (There needs to be a little humor in here once in a while!)
Naturally I don’t remember anything about life for several years, but I have been told that when I was one I moved to the farm in Princeton, Kansas. The stories about how my parents bought the farm are somewhat vague. Somehow my Grand Father Simon Ural Peace was instrumental in the purchase. I have the feeling that he may have been renting the place and was ready to leave for retirement due to a stroke, and the farm was for sale, so the folks bought it. Actually I believe that he was against my parents purchasing the farm. If memory serves me correctly they paid $50.00 an acre, or $4000.00 for the entire farm. That doesn’t sound like a lot of money but it was a substantial amount back in 1943. When I bought my first house Mom asked me if I made a payment once or twice a year. They made a payment twice a year of a few hundred dollars.
Of the first several years I do not have many memories and that is normal I understand. So about all I can say is that I think I had the normal upbringing of a common Kansas kid
Till later this is Uncle Duck
