A Texas Girl Talks - Life… from a decidedly southern perspective!

Visiting My Ancestry - Tom and Buena Davis, Part 4

Send a text [https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2346373/open_sms] 1971 - Davis Ranch, Sonora Texas I was six years old and it was shearing day.   A large part of our annual income depended on the sale of wool and mohair, but I didn’t know or care about that part of it. My only thought was to get down to the pens as soon as mom would turn me loose when I heard that ancient pickup rattle up the road at daybreak carrying its crew of four or five Hispanic men.  Dad would meet the truck at the driver’s side window, briefly conferring with the Work Foreman as the shearers spilled out of the cab and bed.  After looking over the pens of bleating animals they plugged in their clippers and got to work.  The men were fast; sorting, positioning and shearing the animals in a matter of minutes. They worked in the shearing shed, which consisted of a roof and two side walls over a large concrete slab that provided a clean surface for the sheep or goat to be placed on.  One man held the animal on its side as another operated the clippers, using long, smooth stokes to separate the fleece from the thin skin. I was fascinated by the way the lengths of wool or hair would pile up neatly around the animal in fluffy bunches. Small cuts were a frequent occurrence, but were treated with a greasy salve of some kind which stopped the bleeding almost immediately.  Rarely was a wound life- threatening, but screwworms were a concern so a watchful eye was kept on the animal for a few days in case an infestation or infection occurred.  A herd of Spanish goats, which are a hardy breed, able to survive and thrive in the prickly and rocky terrain of West Texas, also roamed the ranch. Their short coats were not shorn; instead, their value lay in the market price of their meat.  Cabrito - the roasted meat of a young goat - was a regular staple for meals at the ranch, along with beans and bread, pickles and potatoes. In fact, the table fare of my childhood at the ranch hadn’t changed much from the meals described by Papa, over sixty years before I came along, in his letters to a young Buena Davis. The animals were part of the cycle of life. We welcomed the babies with the awe and respect due new life, and yet when the time came, they were sold or slaughtered to sustain the ranchers who had raised them. Some though, managed to evade the system.Papa Davis had raised a few bottle babies  - goat kids not accepted by their mother for one reason or another - and a couple of them became pesky pets, trotting after any human who passed by and bleating pitifully in the hope that a few kernels of corn would be tossed their way. When I was barely walking and talking, I took a shine to a gentle floppy eared nanny that I dubbed the “Spinach Goat”.  Papa would bring her into the screened in porch that connected the old part of the ranch house to the new, and there I would be placed atop her back for a ride, as Papa led her by the horns in large circles around the room. The goat was old and the rides were brief and my memories of it live only in a yellowing Kodak snapshot and the stories my parents told me, but thinking about it always brings a smile to my face. Thanks for stopping by! Remember... Your life is a story. Make it a good one! Find Lorena at: https://atexasgirltalks.com/ [https://atexasgirltalks.com/] https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/ [https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/] https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY [https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY] https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/ [https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/]

Shane and Barbee Beer -The Art and the Stories

Send a text [https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2346373/open_sms] Hey Ya’ll, welcome to the latest episode of A Texas Girl Talks!   My guests today are R Shane and Barbee Beer, a couple whose lives have been cast by western culture and Shane’s Native American heritage. Sculpted by grit and dreams, horses, cattle and art, their path meandered across New Mexico and Texas, eventually culminating in a quiet and reclusive life on their ranch outside of Hico where Shane writes and creates art in between tending to the demands of ranch life in Texas.  Half Native American and all cowboy, Shane's heritage is evidenced in his artwork and the books he has written. He began his artistic career more than fifty years ago and his bronzes and story papers are reflective of the narratives he has written. He also hand crafts beautiful silver beads, buckles, and other unique items. Barbee is a tiny woman with a long red braid who can outwork most men I know. She spends her days working with the horses and cattle and making sure the genetic lines they have developed over the years stay true.  Sometimes you can find her running a piece of heavy equipment while clearing the land of cedar and prickly pear. She is Shane’s greatest encourager and inspiration when it comes to his writing and art. I met the Beers a couple of years ago, when Shane decided it was time to immortalize his stories in audible format. I’m sure glad he did, because that's how I entered into the Children of the Horns cast of characters as the voice of Sairy.  Children of the Horns is a book series that follows the life of young Mr. Davis and his family, and Sairy, the girl that lives on the adjacent ranch and becomes the audience for his stories when they meet up on the 30 mile fence that divides their worlds. Shane's work is inspired by nature's stillness and his Native American heritage. He believes that art and creativity are essential to our lives, and he's passionate about sharing his work with the world. "My artistic career began in 1969. I had instruction and direction from Native American Potter, Dawna Gatewood, and Native American Silversmith, Clarence Sousa. Through their ancient eyes and those of my family I called the “brown people”, I inherited a unique perspective on life and the experiences to come. This unique perspective enabled me to capture the essence of the land and my people’s culture in artwork. My artwork reflects my experiences and people’s culture. My pieces are inspired by the land, my people’s history and my own journey." - R Shane Beer To learn more about Shane and Barbee Beer and to view and purchase his artwork and the Children of the Horns audiobooks, visit: https://rsbeerart.com/ [https://rsbeerart.com/] Thanks for stopping by! Remember... Your life is a story. Make it a good one! Find Lorena at: https://atexasgirltalks.com/ [https://atexasgirltalks.com/] https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/ [https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/] https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY [https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY] https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/ [https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/]

Joshua Johnson - The story of how his spiritual transformation led him to establish Bars From Behind Bars; a ministry designed to help the worldwide incarcerated population find freedom through creative expression.

Send a text [https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2346373/open_sms] Bars From Behind Bars is a ministry founded by Joshua Johnson, a seven times convicted felon, whose life was changed when he surrendered his life to Jesus Christ. As Josh adjusted to life as a believer living "behind the walls", he recognized that having an avenue to express creativity that inspires change was, for himself and others, an integral part of healing and change.  During my interview with Josh, he shared some of his own preferred medium of expression which is spoken word poetry combined with his long-time passion for Hip Hop. His writing has evolved over the years, reflecting the changes in his heart and mind.   The mission of Bars From Behind Bars is "To give the worldwide incarcerated population a voice and platform to create content that inspires change".  It's a big vision and Josh is planting a seed of faith in the prison yard with the confidence that God will grow it into a mighty tree with branches reaching far beyond those walls.  To learn more about the ministry or to reach out to Josh, visit https://barsfrombehindbars.com/ [https://barsfrombehindbars.com/] . You can also find the written lyrics to Josh's Poetry and view a variety of creative expression from other incarcerated artists.  https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564671054749&sk=about [https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564671054749&sk=about] https://www.linkedin.com/in/joshua-johnson-224189283/ [https://www.linkedin.com/in/joshua-johnson-224189283/] Thanks for stopping by! Remember... Your life is a story. Make it a good one! Find Lorena at: https://atexasgirltalks.com/ [https://atexasgirltalks.com/] https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/ [https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/] https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY [https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY] https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/ [https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/]

Visiting My Ancestry - The Story of Tom and Buena Davis, Part 3

Send a text [https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2346373/open_sms] Papa Davis had loved all kinds of game birds and a pair of Peafowl hung around the driveway beyond the yard fence. The flashy male would strut and call out as he spread his vivid tail for the benefit of his plainer mate. She was not the only one intrigued by the display. I just knew a thing of such intense chromatic delight would be much more satisfying to hold than a brown chicken! Stephen and I hung over the rock fence and watched them as temptation simmered in my soul. The rule was, “stay in the yard unless you have permission to leave it.” The problem was, the birds had a much larger range than I did and they were currently outside of it. The solution was to either lure them into the yard or come up with a reason to leave that would be acceptable to my mother, should I not make it back into the yard before I was seen.  Not having anything on hand that would tempt the birds to fly over the wall, I  studied the male until I was sure that he had a slight limp and had probably injured himself in some way. Since I planned to become a veterinarian when I grew up, it seemed only reasonable that I should check him out and alert the adults if he needed medical attention. Telling Stephen to stay put, I shimmed up one side of the wall and down the other, and slowly approached my target. He didn’t seemed especially alarmed, simply lowering his tail and walking slowly away from me. But the more I closed in, the faster he walked. Experience had taught me that a chicken, once it realizes it is caught, will go very still and let itself be carried around with a kind of resignation. This encounter would teach me that not all Peacocks are not at all like chickens. Papa’s absence left a big hole in my joy. I found comfort in touching his things, digging through the contents of the big roll top desk he used to sit at as he figured books and going with Dad in the old Willis Jeep to check the livestock. We were all a little lost, I’m sure. Mom had not planned on raising a family in the isolation of a remote west Texas ranch. She had enjoyed their life in town where friends and conveniences were close at hand. Dad was trying hard to earn a living teaching school while keeping up with the constant demands of dipping, shearing and feeding the sheep and goats, mending fence, spraying prickly pear and a multitude of other demands of ranch life. Mama Davis never recovered her joy after losing Papa. It was like her last candle was snuffed out and she had not intention of looking for a flame capable of relighting it. I wonder if she thought of those early days as she grieved. Of the times when the future looked like one big, glorious stretch of open road taking them wherever they decided to go. Did those memories take the edge off the pain or hone it to a finer cutting edge? Was she able to cover over the recent memories of Papa’s final excruciating days as the cancer chewed it’s way through his pancreas and she spoon fed him baby food from a jar because it was the only thing he could get down?  I hope she got there. To the place where the grief had softer edges and the good memories developed a sharper focus.  Thanks for stopping by! Remember... Your life is a story. Make it a good one! Find Lorena at: https://atexasgirltalks.com/ [https://atexasgirltalks.com/] https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/ [https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/] https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY [https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY] https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/ [https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/]

Visiting My Ancestry - The Story of Tom and Buena Davis - Part 2

Send a text [https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/2346373/open_sms] As a child, I never stopped to wonder about what my grandparent’s lives were like before I came into the world. A kid’s perspective is shortsighted and naturally selfish; the walls of my perception hadn’t expanded beyond the boundaries of my wishes. In my eyes, my grandparents were suspended in time. They had always been and would always be exactly as they were, even as my brother and I celebrated birthdays and the pencil markings on the door frame testified to our growth.  As an adult, long after they had both passed from this world, I stumbled upon a door to the past in the form of a bundle of letters, tied with a faded pink ribbon and buried in the bottom of Mama Davis’s cedar chest. The story of how the chest came to me is for another time, but it was the catalyst for the stories I’m sharing now. This dusty chest had quietly stood sentinel over a collection of memories and family records that bore tribute to the resilience and faith of the family I am descended from. Scrapbooks and photo albums, trinkets and journals gave up information long forgotten.  The particulars blended to form a documentary of their lives in my heart and soul.  Walter Lee (Tom) Davis began courting Buena Vista Irene Hogget in early 1919. At this time, she was in Arizona, although she lived in Junction, which lies about 58 east of Sonora. I do not know the story of how they met; the scene opens for me with the first preserved love letter from Tom to Buena. Mama and Papa Davis began their life together in one of the most tumultuous years in our nation’s history. I believe they learned early on that life is to cherished and appreciated and that good times and terrible times come to us all,  forming us, as we allow them to, into good or terrible people, depending on Who and what we lean on in those times. Thanks for stopping by! Remember... Your life is a story. Make it a good one! Find Lorena at: https://atexasgirltalks.com/ [https://atexasgirltalks.com/] https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/ [https://www.instagram.com/lorena_belcher_voice_over/] https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY [https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558534989633&locale=ms_MY] https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/ [https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorena-belcher-vo-b04ab1151/]