Open Range

A recent PBS TV program, a 2 year photo chronicle of a small band of wild horses in Montana, brought to mind the many times I had seen wild horses running free when traveling across the country. For some period of time after WWII, the country remained as it was before Pearl Harbor although at the war’s end, an all out effort to regain a peace time economy seeped into every facet of living.

The highway system at that time was basically a series of two lane roads connecting east and west, north and south. The west was open range country meaning there were no fences to prevent animals from crossing, walking or sleeping on the highway. It could be quite dangerous, especially when driving at night. Automobiles had only mechanical brakes and seat belts had not been invented yet. Rounding a curve at 60 miles per hour to see deer, or cattle standing in the middle of the highway only yards in front of your vehicle was a heart stopper to say the least!

Cross country travel by plane was not yet available; one chose car, bus or train. If driving and having to cross the desert, you did so at night. Departure was timed to put as many miles behind you as possible in darkness to avoid the searing heat of day. Canvas bags of water were hung on car bumpers for emergencies. Engines often over heated or fan belts broke. Prudent drivers carried ‘extras’ to cope in various situations. In the western states, towns and gas stations were few and far between. ‘Last chance’ signs on the outskirts of a town warning how many miles to the next gas stop were duly noted, rarely ignored.

Day time traffic was very light. One could drive for hundreds of miles and see only trains passing in the distance, but in the desert areas at night one would frequently see the headlights of oncoming or passing vehicles.

Traveling from west to east, scenic views comprised mountains, forests, desert and prairie. The rolling hills of Midwestern farming lands gradually gave way to towns that were increasingly nearer to each other and which eventually blended into the congestion of the great cities of New York and Philadelphia. About the second or third day on the road, one began thinking of the pioneers crossing the same landscapes but in covered wagons. We counted our blessings at the easy way we traveled compared to the hardships endured by those early settlers. It was easier, but at times tedious.

Calculations based on the visual distance of mountains were misleading. After hours of steady driving, a highway could become a monotonous ribbon narrowing to a vanishing point on the horizon. Sometimes shimmering heat mirages were projections that kept pace a few yards in front of the car disappearing only when the sun set or it rained.

The excitement of unexpected happenings during a cross country trip outweighed the boredom that sometimes crept into attitudes resulting from longs hours of sitting. Spotting a band of wild horses brought a pleasure that was twice observed; first, our surprise and delight in seeing and driving past them; second, talking about them after they were long out of sight. Occasionally we would come across the history of a particular band when we stopped at a road side café and asked about the photographs of horses and framed newspaper clippings on the wall. We took for granted that our trips would always be enlivened by seeing horses running wild, but the development of the national highway system and the ever expansion of cities and freeway businesses plus the loss of open range relegates those days to the past.

Weather and Climate Change

Global warming is certainly playing havoc with the weather! Drought, floods and heat are bringing misery to thousands. Wild fires, torrential rains, and extreme temperatures make news every day. I’ve experienced temperatures of 117 degrees which lasted several days when l lived in Palo Alto, California a few years ago, but the 128 reading in Las Vegas only days ago is a staggering record. Death Valley often records phenomenal temperatures in the 130 plus range, but as wags like to remark, “it’s a dry heat”….add a little moisture and you get a Texas summer.

In my phone and computer chats, weather conditions dominate the conversations. We compare temperatures, the cost of running the AC, and whether or not the streets are flooded where we live. Occasionally I phone Mesa Tessa to get a currant weather report from her ‘spread’ in Arizona.

In thinking of ways to conserve energy, I’m reminded that before air conditioning there were shade trees, hand held paper fans and porches with swings where one might catch a breeze however slight.

Porches are almost a thing of the past; worry about mosquitoes carrying West Nile virus causes one to forego the pleasure of rocking in a porch swing as the summer moon rises. Porches can certainly play a part in saving energy though. There is nothing like sitting in a porch swing, whiling away a hot afternoon and sipping cold lemonade. Two of the houses the family lived in had screened sleeping porches. The Victorian house in Iowa had one on the second floor. The Sky Ranch in California had a wrap around screened porch, one section given over to a row of beds, dormitory style, where anyone choosing to sleep outdoors could do so. The fragrance of the redwoods and the night time sounds of rustling leaves was the only sleeping potion needed for a good nights sleep.

Fans are electric these days. Hand held fans are no longer given away free as advertising gifts. Small individual battery fans replace the pleated Spanish fans that fold with a snap of the wrist.

Several years ago, my sister, Adeline, and I wanted to get some Spanish fans. She and I combed the malls near and far without luck. On our drive north to Mt. View, California to visit family we took a driving break and browsed a Pier One shop. In a dark corner at the back of the store we found a bin full of Spanish fans, all colors. Many were broken and of no use but the two of us bought the remaining ones. I got 7 or 8 and Adeline got the same. I gave half of mine away but those I kept have been repaired several times by trimming the white priority mailing envelopes from the Post Office to fit the fan shape and gluing it to the colored paper. Every time I use one I think of Adeline and our adventure in finding them.

Before moving to Houston, picnicking on hot summer days at the Louisiana tourist bureau and rest stop across the Texas line was always a welcome relief from stifling heat. Elevated wooden walkways circle thru the Cypress trees allowing one to look down into the backwaters of the Gulf and see rare plants and flowers native to the area.

Here in Houston there is a mesmerizing water sculpture. It’s a semi circular wall, 65 feet tall with 11,000 gallons of water per minute cascading down the sides; a most impressive sight! I enjoy going there after a scorching hot day. Lights illuminate the water from underneath and, if there is a breeze, a mist from the water fall rides the draft and creates a net over hair and clothes as you walk from one end of the wall to the other. A park of oak trees lies between the wall and the Williams Tower, owner of the wall.

Television programs on climate conditions and global warming leave me bewildered. I become enmeshed in a cycle of sympathy about what’s happening over yonder, thankful it’s not in my back yard and feeling guilty that I’m lackadaisical about saving the planet.

I HAVE replaced incandescent light bulbs with fluorescent and the new energy saving spiral bulbs. I promise not to buy any more Styrofoam plates and bowls after I use the ones I have on hand.

Sometimes I wonder what life will be like for future generations. Will earth warming be so drastic that humans won’t survive? They say anything that can be imagined can be done. If that’s so, people may live with blessings and curses. There’s bound to be medical breakthroughs and scientific discoveries, inventions of labor saving devices to ease the drudgery of work, possibly more time for pursuit of happiness, and a greater understanding of the universe. But there may also be a greater disparity between those who have and those who haven’t and the idea of a peaceful life may be at a premium paid for only by war and violence.
It’s tempting to think wonderful things will come to pass like an unending supply of energy for all of humanities’ needs, and travel to and from other planets. I don’t seriously believe it will ever happen. If the predictions of drastic climate change actually occur, however many years in the future, humanity will face catastrophic conditions just to survive.

Green Tea

Lipton’s bottled green tea with citrus flavoring, (diet style), is my favorite summer drink. I buy it by the case and drink numerous bottles of iced tea throughout the day and evening. Lately I’ve heard on the TV news that many cities are banning the use of plastic bottles for water because they damage the environment and overwhelm the land fills. The cost of producing and delivering them requires exorbitant amounts of energy and money. The same applies to the bottles used for my tea. The bulk of my own garbage consists mainly of empty plastic bottles; consequently, I’ve decided not to buy any more bottled tea. I’ll go back to brewing tea the old fashioned way.

I switched to green tea several years ago when it became a ‘must’ for good health, but I grew up in a household that only used Orange Pekoe. I remember a green tea incident caused by my younger sister, Adeline when we were around 8 or 9 years old. Mom used to let us take turns telephoning in the grocery order for home delivery. I never deviated from the list, but Adeline often added items. I don’t remember a fuss being made over the fact, probably because the items were of little consequence like the tin of corned beef she ordered because she wanted to taste it.

On this particular day, disregarding Mom’s tea preference, Adeline ordered a large box of green tea instead of the usual. The groceries came in the last delivery of the day and it was too late to re-order. There was a lot of fussing and fuming because no one liked green tea, iced or otherwise. That box of green tea remained in the cupboard for years and I doubt a cup was ever brewed.

In those halcyon days of my early childhood we had deliveries of all manner of goods. Groceries were delivered twice daily. The morning delivery was around 11 if the list had been phoned in by 10 and the afternoon delivery around 4 if the list was called in by 3 pm.

Milk was delivered to the front door step every morning. There was a standing order of so many quarts and so much cream, but when extra whipping cream or milk was needed, a note was left sticking out of the empty milk bottles which were put outside at night for the milk man to pick up the next morning. A farm woman delivered eggs and chickens.


The doctor made house calls whenever someone was sick or had an accident. In case of accident, the doctor came as quickly as he could, but if there was illness, he would see the patient on his daily rounds, or according to the seriousness of the illness. The doctor had patients scattered throughout the farming area as well as residents of the town so we never knew exactly when the doctor would come, only that he would.

The cleaners had pick up and delivery of laundry and dry cleaning although my family only sent the dry cleaning out to be done. The laundry was done at home.


The mail was delivered to the house twice a day, morning and afternoon. When a letter was ready for mailing, someone would ask if the mailman had gone by, hoping to get the letter in the mail that day.


A daily newspaper came every afternoon, but the printer had an advertiser paper with household items for sale, that was delivered once a week.

Ice was delivered every other day. A sign in the window would let the ice man know how much ice was needed. All the neighborhood kids liked to chase the ice truck and beg slivers of ice. It was great fun to chew gum and ice at the same time but the gum was often accidentally swallowed. The iceman always predicted dire happenings and gave warnings about chewing ice and gum at the same time, but he never seemed too worried and continued to give tiny chunks of ice to all the kids.

We even had a candy delivery. There was a woman who came regularly to take orders for butter brickle she made herself and would deliver on the dates Mom chose.

At the beginning of cold weather, the folks always had two large wooden barrels of apples delivered. They would last thru the winter and I made many trips to the apple barrels when Mom wanted to bake some for supper or they were wanted for after school munchies.