dueling banjos and homemade moonshine
two important parts of my world have converged today and shown me how small and insignificant i am. i hate it when that happens.
i am a texan. if i understand correctly, the first members of my family to move to texas did so in the early 1860's. i believe i am a 7th generation texan. one of my progenitors is john c. hill. he came to wimberley in the latter 19th century as a fugitive. he was wanted in arkansas for horse thievery ;and, promptly packed up, changed his name, and moved to the lawless country of central texas. to his credit, he changed his life, as well as his name, and became a respectable member of the fledgling community of wimberley. he was elected to the first school board in the area and is buried in the wimberley cemetery. a few years ago, charlotte gave me a great gift. it's a map of hays county produced by the general land office. it shows ownership of all the parcels of land in the county as constituted in september 1877. there are about a dozen names on the map i recognize as my progenitors. i'm from here, i love it here, and i'm not going anywhere. my wife's story is similar, though her family got here earlier than mine.
i read. i watch. i also listen, think, talk, and wonder. i like to know things. there is not much that shames me more than to be completely ignorant on a given subject. there are endless subjects wherein these opportunities are available, but it ticks me off every time. i seek knowledge and understanding for knowledge's sake; but, i also try to be informed so i can make a judgment based on something other than arbitrary grasping.
the perfect storm: jackson has always been taught to get rid of toys when new ones are coming. our house is not big, and we don't have the room. more to the point- he doesn't need one of every toy; especially when it comes to things that are never used, and won't be missed. we usually take these toys down to a local resale shop. it is a form of recycling, and he gets some money to save and spend. today we traded in some toys and ended up bringing home some cash- and some dominoes.
growing up where i did, i learned to play two kinds of domino games : domino and 42. it took a while to really learn 42, as the older generation wouldn't allow us kids anywhere near these highly-revered symbols of the days past. i was in my late , late teens before i was ever invited to sit. but, i was, and i learned to love the game. domino is easier. even a yokel from arkansas can figure out how to count high enough to play this simple game, while "blind nello" and "84" are terms that would cause your average razorback to run home to the matrimonial arms of his sister and the familiar aroma of cooter pie cooking in the oven. jackson's great- great grandmother polly has been playing domino with him for about a year, now ; and, we decided it was time for jackson to own his own set of "bones." ok. not bones, but a cheap set of plastic dominoes appropriate for a 5 year old.
jackson and i got home from the toy store , removed the cellophane from his new dominoes, and spilled them on the floor. after jackson shuffled the dominoes, we each chose our allotment of seven. i had to look twice as i saw that several of mine had 7, 8, or 9 marks on one end. what in the heck?! dominoes come in denominations this high? that danged john c. hill ! that hillbilly couldn't count to 9, so he taught his family to use the arkansas-made version that only go up to 6. boy, do i feel dumb. what else is out there that is going to completely befuddle me one day? man, i hate this feeling.
i am a texan. if i understand correctly, the first members of my family to move to texas did so in the early 1860's. i believe i am a 7th generation texan. one of my progenitors is john c. hill. he came to wimberley in the latter 19th century as a fugitive. he was wanted in arkansas for horse thievery ;and, promptly packed up, changed his name, and moved to the lawless country of central texas. to his credit, he changed his life, as well as his name, and became a respectable member of the fledgling community of wimberley. he was elected to the first school board in the area and is buried in the wimberley cemetery. a few years ago, charlotte gave me a great gift. it's a map of hays county produced by the general land office. it shows ownership of all the parcels of land in the county as constituted in september 1877. there are about a dozen names on the map i recognize as my progenitors. i'm from here, i love it here, and i'm not going anywhere. my wife's story is similar, though her family got here earlier than mine.
i read. i watch. i also listen, think, talk, and wonder. i like to know things. there is not much that shames me more than to be completely ignorant on a given subject. there are endless subjects wherein these opportunities are available, but it ticks me off every time. i seek knowledge and understanding for knowledge's sake; but, i also try to be informed so i can make a judgment based on something other than arbitrary grasping.
the perfect storm: jackson has always been taught to get rid of toys when new ones are coming. our house is not big, and we don't have the room. more to the point- he doesn't need one of every toy; especially when it comes to things that are never used, and won't be missed. we usually take these toys down to a local resale shop. it is a form of recycling, and he gets some money to save and spend. today we traded in some toys and ended up bringing home some cash- and some dominoes.
growing up where i did, i learned to play two kinds of domino games : domino and 42. it took a while to really learn 42, as the older generation wouldn't allow us kids anywhere near these highly-revered symbols of the days past. i was in my late , late teens before i was ever invited to sit. but, i was, and i learned to love the game. domino is easier. even a yokel from arkansas can figure out how to count high enough to play this simple game, while "blind nello" and "84" are terms that would cause your average razorback to run home to the matrimonial arms of his sister and the familiar aroma of cooter pie cooking in the oven. jackson's great- great grandmother polly has been playing domino with him for about a year, now ; and, we decided it was time for jackson to own his own set of "bones." ok. not bones, but a cheap set of plastic dominoes appropriate for a 5 year old.
jackson and i got home from the toy store , removed the cellophane from his new dominoes, and spilled them on the floor. after jackson shuffled the dominoes, we each chose our allotment of seven. i had to look twice as i saw that several of mine had 7, 8, or 9 marks on one end. what in the heck?! dominoes come in denominations this high? that danged john c. hill ! that hillbilly couldn't count to 9, so he taught his family to use the arkansas-made version that only go up to 6. boy, do i feel dumb. what else is out there that is going to completely befuddle me one day? man, i hate this feeling.
posted by cm at 10/25/2005
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