Mike's Seedbed

Christmas Memories

2011-12-19T12:53:00.011-06:00

Well, here it is almost Christmas! I'm looking forward to spending time with my family. My sons and grandsons will be here. We will be having our traditional Christmas Eve celebration (which includes opening the presents!) at my mom's house in Helena, Oklahoma, this year. Then we'll go to Church on Christmas Day.

One of the Christmas Day traditions that arose with my boys was the tradition of Christmas stockings. My wider family (on the LeCrone side) always opened the presents on Christmas Eve. When my boys were born TJ and I wanted them to have something to open on Christmas morning, so the stocking tradition was born. On Christmas mornings Mikey and Miles would wake up to find their stockings filled with fun but inexpensive things: Candy, Apples, Oranges, pencils and pens, small toys, and things like that. Now that we have added a daughter-in-law and two grandsons, there are seven stockings that are hung up awaiting whatever "Santa" might bring. Actually, there are eight stockings: there is a tiny one for Nuch the Pomeranian. Santa always brings him Vienna Sausages. When Bandit Lou Kear was still around, he always got tennis balls, which he would gleefully unwrap all by himself, leaving the wrapping paper in shreds all over the floor.

I have some wonderful, warm memories of Christmases as a child. I can remember celebrating Christmas on the LeCrone farm south of Helena, Oklahoma. I vaguely remember a Christmas there when I was three or four. When I was five, I remember getting a toy gun and a pair of "moon shoes" that bounced when you wore them. I bounced around the farm shooting invisible outlaws from space. There weren't too many kids my age around the farm in the early sixties. My sister Cindy was still a baby. I had a lot of fun playing with my cousin Teddy who was a year younger than me. I well remember the time on the farm when Teddy peed on the electric fence. He got a whole new perspective on life that day. We used to have some great adventures exploring the farm and pretending we were cowboys or that we were fishing for sharks from the old windmill. Sadly, Teddy passed away on Christmas day in 1994.

My aunt Linda was only eight years older than me and she would play with me sometimes. I still remember when Pa got the first television set. They were a long way from any TV stations and so he had to put up a large antenna on the top of the house. Before he got it put up it was laying in the yard. Linda and I hooked ropes to it and pretended it was a team of horses, pulling our stagecoach through the west. One Christmas, when there was a very deep snow, Linda and I went walking down the country road that went by the farm house. You couldn't really see where the road was or where the ditches began. I remember walking off a bridge and sinking over my head in snow. Linda had to fish me out.

One of my favorite Christmas memories was when we lived in Weslaco, Texas. I was ten or eleven. I begged for months for a Daisy BB Gun. On Christmas, Mom and Dad decided they'd have some fun and switched the names on the gifts for Cindy and me. But we must have had some kind of insight, because when they handed those gifts to us we promptly exchanged them with each other before we tore them open. We just knew. Man, I had some great fun with that BB gun. However, I did shoot Cindy at least twice with it. My bad.

I also remember the time when Cindy got the Suzy Homemaker Oven. Even then, so many years ago, she could cook. She would get so mad at me when, after she'd slaved all day over a hot oven, I'd devour her entire Suzy Homemaker cake in about two seconds. She wanted everbody to have a bite of her luscious goodies, but I would eat an entire cake or pie in two bites. My bad, again.

One Christmas memory that always makes my family laugh happened not too many years ago. Every year during the Christmas season I would take my guitar and a few volunteers and go to the local nursing home to sing Christmas carols to the old folks. One year the volunteers that came with me included my parents and my brother and sister and most of the rest of my family and a pretty good sized group from Church. As the old folks assembled for the carolling and as I started to get out my guitar, one old lady in a wheelchair began to heckle me.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's my guitar," I replied.

"You're not going to play that, are you?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" I reply merrily, "We're going to sing Christmas carols."

"Please don't," she says.

"Why not? Don't you want to hear some Christmas music?"

"Not from you," she replies.

"But it's Christmas music," I try to reason.

"For the love of God, put that thing up," she says, gesturing at the guitar.

I start tuning up the guitar and try to ignore her. But she won't be ignored. She starts getting louder and louder.

"Please stop that! No one here wants to hear that noise!"

My Dad and my brother are now laughing at me.

"Oh, God, make him stop!"

Others join in the laughter.

I strike a chord on the guitar and the old lady screams out, "Dear God! What have I done to deserve this torture?"

Dad and Davy have doubled over in laughter.

"Pleeeeeeeease Jeeeeeesus!" she screams, "Make this torment stop!"

I'm sweating profusely at this point.

"Sweeeet Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesus! Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhh!!!!!"

Dad and Davy are now crying, they are laughing so hard. The rest of the Church group and my family are having a great time at my expense. It didn't seem all that funny to me at the moment. Heh.

Finally a nurse came and rolled my 100 year old heckler away so the singing could commence.

When it comes to sensory bombardment, you can't do better than a Christmas in New Mexico. Some of my favorite Christmases were when I worked at Central United Methodist Church, the big church across the street from UNM in Albuquerque. The Church would have four or five different Christmas programs on Christmas Eve, ending up with a Midnight service. This involved a lot of labor. I had a big crew working for me that would change settings for every program. When my boys got old enough, they would come and help me work these services as part of my crew. One year, my brother Davy came out to visit for Christmas and I hired him to help us on Christmas Eve. At one point I had him running a vacuum in the narthex between services. He was very happy to report that if the people loitered too long after a service, he was able to move them along by running over their feet with the vacuum cleaner. Nice.

There was something amazing about walking out of that old church at 2 a.m. on a cold Christmas morning and driving home (which was 45 miles away) through a quiet and still New Mexico night. The sky would exhibit a clarity rarely seen as the stars shone with a brightness that seemed impossible. The luminarias (or farolitos) lined the drives and walks of the homes, awaiting the coming of the Christ Child and lighting His way. The scent of piñon pine burning in the fireplaces of the adobe homes, warming the hearts of those within, was intoxicating. We would sing Christmas carols all the way home, my tired boys and me. And when we got home TJ would have hot chocolate waiting for us. Then we'd go to bed and sleep that peaceful sleep that comes when all is well. In the morning there would be neat stuff in the stockings and toys to play with.

Above all else, Christmas is a message. Christmas tells us that no matter what is happening in our lives or in the world, that all will be well. The incarnation of Christ is not only the hope, but the assurance that we are headed not for ultimate disaster, but for ultimate peace. The truth of that ultimate peace awaits each of us deep in our own hearts. And as we experience it personally, we also know for certain that it must be shared. And the sharing of that message of peace is truly joy to the world!

Edric's 5th Birthday

2010-03-04T11:00:00.003-06:00

The Great Snow of 2010

2010-01-30T11:42:00.001-06:00

The abominable snow Nuch

Nuchy's adventure into the vast frozen yard.

Snow

These drifts are deep!

Can we go in now?

Ashton's 10th B-day Party (cont.)

2010-01-25T11:31:00.002-06:00

Ashton's 10th Birthday Party

2010-01-25T11:27:00.001-06:00

Christmas 2009 Pics 4

2009-12-25T10:46:00.003-06:00

Waking up to Stockings!

Mikey looks like an ascetic, no?

Ashton gets a prehistoric shark tooth fossil

TJ and her sunflower art made by Lisa

Christmas 2009 Pics 3

2009-12-25T10:36:00.002-06:00

Edric and Ashton the Night Before Christmas

Waking up Christmas Morning to open stockings

Jenean gets her "Walmart bag" stocking from Mikey

Nuchy enjoys his Christmas present...

...and waits for more!

Christmas 2009 Pics 2

2009-12-25T10:27:00.003-06:00

Mike loving Lisa's artwork

Ashton gets a genuine fossil

Mikey, Matt and Jenean

Sissy was Santa this year

Edric gets a Trio

Christmas 2009 Pics

2009-12-25T10:20:00.002-06:00

Lisa

Ashton

Matt helps Edric open a present

Ashton and Edric

Pee Pee Ites

2009-12-16T12:32:00.002-06:00

When I was a baby, just learning to talk, my parents would drive around the city looking at all the Christmas decorations, manger scenes, and the many lights that had been put up. Apparently this activity made me really happy as an infant. In fact I'm still easily distracted by shiny objects.

As Dad drove through the neighborhoods, my mother would say to me, "Look at the pretty, pretty lights!"

My eyes would grow big and I would exclaim, "Pee pee ites!"

All through the season, my parents felt compelled to explain to both relatives and strangers just what I meant when I blurted out, "Pee pee ites!"

This became one of those phrases that grows into general family use through the years. During the holiday season, one adult might say to another in my family, "You want to go see the pee pee ites?"

In our neighborhood there are a several homes that have pee pee ites up. Thre's one that has a huge OU in bright crimson on their roof. You can probably see it from space. I guess we know who they'll be rooting for in the Sun Bowl. A couple of blocks over there's another home with a bright orange OSU in their yard. Go Pokes! Beat Ole Miss in the Cotton Bowl!

If you get a chance, take your kids out for a walk or a drive and look at the pee pee ites. Make some memories.

Me and My Mama

2009-12-08T12:46:00.002-06:00

Isn't this a great picture?

Me and Mama in New Mexico.

Dig Those Boots

2009-12-08T12:40:00.004-06:00

Another pic from New Mexico. Linda's holding on to me and I'm holding on to Teddy. Don't you love how Uncle Ted and I both have on our sleeveless western shirts and cowboy boots?

(These New Mexico pics are from my Aunt Lila LeCrone, click for a bigger view)

Way Out in New Mexico

2009-12-07T19:10:00.002-06:00

Left to right: Grandma LeCrone, Linda LeCrone Wiggins, Teddy LeCrone, Jr., Ted LeCrone, Sr., Michael Kear, Patty LeCrone Kear

Thanksgiving Pics - 4

2009-11-28T11:10:00.002-06:00

Thanksgiving Pics - 3

2009-11-28T11:07:00.001-06:00

Thanksgiving Pics - 2

2009-11-28T10:59:00.003-06:00

Thanksgiving Pics - 1

2009-11-28T10:52:00.003-06:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-25T11:26:00.000-06:00

Wishing all My Family and Friends

A Very Happy Thanksgiving!

We have so very much to be thankful for.

Let's Make Some New Memories.

Be safe as you travel!

God Bless You!

Miles the Cowboy

2009-11-04T13:48:00.006-06:00

The Boots

The Hat

The Man

Scary Halloween Stuff!

2009-10-31T18:55:00.008-05:00

Ashton & Edric

Dustin & Cat

Lisa & Matt

Ashton & Edric

Scary Lisa

Count Gregore & Oklahoma Elvira

Ashton, Grandma & Edric in the Parade

Mt. Rushmore

2009-10-29T10:27:00.000-05:00

At Mt. Rushmore. I wish I was this skinny again.

This Photo Proves Two Things

2009-10-27T13:49:00.004-05:00

1. Five years ago I was skinny.

2. I was once a bouncer at a bar in Chadron, Nebraska.
Not everybody can say that.

Daddy's Little Cowboys

2009-10-16T13:11:00.004-05:00

<- Mikey in Fairview

Miles in Ponca City ->

Mike and Daddy, 1961

2009-10-15T10:31:00.003-05:00

Here's a pic of me and Dad in Albuquerque in 1961. I wonder what was on my father's mind at that time? 23 years old. A brand new family and job and his whole life ahead of him. He looks excited and expectant - not to mention cool. Life sure flies by fast. Be sure to tell the people you love that you love them!

National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum

2009-10-07T14:32:00.008-05:00

Mike at The End of the Trail. The sculpture is 18' tall and weighs 4 tons.

TJ at Canyon Princess. This 16,000-pound sculpture is carved from a single block of Colorado yule marble. Nice kitty.

Ben Johnson Memorial.

TJ and Friend.

Mike visits with Mr. Lincoln.

TJ at the entrance.

If you've never been there, The National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City is absolutely worth the trip. The museum will take at least an afternoon to enjoy. They display our western heritage from many vantage points. You can see a history of the trail drives or the pioneers or the early western movies or the wild west shows, etc. We were able to view many original paintings by Remington and Russell as well as many other fine artists. The museum has displays dedicated to people such as John Wayne (you can see the actual rifle he carried in Stagecoach and True Grit - not to mention that famous eye-patch!). There's a fine restaurant and a movie theater, a wonderful section of Native American art and history and a gift shop as well.

LeCrone Family Reunion 2009

2009-10-04T18:49:00.004-05:00

Mom took this pic of us at the LeCrone family reunion in Goltry, Oklahoma.
Today was also Matty's 25th birthday.
We sang Happy Birthday to him and he blew out a bic lighter.

Canning Fresh Jalapeño Peppers

2009-09-19T10:13:00.006-05:00

We canned about 5-6 pounds of fresh jalapeño peppers yesterday. My pictures aren't very good, but I'm hoping the peppers are! Ended up with about 10 jars. They'll be ready in 3 or 4 weeks.

The top jar is plain jalapeños with a few carrot slices thrown in. The bottom two are honeyed jalapeños (I used both red and green)

Plain jalapeño peppers with carrots.

Honeyed jalapeños. Instead of white vinegar, I used apple cider vinegar with honey and sweet pickle spices. Sweet and hot (like me!).

Grandma Whiteman

2009-09-13T19:37:00.004-05:00

Today, TJ and I spent the afternoon visiting Frances Whiteman in Lahoma, Oklahoma, whom we have known for well over three decades. My best friend in high school was Nathan Whiteman and Frances is his mom. By virtue of hanging out with Nathan at his house, Frances Whiteman became "Mom" Whiteman to me. After I was married and had kids she became "Grandma" Whiteman. It's kind of funny that I've always called her Mom or Grandma, but I called her late husband "Uncle" Leo. Uncle Leo taught me lots of old songs that he played on the harmonica. I used to bring over my guitar and he'd get out his box of harps and we'd jam. I remember playing "The Old Irish Washer Woman" and "The Wreck of the Old 97" with him. He taught me to play two songs on the harmonica: "Camptown Races" and "When the Saints Go Marching In." They are still the only songs I can play on the harmonica.

Grandma Whiteman is a spiritual Mother in Israel and we always feel refreshed after visiting with her. She is a person whose faith is real and whose life is lived on the basis of that faith. Even at nearly 88 years of age she is still active in prison ministry. I remember once when I was 16 years old and spending the night with Nathan and we were discussing religion. I wanted to know about the Holy Spirit and Nathan said that his Mom knew all about the Holy Spirit. So we went in at about 2 in the morning and woke her up so I could ask her about the Holy Ghost. I will always remember how sweetly she described the ministry of the Holy Spirit in her life.

Labor Day Hiking the Gloss Mountains

2009-09-07T19:09:00.010-05:00

(Click the Pics for a Giant View)

Panorama

Mike

Great View

TJ Peers Over the Edge

Lone Peak

The Sphinx

Yucca

Edric & Ashton

2009-09-01T19:31:00.010-05:00

Playing on the Tractor

Feeding the Chickens

Today

2009-08-24T16:01:00.001-05:00

is my anniversary. TJ has put up with me for 31 years. She is obviously a saint.

(Love ya, Sweetie!)

Sorry. Here's a Pic.

2009-08-12T14:28:00.002-05:00

I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'll try to do better. Meanwhile, here's a random picture of my mom and her brothers. :)

I Was Born

2009-07-12T07:36:00.001-05:00

I was born at 7:36 a.m. on the 12th day of July, in the year of Our Lord, Nineteen Hundred and Sixty. According to my mother, I nearly died at birth. Due to some complications (which my mother would have to explain), I wasn't breathing. The nurses dipped me in warm water and then in cold in order to make me breathe, as the traditional fanny slap just wouldn't do the trick. But breathe I did, screaming out at the top of my lungs. I haven't shut up since.

I was born in the tiny community of Clayton, New Mexico, about a mile above sea level, about 35 miles south of Colorado and about ten miles from the borders of both the Oklahoma and Texas panhandles. I opened my eyes to the world of the Great Plains. Looking north across those plains, a person could see blues skies and the Rabbit Ears. And that's about it.

I was born to working class parents, Baptists and Wesleyan Methodists who were married in a Pentecostal Holiness church. They were border dwellers of the Hi-Lo country, living in Texline, Texas, but working (and bringing me into the world) in New Mexico. My Dad quit smoking while driving my mother to the hospital for my arrival.

I was born fortunate enough to know all my grandparents and five of my great-grandparents, losing my last grandmother only after I myself had become a grandfather.

I was born on July 12. Which means that I am honored to share my birthday with Julius Caesar, Henry David Thoreau, George Washington Carver, Buckminster Fuller, Pablo Neruda, and Van Cliburn.

I was born nine minutes before the same doctor delivered another baby boy in the same hospital. I have wondered, once or twice, who this other fellow is, nine minutes my junior, and how he's doing in life.

I was born for a reason and a purpose. We all are. One of the great joys in life is in coming to a peace about who you are and why you are here. I'm still on the prowl for the meaning of it all. And perhaps the search for meaning and joy is a good chunk of the point. In Surprised By Joy, C.S. Lewis writes about "..the quality... of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction."

I was born, if for no other reason, for the journey.

For Dad on His Birthday

2009-07-06T12:20:00.003-05:00

Don and Dad

My Dad the Cowboy

2009-06-24T23:20:00.003-05:00

James Kear
Hi-Lo Country of Northeast New Mexico
c. Early 1950s
(click the pic for a bigger view)

Ashton in a Sink

2009-06-18T10:01:00.001-05:00

Ashton takes a bath in the sink.

Ponca City, 2000

Need a Car?

2009-06-04T11:53:00.000-05:00

Anyone Remember This?

2009-05-25T23:13:00.002-05:00

How 'Bout This?

2009-05-25T23:10:00.001-05:00

Or This?

2009-05-25T23:08:00.000-05:00

That Old Dream of Going

2009-05-23T22:09:00.003-05:00

Another place!
it's enough to grieve me -
that old dream of going,
of becoming a better man
just by getting up and going
to a better place.

- Wendell Berry

Lakes & Trees

2009-05-21T13:55:00.005-05:00

Prairie Dog

2009-05-21T13:54:00.000-05:00

The Holy City of the Wichitas

2009-05-21T13:48:00.004-05:00

Quartz Mountains

2009-05-17T23:09:00.003-05:00

The Quartz Mountains north of Altus, Oklahoma.

Visitors in the Camp

2009-05-17T23:03:00.004-05:00

These deer literally ate off our table and out of my hand.

On the Road to Lawton

2009-05-17T22:59:00.006-05:00

We took these pics on the road to Lawton in the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. It was a little slow going with the buffalo in the road. Isn't that calf in the first pic cute?

Tree

2009-05-17T22:54:00.001-05:00

A Tree atop Mount Scott, Oklahoma

Mount Scott

2009-05-17T22:52:00.004-05:00

Mount Scott north of Lawton, Oklahoma in the Wichita Mountains. TJ and I made it to the top!

Another Pic

2009-05-17T22:49:00.001-05:00

A tree growing out of granite on the top of Mount Scott in the Wichita Mountains.

Wichita Mountains from the top of Mount Scott

2009-05-17T22:47:00.001-05:00

Mike in the Wichita Mountains

2009-05-17T22:45:00.002-05:00

Here is Mike in the Wichita Mountains of Southwestern Oklahoma.

Wind Energy

2009-05-17T22:40:00.002-05:00

These wind generators extended for about 10 or 15 miles east to west along a series of hills north of Meers, Oklahoma.

First Pic

2009-05-17T22:37:00.002-05:00

Buffalo at Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge

Vacation

2009-05-14T11:55:00.004-05:00

Me and my sweetie are off on a mini-vacation to the Wichita Mountains. Be back next week! Hopefully with a few good pictures, some food stories, and a cigar review or two.

Nicknames

2009-03-31T19:38:00.002-05:00

I was thinking the other day about nicknames. Most people get one or two over the course of their lives, I'd guess. I can think of four nicknames that people have given me over the years. There may be more, but I can only remember these four so far.

De La Hoz (or Delahose) was my first nickname. It was given to me by my Uncle Don Kear when I was a baby. There was a guy named Mike De La Hoz who either played baseball or was a TV personality or something in Albuquerque at the time I was born, so Uncle Don always called me Delahose. And he still does today.

Poquito was a nickname given to me when I was about 11 years old by the Mexican girls in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas. The Spanish word literally means "little bit," but they said it was because I was such a skinny bones. I can still hear the girls chanting out when we were playing a game of Red Rover: "Red Rover, Red Rover, Let Poquito come over!"

Mick was a nickname I hated. There were two Mikes in my class when I was in the 4th grade, so my teacher decided that he'd call me Mick. Not Michael, but Mick. The name only stuck because my dad decided he wanted to call me Mick the Stick.

Doc was the name I got when I worked at the funeral home. There were two reasons for this nickname. The first was that I'd earned an advanced degree in theology, so my co-workers called me Doc in reference to all that theological mumbo jumbo rattling around in my brain. The second and more important reason was that I had learned most of the dialogue from the movie Tombstone and used the quotes extensively at work. My co-workers loved the parts spoken by Doc Holliday and so...

David H. LeCrone

2009-01-04T13:47:00.006-06:00

David H. LeCrone and Sons

Mom and Carl gave me one of the neatest presents for Christmas. It's an absolutely huge book called Rollin' Along For A Hundred Years: The Centennial History of Helena, Oklahoma, 1904-2004 by Suzanna Sturgeon Yates. When I say it is huge, I mean it. It measures 11.5" x 9" x 1.75", weighs in at (I kid you not) four and a half pounds, and contains 534 pages of history. TJ was a book widow for several days after I got this volume, because I had my nose buried in it constantly.

There's a lot of information about my family's early days in Oklahoma in this book. And it doesn't take long to get to it, either. On page 8, the author quotes from Web Glidewell's account of the Oklahoma Land Run, called "The Run of '93": "There were six in my father's party: D. H. LeCrone, A. W. LeCrone, Z. Brewster, Joe Couch, George Bonham, and himself. These men had all been down in Oklahoma many times on hunting trips and intended to stake claims near Pond Creek because of the railroad... About 4 o'clock in the afternoon, they reached the place west of Pond Creek where they wanted to locate. Each man threw up a small pile of dirt about a foot high, took staves, wrote their names and time of arrival on each of them and put them in the mound of dirt.

"They were tired, thirsty and hungry so they rode into Pond Creek to find their chuck wagon and driver. ... After a good meal of bacon, flap jacks and coffee, they fed and watered the horses and bedded down for the night. This proved to be a mistake as the next morning when they went back to their claims, someone had taken every claim but one. ...rather than stay and contest the claims, [the men] got together the next morning and decided to go on another 25 miles, near to where Helena is now."

David H. LeCrone was my great-great grandfather. A. W. LeCrone was his brother. The claim David LeCrone staked south of Helena was still in the family when I was a kid. My grandfather, Emery F. LeCrone farmed it until I was 6 years old. I remember it very well - especially the cistern, the windmill, the barn and sheds, the outhouse, the snake I found in the front yard, getting stung by a wasp (and getting doctored with chewing tobacco by my great-grandfather, William C. LeCrone - David LeCrone's son - who lived in a mobile home on the property). I remember building and flying kites in the field on the east side of the house with my Uncle Ted and Uncle Bud. And I remember playing Cowboys and Indians with my Aunt Linda, who was only eight years older than me. I remember the skunk in the chicken house and the badger in the yard. I remember the water bucket and dipper and the wooden crank phone on the wall in the kitchen. I remember the upstairs bedrooms. I remember Boots the dog (who bit me for poking at him while he was eating) and great-grandma's mean black cat, Lucifer (or satan, I can never remember what it's name was). I remember Sugar the cow. I also remember getting scalded with hot coffee out on that farm, but that's a story for another time.

In 1894 a Sunday School was started which was attended by David H. LeCrone and his family. This Sunday School became the Presbyterian Church. "Uncle Dave LeCrone (as he was called by many of his friends and neighbors) ....helped to build the church [and] the church was completely paid for when finished. ... Uncle Dave... went to Enid and got the chairs for the church. Returning, Uncle Dave's team ran away and not being able to hold them in the road, he made a big circle and got them under control, not losing a single chair." David H. LeCrone served as one of the first three Elders of the newly-formed Presbyterian Church. He was also one of the founding officers and trustees of Good Hope Cemetery as well as one of the original stockholders of the Bank of Helena.

David H. LeCrone was born in 1849. That means he was 44 years old when he made the land run. He was doing the hard kinds of things in mid-life that most people only contemplate in their youth. That gives great hope to folks like me who are hovering around the mid-century mark and wondering if God still has cool things for us to do.

A Dad Memory

2008-12-31T13:19:00.002-06:00

I am a perpetual student, always looking for the next learning experience. Even at my age I'm constantly puttering about and looking for a course to take in order to continue my theological education.

The other day I had a Dad memory. It was 1992 and both Davy and I were looking into the possibility of enrolling in seminary courses in order to finish our bachelors degrees. Dad listened to our conversation for awhile and then chimed in with, "If you boys are serious about going back to school, I'll pay all your enrollment fees."

That was all it took. Dad paid our enrollment fees and Davy and I both finished our bachelors degrees. We subsequently went on to earn Masters degrees as well, the M.Div. for me and the M.A. in Apologetics for Davy.

Stockings!

2008-12-26T17:21:00.006-06:00

Santa left me Starbucks and a Cohiba!

No, your eyes aren't deceiving you. This is Mikey's face with a smile on it!

Nuchy got Vienna Sausages in his stocking

More Stockings!

2008-12-26T17:13:00.009-06:00

The Night Before Christmas

Christmas Morning!

Christmas Time!

2008-12-26T17:08:00.005-06:00

Happy Boxing Day!

2008-12-26T16:58:00.009-06:00

Christmas Eve Sarajevo

2008-12-07T11:41:00.000-06:00

Trans-Siberian Orchestra

'Tis the Season

2008-12-06T14:05:00.001-06:00

...for my favorite Christmas song
Christmas Canon by Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Thanksgiving Playtime

2008-11-28T10:37:00.006-06:00

Edric, Braden and Ashton
Goltry, Oklahoma

(They were saying "cheese." Click the pics to make 'em bigger)

Edric playing with trucks

(And of course they went to see the chickens)

Nuchy in His Blanket

2008-11-26T10:32:00.000-06:00

Scary Stuff!

2008-11-01T12:59:00.002-05:00

The Grim Reaper

The Fire Fighter

The Trick or Treaters

The Reaper with a Really Tall Scarecrow

Grandma with Her Trick or Treaters

So Long, Tony

2008-10-27T10:46:00.005-05:00

It is a sad day for me and TJ because one of our very favorite writers has passed away. Tony Hillerman wrote mysteries about Navajo tribal policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jimmy Chee. Although he was born in Oklahoma, he made New Mexico his adopted home and taught at the University of New Mexico for many years. TJ and I count ourselves privileged to have had the opportunity to meet Tony on several occasions and thank him for his books. He was a gracious, humble, and down to earth person.

The Navajo Tribal Council honored Hillerman with its Special Friend of the Dineh award in 1987. He also received the Golden Spur Award from Western Writers of America and the Grand Master Award from the Mystery Writers of America, which elected him its president. In 1993, he was inducted into the Oklahoma Journalism Hall of Fame.

Peanuts in Your Coke

2008-09-19T11:06:00.005-05:00

I discovered one of the great Southern traditions when I was about 10 years old. Peanuts in your Coke! I discovered this Southern tradition in the great American Southwest, particularly on a highway in New Mexico. I don't remember where we were going, but me, my dad, my cousin Teddy and my uncle Ted were on a road trip to somewhere in rural New Mexico when we stopped at one of those ubiquitous service stations along the highway. We each got an ice-cold Coca-cola in a glass bottle and either a candy bar or a bag of roasted salted peanuts. As soon as we were back on the road my uncle Ted opened his bag of peanuts and after taking a couple of swigs from his Coke, poured the nuts into the bottle. I asked him if he just poured his peanuts into his Coke and he said yes and that I should give it a try. I did and I've been hooked ever since. When you pour your peanuts into your Coke you get a wonderfully salty-sweet treat with a crunch in every swig! The trick is to get your peanut intake calibrated so that they last until the end of the Coke.

By the way, don't try this with a can. It just doesn't work right. You can use a plastic bottle or, best of all, a glass bottle. Yummo!

After 30 Years

2008-08-24T15:49:00.002-05:00

After 30 years, I only love her more.

Ghosts - 2

2008-07-30T21:11:00.011-05:00

In her book Ghost Worlds, Melba Goodwyn writes extensively about the importance of the often overlooked orb. She also describes three distinct types of orbs that are all well known to ghost hunters: the ghost orb, the spirit orb, and the oracle orb. All three types are present in the pictures below. These are just four of dozens that I took on a ghost hunting expedition last October at World Harvest Church in Enid. After studying the findings and comparing them with what authors such as Goodwyn have written, it is entirely possible that the building is the locale of a portal, a "thin place" where entities from another dimension pass through into our three dimensional world. Nearly all these photos were shot in the darkness without any lights other than the flash of the camera itself. I took dozens of photographs on every floor of the building and there were orbs in no less than 90% of them. This is quite striking because over the years I have taken thousands of photos with this camera and the only place I've ever photographed an orb was at this church.

Along with the photographs, there was EVP work done as well as eyewitness accounts of unexplained movements and the daily audible footsteps in the hall and sanctuary when no one else was in the building.

To get a fuller effect, click on the pics for an enlarged view.

A storm of orbs manifesting for the camera.

A very interesting and brightly self-luminescent orb hiding behind some boards on the right side of the picture.

Several orbs of different types following the ghost hunters down the stairs.

My favorite. Matt is doing EVP work and looking straight at a bright ascending orb.

There are a lot of strange things that have happened in this building (which was once a mercantile and then later the Gaslight Theater) and there are many strange things happening now in the lives of people associated with the current occupants. It would be interesting to know if there are some particular actions or practices which are drawing many of the spiritual manifestations that have occurred and are continuing to occur.

You Might Be a Real New Mexican IF...

2008-07-28T14:50:00.001-05:00

A package of white flour tortillas is the exact same thing as a loaf of bread. You don't need to write it on your shopping list; it's a given

At any gathering, regardless of size, green chile stew, tortillas, and huge mounds of shredded cheese are mandatory

There is a piece of a UFO displayed in your home

You believe that using a turn signal is a sign of weakness

You can actually hear the Taos hum

You don't see anything wrong with drive-up window liquor sales

You hated Texans until the Californians moved in

You have an extra freezer just for green chile

You have been told by at least one out-of-state vendor that they are going to charge you extra for "international" shipping

You have driven to an Indian Casino at 3am because you were hungry

You iron your jeans to "dress up"

You know the punch line to at least one Espanola joke

You know whether you want "red or green"

You see nothing odd when, in the conversations of the people in line around you at the grocery store, every other word of each sentence alternates between Spanish and English

Your Christmas decorations include "a yard of sand and 200 paper bags"

Your swamp cooler got knocked off your roof by a dust devil

Ghosts - 1

2008-07-25T22:49:00.012-05:00

"We don't see things as they are; we see them as we are!"

- Anaïs Nin

Picture this: the high plains of northeastern New Mexico in the winter of 1920. A primitive western ranch straight out of a Zane Grey novel. Two young children are tragically lost in a house fire. They were Johnnie William and Mary Mae Lawrence, aged 3 1/2 years and 20 months, respectively. They were the children of my great-aunt Molly Lawrence and my great-uncle Charles Lawrence.

My grandfather, Emery F. LeCrone, worked on the Lawrence ranch as a teenager in the mid 1920s. When I was a kid, he'd tell the story from time to time about how he and Uncle Charley used to see a white horse come walking up out of the high plains near the house with two children riding it. This happened several times. They could see that the two kids on the horse were Johnnie and Mary Mae. In those days everything was done on horseback, so Emery and Charley would jump up on their horses as soon as they saw the apparition and give chase. The white horse with the children would saunter away over the top of a hill just before the two men got to it. When Charley and Emery got to the crest of the hill, the horse and the children were nowhere to be seen.

Here is a picture of Molly and Emery and Molly's daughter Lethia who was born exactly 6 months to the day after the deaths of her older siblings.

Slim, Charley Lawrence, and Emery F. LeCrone on the Lawrence Ranch northeast of Clayton, New Mexico.

Estancia Valley, New Mexico

2008-07-22T21:49:00.016-05:00

What can I say? I'm on a land buying frenzy. Today we purchased an additional three acres (pictured above) about a half-mile west of the acreage we bought last Thursday outside of Moriarty, New Mexico (from a completely different realtor). Shall we see just how much of the Estancia Valley I can afford? Now, to build some cool cabins.

Moriarty, New Mexico

2008-07-17T23:58:00.007-05:00

Today TJ and I bought this piece of land near Moriarty, New Mexico.

Take a look.

(click the pics)

70

2008-07-06T17:03:00.001-05:00

Dad would have been 70 years old today, so I smoked a cigar in his honor.

Miss You

2008-03-22T13:09:00.001-05:00

Cousin Steve

2008-03-17T13:58:00.003-05:00

Cindy sent me this pic of my cousin Steve and his daughter Amanda. She sure is cute! But Steve, like me, looks just like a Kear. (He has more hair than me, though!)

Grateful for the Songs

2008-03-07T23:13:00.008-06:00

Last Sunday morning I listened to the congregation singing O Sacred Head Now Wounded. And as I listened, realizing that I knew every word by heart, I thought to myself how blessed I was to have been raised around the great hymns and spiritual songs of the Church. My Grandma LeCrone always had the Gospel Singing Jubilee on each Sunday morning before church. Every Friday night my Dad would put on a stack of vinyl albums by the Chuck Wagon Gang and the King's Heralds and we'd let them sing us to sleep. I remember once riding with my Dad and he taught me to sing We're Marching to Zion. I can still sing it to this day without a hymnal. I was raised singing the great hymns of Fanny J. Crosby, Isaac Watts, and Charles Wesley. Even the newer writers like John W. Peterson and my "cousin" Bill Gaither have added so much to my life. There is no doubt in my mind that I would have suffered great loss if I had not been immersed in the great old music that expresses the faith of God's people.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go put a Chuck Wagon Gang CD on.

Edric and Elmo

2008-02-26T09:35:00.003-06:00

Edric Turns Three

2008-02-26T08:51:00.004-06:00

Specific Memories

2008-02-23T13:34:00.007-06:00

One of the downsides to getting older is that I am running out of people who share specific memories with me. For instance, I found it very exciting a few weeks ago when in casual conversation I discovered that my boss stood on the sidewalk across the street when the Esquire Theater burned down in Enid in 1969. Here was a specific memory that two people shared. I share this memory with my boss because I too watched the Esquire burn down, sitting across the street from it in the back seat of my Dad's old Chevy II. Do you remember our old Chevy II? What a great old car. It was white and was the 4-door variety. I don't remember what year model it was - probably a '64 or '65. It was when they were still kind of flat looking, before they became the curvy Nova of the '70s.

I remember going out to Meno in the Chevy II and visiting Grandma and Pa LeCrone. We would fill up the car at Pa's Texaco station. This was back when gas was 28 cents a gallon and the gas station was full service. Pa would wash your windshield and check your oil and tire pressure. He could fix a flat or install a fan belt or a muffler in the shop. That kind of service station is almost a thing of the past. In the station there was a pop machine. Sodas were 15 cents a bottle. There was also a cigarette machine (40 cents a pack) and a pool table. Pa sold chewing tobacco, cigars, candy bars and gum, too. Candy bars were a dime. There were bags of Redman and Beechnut chew as well as plugs of tobacco like Workhorse. He sold King Edwards, Swisher Sweets and Roi-Tan cigars. Then there was all the Wrigley gum: Juicy Fruit, Spearmint and Doublemint. Pa always chewed Doublemint gum. I think that's why it's still my favorite to this day.

Cindy probably shares more specific memories with me than anyone else, although Cindy's too young to remember some of my earlier ones. I'm sure she remembers us pretending that Pa's stock rack was a jail. That stock rack was kept behind the old garage when it wasn't on Pa's truck. I could climb it like a ladder and get up on the roof of the garage.

Can you remember the well house that used to be behind Grandma and Pa's? How about the huge propane tank that used to sit in the front yard? We'd pretend it was a horse and ride it. Then Mom would yell at us because the silver paint would get all over us. Can you remember burning the trash? Or Pa feeding the stray cats that lived in the old garage? Do you remember when the north side of the garage seemed like a place of buried treasure?

Church is the same way. There is a distinct smell about the churches of my childhood. It's that "old church" smell that is absolutely unique. Every time I encounter it, memories are automatically evoked. I remember falling down the stairs at the church in Woodward when I was 5. Didn't hurt me a bit. I remember visiting the church in Moreland when I was 5 or 6 and asking the preacher before the service started if we could sing "Blessed Assurance." And we did sing it. I remember my Grandma teaching Sunday School at the Wesleyan Methodist Church in Ringwood. Pa was the Sunday School Superintendent. I also remember going to a Halloween party there. It was held in the basement (which was also the fellowship hall). Grandma dressed up as a witch, complete with pointy black hat. I was a hobo. I recited this poem (which I still clearly remember) for the enjoyment of all:

The night was dark, the moon was blue
Around the corner a hobo flew
And from his belt a knife he drew
And cut a banana half in two.

She Owns Me

2008-02-22T16:36:00.001-06:00

And here's the mark to prove it.

Florida

2008-02-13T11:19:00.002-06:00

Last night I dreamed that I moved to Florida. We had a house within walking distance of the beach. Bandit was there and in good health because the warm climate agreed with him. And Miles was there, too.

Strange.

TJ's Office

2008-02-08T16:53:00.000-06:00

Here are some pics of what TJ's co-workers did to her office today in anticipation of her birthday tomorrow.

Death and Taxes

2008-02-02T11:37:00.000-06:00

Today I filled out my federal and state tax returns and submitted them to the IRS and the OTC via e-file. This is yet another reason I have almost no hair.

Linda Comes to Visit

2008-01-13T18:40:00.000-06:00

Our friend Linda from Ponca City came down today and went to church with us. Then we went to CiCi's and ate so much pizza that I had to come back home and get into my stretchy jeans and my holey Wake Forest T-shirt. We had a great visit!

Enough Already!

2007-12-28T10:08:00.000-06:00

4th Snow of the Season! And it's only December!

3rd Snow of the Season

2007-12-23T09:02:00.000-06:00

TJ freezing in the 3rd Snow of the Season

Nuchy stuck in a snowdrift

Christmas Pic

2007-12-13T09:15:00.000-06:00

This is me and TJ in front of the Cherokee Strip Conference Center in Enid on 12/12/07. Cindy and Karold invited us to join them at the World Harvest Church Christmas Banquet. This is what I look like when I've eaten so much good food that I am in danger of exploding. Lisa took the pic.

How You Know It's Christmas Season in Oklahoma

2007-11-28T11:18:00.000-06:00

Nuchy & the First Snow of the Season

2007-11-24T08:40:00.000-06:00

Blue and Gold

2007-11-09T18:11:00.000-06:00

One of the wonderful things about living in the great state of Oklahoma is being able to eat Blue and Gold Sausage. Blue & Gold is sold exclusively through school groups, teams, civic organizations and clubs. This year we got ours through the LoMega FFA. Last year it was through the Enid High School Band. Wherever you get Blue and Gold from, it's good. It's only sold in Oklahoma, Texas, Arkansas and Kansas. But since the company's here in the Sooner state, most Blue and Gold is found right here.

And not only does Blue and Gold make some of the best sausage around, it also makes chicken fritters and the best bacon money can buy. The sausage comes packaged in two and a half pound tubes and the bacon comes in a huge three and half pound slab! Yummmm-o!

If you've had Blue and Gold, you'll never forget it. If you've never had the privilege, well, so sad for you!

The Dogs and their Mike

2007-10-22T15:34:00.000-05:00

Bandit, Mike & Nucha
Ponca City, Oklahoma, 1999

2007 LeCrone Family Reunion

2007-10-17T08:36:00.000-05:00

The Children of Emery LeCrone
LeCrone Family Reunion, October 7, 2007
Fairview, Oklahoma

Our Family

2007-10-02T09:17:00.000-05:00

I found this picture in some stuff that my Mom gave me after Dad died. The handwriting is Gracie Fern LeCrone's. She titled the picture "Our Family" and the names read (clockwise): Dad (William C. LeCrone), Emery (Pa LeCrone), Mama (Sarah Elvira "Ella" Dyson LeCrone), Mollie (Ella's sister, Mollie Dyson Lawrence), Me (Gracie Reba Fern LeCrone), Grandma (Mary Druzilla Gaither Dyson), Lethia (Lawrence), Grandpa (John Wesley Dyson)

Click the Pic for a Bigger View

Angie Debo

2007-09-03T13:17:00.000-05:00

On labor day, T.J. and I decided to take a drive to Marshall, Oklahoma, and have a picnic. Marshall was the home of Angie Debo, one of our great Oklahoma writers and historians. Debo was censored in her time for being way too honest in her historical writings, in fact the state of Oklahoma did not recognize Debo's lifelong achievements until the 1980s when she was in her 90s. Her portrait was finally hung in the state capital next to humorist Will Rogers, Indian athlete Jim Thorpe, and many of the state's leaders she had exposed in her books. In 1993 Debo was inaugurated to the Oklahoma Historians Hall of Fame. We were surprised to find that her grave was quite humbly marked in the North Cemetery.

(If you don't know who Angie Debo was, you can find out Here and Here.)

TJ's Sunflower

2007-08-25T08:52:00.000-05:00

Grandpa Tells a Fish Stoy

2007-08-18T17:18:00.000-05:00

Grandpa tells a fish story.
619 Oak Street, Clayton, New Mexico
February, 1960
L to R: J. C. Kear, E. F. LeCrone, Beryl LeCrone,

Lillie Mae Kear, Pinkney Kear

Fun in the Sun

2007-08-10T15:14:00.001-05:00

Ashton, 8/10/07, Meno, Oklahoma

Edric, 8/10/07, Meno, Oklahoma