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Red Cowboy Boots

October 28, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

This week I am attending a one-week writer’s residency program at Dairy Hollow in Eureka Springs. During this time I will re-post some of my favorite blogs from the prior year. Maybe you missed one?

originally published 02/09/12…

I could have lived in Nashville. I almost had a date with Buddy Jewell, Osceola’s current claim to fame -the FIRST ever Nashville Star winner! Seriously. I have a love note from Buddy Jewell. He passed it to me after my biology class at Arkansas State, the fall of 1980. He had a class in that same classroom immediately following mine. As I walked out, he was sitting there waiting to go inside, actually playing his guitar. Just kinda messing around on it. Clearly, he was meant to be in Nashville.

I didn’t know him that well – he graduated a couple of years before me – from rival high school Osceola. I was a Rivercrest Colt. Anytime we wanted to irritate “our” boys, or just get their attention, we dated a boy from Osceola… It worked pretty well.

The note was folded up very tightly into a little square. Why would Buddy Jewell be handing me a note? I stuck it in my jeans to save for later. In private. In my dorm room. I couldn’t imagine what it was about. Maybe he wanted to hook up with my roommate? After reading it, I was very surprised. Wow, the first Nashville Star! No, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself….

Apparently it was for real, but we never went out. Way too complicated – I was dating Mark Wooten and transferring to Baylor... he was headed to Nashville – someday. Even so, I stuck the note in my bedroom drawer with all my letters and cards and junk – treasures I had collected throughout my life to that point. Years later, my mother called me to tell me that someone from Osceola was on Nashville Star. Nashville Star? Never heard of it…

She said, “I think his name is Jewell…?”

Buddy Jewell? Yeah, I know him! I have a love letter from him.

Later, after Buddy won, I dug it out of that drawer and flaunted it to all of my cousins who were duly impressed. (Always hold on to things like that – you just never know.)

Buddy was handsome – no doubt about it. He looked like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. And that guitar was hot. He carried it everywhere. Obviously he was headed for bigger things. And he was observant – he certainly recognized that I was a Nashville kinda girl. I could have been.

It was probably those Razorback Red Justin cowboy boots I wore – nearly every day – to classes. After I transferred to Baylor, I traded those in for more appropriate ‘Texas-looking’ boots, bought at The Western Fair in Lott – a quick side trip from Waco. All the Baylor freshmen saved their money to buy boots there – a necessity for the Cotton-Eye Joe which we practiced at the fraternal hall in West. The Western Fair smelled of leather and oil, and Lucchese boots were lined up for blocks and blocks. My new boots were brown – a bit more subdued. I couldn’t very well walk around the Baylor campus in Razorback red – the schools weren’t that chummy. I wish I still had those red Justins.

A couple of years ago, right before Christmas, my friend Becky and I, along with her daughter Christie, planned a girl’s trip to Nashville. This was my first trip to Nashville – very exciting for a girl brought up with Conway Twitty and George Jones. I couldn’t contain myself – all those historical sites – the Grand Ole Opry – wow! – Country Music Hall of Fame – I could cross another item off my bucket list. Becky and Christie, on the other hand, seemed to be a bit more interested in visiting all the Nashville malls. We went to at least 3 malls and purchased NOTHING. Only a week before Christmas, parking was horrendous and Christie was determined to park by the front door – very odd for someone with a dedicated workout practice who eats only paleo….

Unless it’s a bookstore or nursery, I don’t like to shop. Secondly, I live in Dallas, 5 minutes from the power of Northpark Mall, with 1.9 million square feet of gross leasable area. It’s probably one of the top 5 malls in the nation based on sales per square foot. Northpark has everything. It’s an incredible place, and I try my best to avoid it at all costs. Becky and Christie were understandably bored with Jonesboro’s retail options – the city only recently got its first escalator.

Becky’s primary goal on this trip was to spot Keith Urban, preferably without Nicole. Honestly, I thought our chances of spotting Keith lunching at Panera on baked potato soup were slim. But we looked. I’m not sure Becky even ate.

We did shop and sightsee – something for everyone… We even worked in a line dance lesson. The absolute highlight for me was seeing Porter Wagoner’s rhinestone jacket and Bocephus’ boots! Buddy Jewell’s college guitar wasn’t exhibited at the Hall of Fame yet, but maybe in time. I don’t remember if any Keith artifacts were there, but I’m sure Becky knows.

talya

Musical Pairing:

Sweet Southern Comfort, Buddy Jewell

It was a dark and stormy night…

October 16, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

It was a dark and stormy night…

Ok not really. The night was clear and cold, but living on a farm, every night was dark. On Halloween, the glow of an orange harvest moon only added murky shadows to nightfall.

With no neighbors, no sidewalks, no streetlights, treats were few and far between. My sister and I worked extra hard to fill our plastic jack-o-lanterns, making each piece of candy seem a treasure.

One Halloween, Momma drove us from farmhouse to farmhouse down Highway 77 from Smith’s Store almost to Manila. Nana went with us that year which made the outing even more fun. At 55 years old, this was Nana’s first time ever to trick or treat. Excited to play dress-up, her costume was brilliant yet simple as the best often are. An old stocking pulled tightly over her head to below her chin distorted all facial features, smashing her long humped nose and stretching her lips. With a black coat to complete the look, she became the witch from Snow White.

With our pumpkins almost full, we saved the best for last. The Cockram house was my favorite, built of native stone with a long gravel driveway that twisted through the heavily treed front yard.

There was good candy inside that house, you could just tell.

Turning the car lights off, Momma drove slowly up the drive, stopping a few yards away from the house, leaving us to walk to the front door with Nana.

Trick or Treat!

Do you have candy for my starving kids? Nana pleaded in a scary voice, adding an evil cackle and holding out a shaky hand.

Although family friends, it was evident they had no idea who we were. They peeped at our car, but the night was black, and without headlights the color of the car was not obvious. The drapes around the dining room window moved aside as someone inside watched us.

Do we know you?They asked.

No, we are just a family who needs lots of caaaandyyyyy. Nana screeched, nearly scaring me.

Back in our car, we giggled quite proud that we remained nameless. In the back seat, I felt inside my plastic pumpkin trying to determine the latest additions based on the size and shape of each small candy. Unwrapping a Bit o’ Honey, I popped it into my mouth, dropping the wrapper back into the jack-o-lantern. Nana joked about how we got them good!

Momma agreed, laughing as she backed down the drive toward the highway, still without the headlights. We were stealthy, covert, the car remaining invisible. The Cockrams continued to watch from the picture window, completely stumped.

Halloween was so fun!

A loud crack! A jolt that hammered us (seatbelt-less) into the front seat. My pumpkin spewed candy into the floor as I nearly choked on my Bit o’ Honey.

Quite the opposite of sneaky, Momma had rammed the car into a tree, breaking the taillight, splintering the tree trunk and bringing an abrupt end to our spirited shenanigans. The Cockrams spilled out onto the drive, actually excited their tree brought our identities into the light of this Halloween night.

Finally home, we had to explain this little trick to Daddy.

Boo!

My sister and me. I was seriously rocking the eyebrows…

talya

Musical Pairing:

Halloween Great Pumpkin Mix

This post is Day 2 of BLOGtober Fest for Arkansas Women Bloggers. Theme Halloween Memories…

Hello Autumn!

October 15, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Autumn is the time we begin to wind down the year, rebalancing our bodies and minds as the days begin to shorten and cool. We breathe a sigh of relief at having survived another hot southern summer.

Into storage go those summer decorations, the bowl of seashells collected during annual treks to Destin, the sunflower door wreath. Into the back of the closet go the white linen pants and summer sundresses. Bring on cowboy boots and sweater weather!

Thoughts turn to family and football, chili and pumpkin spice lattes. Fall is a time for thanksgiving.

Surprise lilies bloom where none stood the night before. The air is filled with defoliant and the smell of cotton.

I wait for the Great Pumpkin.

The roadsides and ditch banks around our farm are tangled with tiny wild flowers and colorful foliage perfect for gathering into fall decorations. What better way to honor nature’s blessings than with vegetation growing wild near the fields? These fields which provide for us all spring…every spring, year after year.

ditchbank decor

Our rice field is peaceful now, resting, and nearly bare after harvest. The remaining dry stalks, interesting only to dove and duck, are in sharp contrast to the brilliant colors along the turn row and ditches. Cockleburs hang in clumps on scarlet stems. Peeking through the weeds, purple morning glories creep along the dark soil like ground cover. Silvery Johnson grass waves in the breeze. Growing wild, pink spiky flowers are unfamiliar to me, similar to salvia.

decorating with Autumn’s offerings

You can easily transform your home at no cost with only a pair of scissors. A rusty bucket or tarnished silver bowl provides the ideal container. Any found object will do.

As poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox observed, a weed is but an unloved flower.

The beauty is all around.