What Happens in the Barn...

The Old West lives on in what our friends call "The Barn". I don't know how it began its life, but Skip, as he has been known to John (OilMan) ever since they were in high school together, has filled it with all manner of things reflecting his interest in California history. Hunting "trophies", otherwise known as animal heads hang from the walls and stuffed fish hang above the bar. How on earth does one stuff a fish, other than with breadcrumbs, parsley and lemon? Old maps, newspaper clippings and photographs line the walls. It has a long table that easily seats 20. Despite the animal heads, or maybe because of them, I don't know, I love this place.

The occasion today was Skip and his wife Judy's 55th wedding anniversary gathering, organized as a surprise by their children. Somehow they managed to keep it a secret until enough people "dropped by" that it was clearly a party in their honor.

OilMan is sitting at the bar with the 94 year old mother of another high school friend. She alternately enquired who I was and told me told me that she never would have recognized Johnny. By the time I had finished gently telling her that over fifty years had passed since the high school gang hung out together at her house, she asked me, "now who are you?"

I had an interesting conversation with Skip and Judy's granddaughter, a beautiful young woman who is studying conservation biology and pre-law at the University of Montana. She would like to work for the Department of Homeland Security or the FBI. When I asked her what those had to do with conservation biology, she said she wanted to help apprehend smugglers of illegal wildlife. 

As I was standing by the cast iron wood stove  eating a plate of meatballs, Glenn's mother approached me with a big smile, introduced herself, and said, "now who are you?" I told her I was OilMan's wife, and she said, "which one is he?" 

Please don't put off making your pledge to Blipfuture. We might need our journals one day just to remind us how we lived our own lives….