A Mountain Funeral – R.I.P. Spud Jones
Well I went to my first mountain funeral the other day. There is a small cemetery here in Timberon. It’s well-kept, if not fancy. The lawn is cleared of trees and bushes, and the nameplates are cleared so you can read the names. Not many standing headstones, if any (I’m trying to remember if I saw any at all).
A local cowboy and decorated war vet (Vietnam), Spud Jones, was killed just before Christmas, when a tractor he was driving pitched him off and then ran him over. Spud was a good guy, and he will be missed. The mountain folk are shocked and sad, but nobody was surprised that he died working (with his boots on – I guess you could say). Spud was one of the first people I met when we moved here. He had a face that saw a thousand miles, and buried in there were the most twinkly eyes you’d ever seen! He was a cool dude. I’ll miss him.
The funeral was just after Christmas on the 29th. Winter had been skirting and teasing around the edges of the Sacramento mountains this year, but we hadn’t got any real snow to speak of yet. The cold winds started blowing that day, but that didn’t stop anybody. I’m still waiting for a count, but I’d bet there were over 200 people there. In a town of 300. Granted, most of them were relatives of Spud (he had a big family) but I was surprised and pleased at the turnout.
It was a graveside service. His daughter Amy started it off by reading a poem sent to her by Spud’s son Rhett. The casket was homemade by Amy’s husband JoBob, and a friend (a local wood artist). There were cowboy pictures burned in to the surface, and wild horses running around the sides. The handles were hemp rope loosely secured with iron. The top of the casket was structured with nice wooden slats on the surface built up to form the dome shape, all sanded and polished. JoBob and JR did a fine job.
Spud was laid out in his leather shoes, jeans, and a good shirt, hair trimmed up, and coins on his eyes. They had a pinto horse at the graveside in full gear, with Spuds hat on the saddle horn and his empty boots in the stirrups. Before they closed the coffin up, the put the hat and boots in with him. Six guys lowered him down using three ropes running under the casket. Smooth as silk – didn’t even tip. They took the saddle and gear off the horse and laid it by the grave, I don’t know if they buried it with him or not.
The local preacher did a real nice service, and many of Spuds friends spoke a bit about him and told stories. Everyone that wanted to, got to say their piece. There were lots of tears and lots of laughs. After the service, several folk headed over to the Hightop Lounge bar for “Spud Farts” (a drink established at the bar several years ago). Not sure what is in it, but if it’s named for Spud, it will definitely be the real deal.
R.I.P. Spud Jones.
California Sister Butterfly – my new BFF
There are advantages to hanging your laundry out in the air to dry. Fresh clothes. Zero energy cost. And the stretching and reaching motion opens up your chest and allows all that good air to flush out the unused areas of your lungs. It’s therapy – yeah.
Not to mention the critters.
So I’m puttering around the backyard, hanging up laundry – and this pretty thing is fluttering along behind me trying to land on me. She must have been attracted to the white T-Shirt I was wearing, because she was very insistent.
California Sister Butterfly
Isn’t she pretty? When I was finished hanging the clothes up to dry, I went to the computer to try and identify it. They are known as either “California Sister” or “Arizona Sister” butterflies. The “sister” part, is because the white markings look like a nuns habit.
I tried to move her from my shirt and put her on the tomato plant, several times. I was afraid she would get hurt riding on my back while I was tossing clothes around. She finally fluttered off, no doubt in search of a stationary T-Shirt.
I love the blue markings up near the top. These are pretty large butterflies. Here’s a picture of her on my hand, you can get a better idea of the size.
California Sister Butterfly on my hand
Thunder Mountain
Well, I didn’t want to go a whole year without posting again . . .
Status? Still in the 5th wheel, but very close to finishing the house.
This is taking way longer than I expected but I will be so happy to finally move in, that I will most likely be delirious for months afterwords.
We get thunder and lightning storms every afternoon for the past few weeks. The rain is nice but makes everything humid. Monsoon season starts around the 4th of July here, and goes through August.
I’ve acquired some tomato plants from Ruby the Postmaster. She started too many and gave the extras away. I came home with 8 little plants. John planted 2 of them upside down in 5 gallon buckets, and I did the rest the old fashioned way. In a plastic bin. So far I am winning – heh.
Mine
Johns
(Original text by Nanette Thorell 7/18/2009 (re-posted with minor edits)