Part One:
One amazing, yet, fun day, my first husband, John and I were walking through a pasture, close to the town of Worland, Wyoming when something unanticipated happened.
On that particular day we decided to do some serious fishing. That is when a Black Stallion started following us through the one-foot-tall grass. Every time we looked back with a sideways glance, the horse would stop. When running,we could hear him trotting behind us. Suddenly John and I looked back. That is when Mr.Stallion charged towards us! So we took off running, then climbed the fence, making it out of the pasture safely.
The horse stood still in the pasture. The big eyes of the the gallant Stallion watched John and I from the other side. Poor, Black Stallion had a disappointed look about him, as to be saying, "Darn, the fun is over for now."
Conclusion:
John and I got away from the Black Stallion! Yippee! We were on our way. The sky-blue rapid steam, 50 feet away, was in view.
After a few hours of fishing, we decided to return back to our vehicle. The only way back, without having to visit Mr. Stallion again, was to go down a cliff, to the other side of the pasture. It was steeper then John and I realized, so we slid down the cliff at fast pace. Then we plopped, nearly landing into the water. My Hubie and I decided to wade through the steam to get back to the car, rather then visiting the juvenile horse again. So, at that point, we walked into the fast flowing steam. The water was deeper then anticipated. It had risen up to my waist so I turned around, forging my legs through rapid moving water. Now I was standing on solid ground. I saw, through my terrified eyes, the water grabbing at my husband. With a struggle he made it out of the stream, emptying the water, including a Golden Trout, out of his boots. We laughed so hard.
What an event to remember! Decades have passed since that fishing trip event. Even though, I will never forget that day when I met the Black Stallion, resident, of Worland, Wyoming.
My first husband and I were walking through a pasture close to Worland, Wyoming, on our way to the river for some serious fishing, when a Black Stallion started following us. Every time we looked back with a sideways glance, the horse would stop. When we decided to run, we could hear him trotting behind us. Suddenly Hubie and I looked back, then Mr.Stallion bunged. So we took off, climbed the fence, and did not return through the pasture.Any questions? Feel free to ask.
The widow, old lady Jones, lived in the haunted-looking house for 70 years. When I was a child, my father informed me that she had about 100 cats that shared the home. It must have been a smelly mess.
What I remember most about old lady Jones is that I could see her looking out the highest window with her binoculars, when we passed by. Perhaps she was looking for more cats. Who knows?
Many decades have passed since she died and lived there, but the old house still stands. The house is probably haunted.
by KF February 1, 2015
I grew during the 50's in a small farming community, on a farm, along the northeast Front Range, which was 50 miles north of Denver, Colorado. Our small town had a community Christmas Party every year. All of the locals would gather on Main Street. The children were given Christmas treats in a brown paper lunch bag. The bags were filled with an orange, apple, unshelled peanuts, hard Christmas candy, and a chocolate Santa. We also got to sit on Santa's lap and tell him what we wanted for Christmas. Everyone would gather around the newly decorated tree to sing Christmas Carols. We looked forward to the special Christmas celebration yearly.
My five siblings, plus the paternal cousins, Aunts, Uncles, and grandparents would get together on Christmas Eve to share the Christmas joys. On Christmas morn we opened our family gifts. Then we would go to my maternal grandma and grandpa’s house. Grandma would cook a huge meal. She was a German lady, so there always was a large pot of chicken German-noodle soup with butter balls, German rye bread, roast beef, roast chicken, pies, German coffee cakes, cookies, and more. What a feast that was. My grandma would always, jokingly, say, "Run around the house a few times so you will have room for more food." After the meal, the women got to do the dishes. It seemed like it took forever until we finally got to open our gifts from our grandparents. Us grandchildren always knew what we were getting because we got to pick out our presents from the Christmas catalog.
I look back to the good-old-days with fond memories. The memories of family get-together's, holiday community-festivities, Christmas caroling, religious scenes of baby Jesus, and love-filled hearts are wonderful times to behold.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
THE CONCERT
Being a semi-hippie who just graduated from high school, I found the events of 1969 to be unforgettable. I was feeling all the pressures of the Vietnam War, protests, and peace marches. Love beads, marijuana, and funky rock and roll music were happening. There was a lot of controversy that fall over whether such a wildly famous group as the Rolling Stones should be allowed to perform on the CSU campus. The students were triumphant, though. Their protests and letters to the President of CSU were successful. The mesmerizing concert was to take place in Moby Gym.
Finally, Friday night arrived. My fiance Tom, who was a junior at CSU, escorted me. He was an upper middle class military brat with blond hair, blue eyes, and a ruddy complexion. We met during the annual CSU College Daze celebration, at a 3.2 dance club called the Green Onion. I was considered to be a ‘townie’ at the club because I was a non student, locale.
For the occasion, I wore an awe-inspiring outfit, which I sewed specially for the occasion. My outfit consisted of an olive green, crushed velvet bolero with matching hot pants, a gold satin poet’s blouse, and beige patent leather knee boots. My long, bleached blonde hair and trim, curvaceous, tanned figure went perfectly with the outfit.
Tom and I decided to get to the concert early, yet, the streets were crammed. We had to park four blocks from the concert, and we scurried through the crunchy fall leaves. The excitement induced a natural high that flowed through my entire existence. I felt like screaming my happiness to the world.
B.B. King and his well-known band opened, performing the blues. I had not heard B.B. King before and immediately decided that his music was groovy. BB made his guitar ‘Lucille’ talk in melodious messages. The rhythmic blues filled the auditorium. BB and his band received a standing ovation. The howl’s, far-outs, and out-of sights echoed throughout the arena. During the intermission, some of BB’s band members visited with the audience. Even though Tom and I sat in the third section up, one of BB’s band members sat down by me and started cracking jokes. My blood pressure rose and my flustered face let out nervous giggles. After he left, I thought about how neat it would be to tell my future children about tonight.
Then the Stones made their grand entrance and ran across the stage. They opened with my favorite song, “As Tears Go By”. That was one of the Stones grooviest songs ever. Mick Jagger was wearing his typical tight white pants, ruffled white shirt, and black Beetles boots with stacked heals. Mick was so thin that I thought he could hide behind one of the posts that held up the ceiling. As Mick sang, he darted and jumped all about the stage doing some provocatively sexy movements. Mick Jagger really knew how to capture the lady’s attention.
The entire evening was mesmerizing. Tom and I were hypnotized. Tom confessed that he had taken some mescaline and was tripping. Normally, his disclosing such a thing as taking drugs would have bothered me; however, I was on such a high from the concert that I did not think about that until some days after the event. Besides, a good deal of the night, I was so caught up in the music, I utterly forgot about Tom.
That night in 1969 helped me to cast my worries aside. I was able to thrust my thoughts away from the cruel War and our disturbed country. My peers and I most commonly existed in our self-made “All You Need is Love” society. As I picture that evening in 1969, I see an eighteen year old, with patent leather knee boots and a satin blouse. The girl in my vision has blond hair and a nonchalant smile on her face. Suddenly I am thrust back and find myself here, now, thirty-six years later, and the Rolling Stones are still going strong!
By Kf
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