Grandma's swing..

 In church today, our Pastor was telling us a story about the old swing sets from the 1960's....

Reminded me of Grandma Clara VanDyke's swing set..

She had Dad, Willis and Henry make it for her, out of oilfield pipe!

It was heavy duty stuff and hurt if you smacked your head on it!

The boys usually did, (horsing around and all) ...

Don't know about the girls....

It was the shiniest black paint, oil base paint. I'm sure and I would bet it was from the oilfields too...LOL

Grandma thought something was up when her boys didn't fuss about making the swing set for us grandkids...

Then one day, while swinging and playing on the set, Henry came driving in with a trk and pulled over to the swing set, told all of us to get off!

He unhooked the chains from the top pipe bar, put them aside and flipped the rack into his trk..

Grandma came out of the house, yelling, asking, what was he doing??

Henry says, Mom we are pulling an engine out of a car, we need this engine hoist...

Grandma was right, they built it for pulling engines, but kept it at Grandmas for a swing set for us kids, till it was time to use it!

Grandma yells at him, as he is pulling out of the yard, "Bring it back when your done", Henry yelling and waving,Ya' Ya' Ya'.........

All reactions:other

The Knapping Pile

The Knapping Pile... 

As we drove up, I could see the glister of obsidian glass.

A pile so huge, we knew it was a Knapper's party pile.

A Glass Buttes Knapper's party pile.

As I walked the pile with camera in hand, and maybe a bucket or two, I seen the beauty of nature's natural glass.

From the volcanos and their flows as they erupted, giving us every color that they offered, laying in that pile.

Mahagany, Leopard skin, Rainbow, Aura Borealis, Black Lace, Double Flow, Triple Flow, Crazy Lace, some Red Ribbon too.

How many Knapper's were there to make a pile so magnificent and beautiful.  

How many chairs sat on that pile of glass, we call obsidian.

Knapper's chipping away at the obsidian, bring beauty for all to see.

Maybe a point, blade, spear head, or anything that came to mind.

The stories that were spoken, the stories that were heard.

Imagine the laughter and good times they had chipping away and enjoying the lost art of yesterday.

I collected some of these pieces, that glimmered in the sun.

Will pass them off to family and friends, with this story told.

As I turn from the pile and walk away, I took one more look to see the reflections of obsidian laying so far away from everybody and everything.

Amongst the trees of green, Skies of blue, sage of grey.

Coyotes howling for all to go away.

A pile nobody will ever see, except the Knapper's chipping away.

Michael VanDyke C@ 2023

Jets and Dreams ...

 When I was a child living in Montana, I would always look up when I heard the jets fly over!

I knew the difference between civilian jets and military jets, just by sound alone.
I would always wonder who was on those planes, where were they going or coming back to. Was it to another city in the state, maybe state to state or another country.
I always said and told people, one day I'll be in one of those jets, flying to an unknown destination.
The day did come on my birthday at 18 years old - my first flight and headed to Missouri from North Dakota to go to the US Army basic training camp at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri (1973) ..
It was totally amazing; I was doing what I had promised myself, you're flying in a jet!
After my B/C training they sent some of us to Maryland to train, yes, another flight, another jet.
After that training I was going back to ND for leave, than off to another country (Germany) . That was three more flights.
I had many more flights in the Army before I was to ETS out of the military. I enjoyed every flight and the feeling it gave me.
I flew many more flights when I was a civilian after the Army life, I lost count on how many flights and planes I rode in.
Remembering my childhood memories about jets.
I would look out the plane windows and wonder who was on the ground and what they were doing, were they also looking up and wondering where that jet full of people was heading?
You can make your dreams come true, I did!
A simple country boy from a simple Montana small town, in the 1960's, looking up and saying, "I'm going to do that one day".

Michael VanDyke @C 2023

ELKS

The gates are closed, still all white and tall.

A sign that says ELKS, the base we grew to love.

I see the overgrowth of trees and shrubs, weeds everywhere.

Nature has taken control. 

The main road is cracked and bare.

As it travels past the buildings we once shared.

I see the Headquarters, Brass everywhere.

The Mess Hall, the smell of food cooking on the grills.

The PX, Barber shop too.

I see the barracks where we all slept, called it home.

Partied and pulled CQ, the 0400 hour wake up calls.

The Parade field, it's at ease now.

No more formations.

No more baseball, football on weekends, evenings too.

The Motor pool, trks are gone.

Just an empty lot, with weeds blowing in the wind.

I can still smell the diesel fumes, as they lingered in the air.

Sidewalks empty now, remembering GI's going from building to building.

Be them privates to full bird Colonels.

The trks and jeeps loading up soldiers, going to work, maybe the medics or guard duty too.

Lights out in the buildings, no CQ.

No people on duty, as the base lays to rest.

Turn around to walk away, only memories standing there.

For the old GI's, we were Americas best.

Michael VanDyke @C 2023

A Distant Voyage

 Hear the voice, on that long distant voyager.

Does it come from inside, or what your eyes see.

The heart feels the words.

The ears, they hear the sounds.

Hear the voice.

Hear the voice as it calls.

What is your voyage, is it your journey.

The strings on an instrument, the ivory with the keys

Wave after wave of its influence, hammering your soul.

Your heart, the feelings

Does it bring tears, is it of joy, maybe pain, a memory.

The voyage has started.

What distance do you have to go.

Wave after wave, soul after soul

I see the voyager, it's you ...

Michael VanDyke @C 2023

Highways of Life...

 I remember when the highway was my home.

Two years of walking, riding, seeing new things, good and bad.

The hundreds of people along the way. Most were good, a few evils.

You taught yourself how to know the difference and fast!

I see the beauty the world had to offer, sometimes I seen the nightmares of life, the world had to offer too! 

Choices, it's up to us as people, to decide which we choose.

I've slept in jails, under bridges, in wheat fields, orange groves, people's couches, also back seats of cars.

I walked the Interstates, secondary highways, back roads, did it all.

Go days without food, then have times where I ate every day.

All about the times and where you were at.

I've met people that wanted to hurt you, I've met people that were kind and understanding, helping you as they could.

A place to stay, a drink of water, food, pocket change, a ride.

My highway of life had many roads I traveled, giving me the strength, I have, the blessings I have.

Thank you, Lord, for my protection, Amen!

Michael VanDyke @C 2023 ..

Cutting My Wings

 Cut my wings once

That I didn't like

I healed them

So I could fly away

They tried to clip my wings

As they did before

Don't reduce, restrain my freedom

Have to catch me first

As I fly away.....

Michael VanDyke @C 2023