"Post Office"

On a friend's blog today she addresses... "blogging"... and what makes one blog. It sort of justifies one's taking the time to just write. Sort of like we have to have an excuse to sit down and do what we love to do. Blogging makes you feel a little more responsible. You have an "audience" and a commitment. And it's just plain fun!
In the late 1950's my sister and I had an inner circle of friends who would gather at a home and take over a room to play what we called "Post Office". We didn't know that someone had already named another sort of game called "Post Office", but for us, it did not matter. Our game generally took place during the summer vacation period. We gathered to draw, color, cut paper, paste, design and write letters and notes to our good friends in the group. After a given period of time which was usually 20 minutes, someone rang the bell and the "postman" would pick up the mail and divide and stack it according to the addressees. Everyone got something and sometimes more than one or two pieces of mail. We would spend hours doing this. No one had heard of the "Ya-ya Sisterhood" at that point, but it certainly could have been. These were the days of the polio epidemic and parents kept their children indoors during the long, hot summer days.
My blogging gives me that same sort of thrill. I am sending dear friends (some I have never met) a message that says, "you are in my trusted group of friends." I absolutely love it.
The picture above was taken at either my birthday party or my sister's. I am wearing a greenish dress with a big white collar and a hat.

Daddy "B"

My grandfather, Calvin C. Boykin, was a self-made businessman. He spent many years in the hotel business (his hotel was in "Midnight Cowboy") in Texas, New Mexico and Colorado. Later he bought the Breckenridge Eagle, the miniature riding train in San Antonio at the park.

In his hotel days he was at one time president of the Chamber of Commerce in Big Spring, Texas. Big Spring was a overnight stop-over for the trains coming through. He welcomed Linda Darnel to town one time. She was quite a star and only sixteen at the time. At some point later he dealt with Liberace and Lawrence Welk, and that was before Mr. Welk could speak English. My grandfather had entertainers at the hotels for the guests.

He did well for a man who was from Miles, Texas... a very small town outside of San Angelo. He was very particular about his clothes and a person's manners. My grandfather was quite a letter writer and I have typed nearly every letter he wrote to his daughter from around 1950 until the early 1990's.

He truly had an impact on me and I remember his soft, pleasant voice vividly. A wonderful man.

Romantic bridge

This bridge is located between Rochelle and Brady, Texas. My late father wrote on the back that he had walked his first high school date across this bridge. It's so funny to think about my father with someone other than my mother.

Ruby

Ruby Opal Heath Boykin was my paternal grandmother. She was born prematurely and an only child. The doctor placed her in a box near the oven and somehow she survived. She was the center of her mother's universe, popular in school, painted in watercolor, and was deligent with her journaling... and would have been a fabulous blogger. She had so many funny sayings, my favorite one being that she felt like if her earrings were too large she said, "I look like the lead horse in a circus". She was a great cook with red beans and corn bread being two of her specialities. She married my grandfather, Cal Boykin, Sr. and they had three children, my father being the first born. I have worked on her family history off and on for several years. I love to read her journals and scrapbooks. She kept old school programs, pressed flowers, a piece of fabric from my grandfather's wedding shirt. They were a handsome couple and so much in love.

Another Beckham!

Watch out for this 16 month old wonder boy who is going to be the

next Beckham! My grandson loves "futball"... American soccer.

He kicks amazing hard and far. Yes.. I'm one proud "abuela".. which

is my name to my grandchildren.

Jean's Home

My parents stood in front of Jean's home the day after Jean's funeral. (Jean would have loved her funeral Mass... the priest sang all of it.. and had written the music. Just thought I would add that.) The right side of the house is lopped off in the picture. From what I understand, an attorney from Houston has bought it and is remodeling it. I had the chance to go inside and could not believe that even though the kitchen had been redone, it still smelled the same.