A new month rolls around and signals
me to write something in this blog. Spring finally showed for real,
and now it is green and lush looking in the trees and lawns. Farmers
are really scrambling to get finished with putting their crops in.
Gardeners, like Mary, couldn't wait to get the flowers in, but now
she doesn't want to come in the house.
Me, I'm having fun, too, volunteering
at the Heritage Center one morning a week. Two of the galleries have
opened, and good ones they are. It's fun to hear all of the places
they come from – one couple came from South Wales, England to
research family history in the archive library, and a man came from
Luxembourg. I don't think they came just because it opened anew, but
because they just happened in.
I had an interesting phone
conversation with a descendent of the Wade family last evening who is
trying to find out even more than the book I published gave. I have
heard from many in that family who express gratitude that the book
became available. So, even though I made no money with it, it's
surely given me lots of pleasure. Another book is in the works, but
things like that move slowly, maybe after about a year.
I'm still reviewing books for Western
Writers of America, and now have received an additional job from
them. I was contacted by the chairperson of the Spur Awards
committee and asked to judge one category of writing: Best Western
Traditional Novel (to 1940). I asked my editor in Santa Fe how much
reading that will entail, and he assured me it will be plenty. I
hope there are some good ones! I'll get more details on the project
in Sacramento later this month.
We drove to Medora a week ago to take
in some entertainment at the annual poetry and song gathering. We
took time to go through the ND Cowboy Hall of Fame and, as always,
visit the Western Edge Bookstore. The town was just starting to
waken after their winter sleep, and by now, I'm sure they are going
strong. We plan to return this summer and take in the evening stage
show at the amphitheater.
A week ago Bismarck hosted a huge
oilman's convention, around 4,000 registered from 48 states and
several foreign countries. They counted over 40 private jets that
brought bigshots into the airport. I'd like to have attended but the
price of admission was $700, a little steep for my social security
budget. They gathered around each other doing some back-slapping and
trying to figure out how to squeeze more oil out of the ground. If
they'd put as much effort into developing alternative energy sources
to power our cars, we'd have something by now that's cleaner.
In parting, I can tell a bit about the
movie we attended last night – A Million Ways to Die in the West.
It was entertaining, but if a multitude of cuss words coming from men
and women alike bothers you, don't go. Intended as a spoof, it takes
in big territory: sheep ranchers, Indians, prostitutes, gold thieves,
jealous lovers, gunslingers, barroom brawls, the fact that nobody
ever smiled in old time photos, etc., etc. I was afraid my wife
wouldn't like it, but she laughed harder than I did.
