Good Afternoon. Vinnie did not show up for a reading so I was left with time on my hands, so before I leave and greet and meet my daughters for some luscious Chinese food for our dinner. I am doing an extra blog.
I wondered what I wanted to do with myself as I had already taken Miss Rose her lunch, and found her asleep, so didn't awaken her as she has not been feeling up to par. I tiptoed in, placed her food in her refrigerator and closed the door hoping she would rest peacefully. As I opened my apartment door, I spied the dark blue book called "Frontier" by Louis L'Amour with photographs by David Muench. I had recently told you about this book, a short time ago, as it was a gift to me from Ron who said he had two of them. I have offered to buy this book from him as it is a rare book and one I am sure you can't just go out and buy at the local book store. I may be wrong but as I have opened the cover and discovered a treasure, I can hardly believe that we, as readers, have not been introduced to L'Amour's poetry and his history tales. Every history class, of every school, should have these books on their library shelves.
Today I am awe struck as I look at the full page pictures and wish I could frame several. There have been so many pages of thoughts, deeds and words that have flown off the pages to enlighten the mind, the heart and the soul. I would write up paragraphs for you, but then I would want to start in the beginning and type out the entire contents. Best, you see what you can do to find copies of the books for your bookcase and this winter, when you have time and are feeling alone and lonely, open the books and prepare to begin a journey you will never forget.
I am reading about Ghost Towns right now and it bring back a memory or two of my travels in Nevada. Son John took me to one and my friend Helen and I went for an adventurous trip and found a tiny overgrown area that was once a Ghost Town.
An excerpt from Frontiers . . . .
"The old towns, the ghost towns, no longer belong to men. the desert and the mountains have taken them back, gathered them into their arms and made them one with the trees and brush and rocks. The old tunnels are caves where animals live, and the dreams that gave them birth have died or been carried on to other places.
I like to think the last is true, for does a dream ever die? Does it not live on, aching to be realized? If not by you, by someone."'
Doesn't that motivate you to go and find this book and spend some of your valuable time in pure contentment.
Right now I'd love to have a way of showing you the pictures but it is impossible, so you will have to take my word for it.
Be kind to YOU and check your library and see if, by chance, either of the books are there .
You will not be sorry.
I am really in a cowboy mood as I find myself singing "I'm an old cowhand, from the Rio Grand, and I learned to ride, before I learned to stand. Yippee Ki I Ki O,".....Smile....you are not hearing me, so count your blessings.
Hugs to all.
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