Alamodoso Connections October / November 2020

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Alamodoso

Connections

The Lincoln and Otero County magazine About the cover, see page 82 See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

Alamodoso Quilter’s Corner

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CRAZY

Alamodoso Quilter’s Corner

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About Quilting

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he term "crazy quilting" is often used to refer to the textile art of crazy patchwork and is sometimes used interchangeably with that term.

Crazy quilting does not actually refer to a specific kind of quilting (the needle-work which binds two or more layers of fabric together), but a specific kind of patchwork lacking repeating motifs and with the seams and patches heavily embellished.

A crazy quilt rarely has the internal layer of batting that is part of what defines quilting as a textile technique.

Crazy quilts differ from "regular" quilts in other ways as well. Because the careful geometric design of a quilt block is much less important in crazy quilts, the quilters are able to employ much smaller and more irregularly shaped pieces of fabric.

In comparison to standard quilts, crazy quilts are far more likely to use exotic pieces of fabric, such as velvet, satin, tulle, or silk, and embellishments such as buttons, lace, ribbons, beads, or embroidery. Crazy quilting as a textile art is extremely creative and free-flowing by nature, and crazy quilters will often learn as much about specific embellishments as See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Alamodoso Quilter’s Corner they will about crazy quilting itself.

Crazy quilts are extremely laborintensive. A Harper's Bazaar article from 1884 estimated that a full-size crazy quilt could take 1,500 hours to complete Crazy quilts became popular in the late 1800s, likely due to the English embroidery and Japanese art that was displayed at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition. American audiences were drawn to the satin stitches used in English embroidery, which created a painterly surface, which is reflected in many Crazy Quilts.

The displays shown at the Japanese pavilion of silk-screened work and Japanese pottery with a cracked-glaze inspired the American audiences.

Similar aesthetics began to show up in Crazy Quilts, including unique patterns, and stitching that resembled spider webs and fans.

Crazy quilting rapidly became a national fashion amongst urban, upperclass women, who used the wide variety of fabrics that the newly industrialized 19th century textile industry offered to piece together single quilts from hundreds of different fabrics.

Long after the style had fallen out of fashion amongst urban women, it continued in rural areas and small towns, whose quilters adopted the patterns of the urban quilts but employed sturdier, more practical fabrics, and dropped the earlier quilts' ornate embroidery and embellishment.

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Alamodoso Quilter’s Corner

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TOPAZ November Birthstone

November’s birthstone, the topaz, symbolizes love and affection. It is believed to give the wearer increased strength and intellect.

Topaz was once the name for any yellow gem; today, it describes the mineral aluminum fluoro-hydroxy silicate, the hardest of all silicate minerals. Topaz is found in igneous rocks and sometimes hydrothermal veins. ● Topaz is colorless, but impurities turn it almost any hue, with yellow to amber being the traditional tones. ● Blue topaz is rare in nature; those available for sale commonly have been treated. ● Imperial topaz, a reddish orange gem with pink undertones, is the most valuable form.

TOPAZ SYMBOLISM ● The ancient Greeks believed that topaz could make a wearer invisible. ● The gem was also thought to calm anger and balance strong emotions. ● A symbol of honor and strength, topaz was also believed to bring longevity and wisdom.

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8 TOPAZ FOLKLORE ● In the Middle Ages (500–1500 AD), topaz was ground into a powder and mixed with wine to guarantee a good night’s sleep. ● Topaz was also thought to have healing powers—reducing fevers, relieving asthma, improving vision, and preventing premature deat ● If you dream of topaz, a problem with which you have been struggling will soon be solved.

Citrine, an alternate November birthstone, is a form of pale yellow to dark amber quartz, with its yellow tones coming from iron. Natural citrines are rare; most for sale are actually amethyst or smoky quartz that has been heattreated to produce the yellow hue, turning the gem to citrine.

The gemstone is thought to offer the same benefits as topaz, including the ability to calm, heal, encourage prosperity, and protect against snake venom. Citrine is sometimes called “Madeira topaz.”

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November Horoscope

November 2020

Monthly Horoscope ARIES November 2020 Horoscope (March 21 – April 19) It is a quiet month for the first few weeks as no planets are in your sign. Therefore you can focus on doing positive activities without interference. Venus will move into an opposition to Aries in the last weeks and by the 20th it will be square Mars. The effect could make you be full of desires and distraction. Remember, a mind with many desires knows little satisfaction.

Aries Buddhists are motivators. Meditate for the first week and act on those meditative inspirations during the next three weeks. Your love and affection will be strong but you have to decide if the feelings are useful or distracting to your daily practice.

TAURUS November Horoscope 2020 (April 20 May 20) You may feel drawn to things beyond your present situation. The Sun and Mercury run in opposition to Taurus but this movement is not a complication.

Uranus and Mars are positively positioned to first the Sun and then Mercury as the month progresses. That See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

November Horoscope means you have a lot of power to accomplish positive actions.

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Taurus Buddhists work with the present.

This month you have excellent astrological support to accomplish great tasks therefore use this beneficial time well.

GEMINI November 2020 Horoscope (May 21 – June 20) This month all is good. You have Jupiter and Pluto in opposition and that gives you access to deep positive faith.

Although these planets are opposite to Gemini they offer good energy as Jupiter tends to lighten the deep and primal influences of Pluto. You may find you project positive feelings for others easily during this time.

Gemini Buddhists are in a good position to be clear minded and affectionate. Use your positive motivation to benefit others, as for this month you have skill,confidence and grace to

accomplish this perfectly.

CANCER November Horoscope 2020 (June 21 – July 22) This month the Sun, Mercury and Venus all support you from a distance. Pursue your goals but don’t attempt great tasks.

If you lack support from others, you may find large tasks are not fulfilled easily. As many famous teachers often say, “slowly, slowly.”

Cancer Buddhists can relax and just follow their heart. Do things that are in harmony with those around you. Be invisible, moving with the flow of the Mahamudra.

LEO November 2020 Horoscope (July 23 – August 22) You start the month off with great intellectual enthusiasm as Mercury and Neptune are well aspected to your sign.

The month will continue with an intuitive perception of love and affection. This is caused by Venus and Neptune being well positioned to Leo. Therefore enjoy a good month of being broadminded and affectionate.

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November Horoscope Leo Buddhists like to do things with flash and sparkle. This month you have all the astrological aspects to help you accomplish this. Be careful not to let your pride or egotism get in the way and ruin things.

VIRGO November Horoscope 2020 (August 23 – September 22) This month Saturn benefits you with stability and confidence. Saturn is well aspected to the Sun in Scorpio and that adds to the self confident feeling. As the month draws to a close be careful of having strong opinions. It will not manifest until December but you should prepare for feeling stubborn and know how to deal effectively with those feelings.

Virgo Buddhists do things well. Reflect on the interdependence of all phenomena and approach everything with a humble attitude. That will attract support from unsuspected quarters.

LIBRA November 2020 Horoscope (September 23 – October 22) The month starts with great ideas and then shifts to affection and love. Mercury is in your sign for the first weeks and then Venus takes his place. The only issue is Mars will square Venus and that could make you desire too many pleasures. Balance your desire with a sense of control. This same aspect could help you open up and express love if you have been cold hearted in the last months.

Libra Buddhists should work on their motivation for the first days of November and after that act in a graceful manner with poise for the rest of the month. It is a great time to help others and be a positive support.

SCORPIO November Horoscope 2020 (October 23 – November 21) Happy Birthday. You might consider giving your parents a present instead of expecting one from them. They gave you this body and deserve some complimentary gifts in thanks for the life you now live. The month starts with great ability and power. Mars, Uranus and Saturn all support your birthday month.

As the month draws to a close this power See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo

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Discover Alamogordo will diminish but you will have a lot of good energy behind you to keep you going.

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Scorpio Buddhists are the center of attention with this being their birthday month. There are no complications whatsoever, so be joyful and share your good feelings.

SAGITTARIUS November 2020 Horoscope (November 22 – December 21) Happy Birthday. You might consider giving your parents a present instead of expecting one from them. They gave you this body and deserve some complimentary gifts in thanks for the life you now live. Faith and depth of feeling continues this month. Pluto is often given a bad rap as moody, depressive and intense. Pluto for a spiritual individual brings faith into focus. The need to resonate with one’s belief is the main issue with Pluto. This month is wonderful. Jupiter will match the movement of Pluto for the whole month.

Be full of good cheer, the planets are supporting your faith and good will.

Sagittarius Buddhists are inspirational most of the time. November carries this message for you astrologically. Be full of good cheer. Constantly recite OM MANI PADME HUM, or say the prayer of the 4 immeasurables.

CAPRICORN November Horoscope 2020 (December 22 – January 19) Now things are going much better. The Sun, Mercury Uranus, Mars and Saturn all support you. These planets are at a distance though and so you should look for support from others in any projects you undertake this month. Without support the task will not be accomplished.

Capricorn Buddhists can open up and be helpful and sharing for the whole month.

Express your positive nature and help others prepare for the winter months to come.

AQUARIUS November 2020 Horoscope (January 20 – February 18) See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo This month Neptune and Mercury stimulate your Sun sign to new levels of spiritual insight. The first weeks of November are characterized as intellectually stimulating. The last weeks will be more about intuitive love. Venus will align with Neptune after the 15th and you will intuitively know who likes you and who does not.

Aquarius Buddhists are liberal minded.

This month be supportive with your mind and your affection. You have a great ability to perceive situations correctly this month.

PISCES November Horoscope 2020 (February 19 – March 20) This month there is a lot of positive energy available for you. Mars and the Sun are both positively aspected to Uranus in Pisces. This will last for the whole month with just a few minor shifts between the planets. Therefore try to benefit others as best seems suitable.

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T he Horrell War

by Walter Earl Pittman From the Lincoln County Historical Society

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he Horrells of Lampasas County, Texas were a large, extended family, centered on five very tough brothers, relatives and hangers-on.

The Horrell's were tough, earning a reputation as hardworking men, better not crossed, but whose prosperity was derived from other people's cattle.

Reckless, given to periodic drunken sprees, they would "run the town", galloping through the streets shooting at anything that caught their eye.

The local law authorities were thoroughly cowed. Eventually, Capt.

Thomas Williams and seven men of the new state police, created by the despised carpetbag Texas government, were sent into Lampasas. Williams, a Northerner, made the mistake of challenging the Horrell clan in its favorite saloon.

When the smoke cleared, he and three of his men were dead, the others fleeing to Austin. Matt Horrell was wounded.

The Horrells soon decided that New Mexico offered a more congenial climate, and began a leisurely migration westward. Reportedly, their herds mysteriously increased as they moved past other people's ranches.

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Discover Alamogordo The Horrells arrived in October, 1873, in the Hondo Valley where they purchased a homestead. They had the bad luck to arrived when racial feelings were raw.

Not long after their arrival, a Horrell apparently shot and killed a Hispanic neighbor he caught cutting an irrigation ditch. Earlier in the year, John Chisum's cowboys had tracked down and killed some native cattle rustlers from the Manzano region. In February 1873, two Hispanic ranch hands were killed after stealing from John Copeland's ranch.

Copeland and John Riley traveled to Placitas to turn themselves in to the young Probate Judge Juan Patron, who tried to arrest them. As a lynch mob formed they fled to Fort Stanton.

The next day Patron lead a "posse" of heavily armed men out to the ranch. The had no warrants. Before they could do any harm, the Army intervened in the person of Capt. C.M. McKibbin and a detachment of soldiers. McKibbin arrested the entire posse who were taken tot he Fort and held for trial while Copeland and Riley were exonerated.

Thus, when Ben Horrell, ex-Sheriff L,J, Gylam, D.C. Warner, and two other men arrived in town on 1 December, 1873, for a spree, the stage was set for tragedy.

The Texans began drinking early and heavily, creating an uproar. At one point, they were disarmed by the local deputy, Juan Martinez, under Lincoln's gun ordinance that was enforced only against select Anglos. The good time cowboys simply obtained other weapons and continued their spree.

That evening, the festivities moved to a bordello, where Martinez and a posse of White-hating local toughs suddenly appeared to confront the drunken cowboys. What happened is unclear, no unbiased account exists. D.C. Warner killed Martinez, a longtime enemy, and was killed himself. Ben Horrell and Gylam, both wounded, ran but were chased down by the mob and murdered, begging for their lives. They may have been unarmed, even undressed. Their bodies were riddled with bullets. The Horrell family first sought legal redress, but Sheriff Ham Mills, who was married

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Discover Alamogordo into a local Hispanic family, simply refused. Two days later, the bodies of two respectable Hispanic men were found on the Horrell ranch. The war was on.

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Watching with alarm was the Commanding Officer at Fort Stanton, Maj. John Mason. He feared a race war, but believed that very explicit orders constrained from taking action. When the Alcalde appealed for military protection, Mason refused, stating the troops were at Fort Stanton to protect the people from Indians. Nevertheless, when Mason learned, on 5 December 1874, of a large (40-50 man) posse forming on Eagle Creek, he sent a detachment under Capt. McKibben to watch the proceedings but not to interfere. He hope the presence of the troops would calm the situation.

It didn't and the mob swarmed to the Horrell Ranch. There, they met a line of heavily armed Horrells, grimly awaiting them. The sight seems to have cooled their anger. The Horrells offered to surrender to any legal authority that could guarantee their lives and a fair trial. But that was not to be had in Lincoln County.

The Sheriff had no warrants, no charges had been filed and both the Justice of the Peace and the Probate Judge had fled the County when the bullets started flying.

For a few days, Lincoln County was quieter. But the Horrels weren't through.

They had learned that Juan Patron had killed Ben and wanted revenge. On the night of 20 December "about twentyfive" Horrelss and their friends rode to Lincoln. There was a wedding that day and a baile that night.

Hiding out until nearly midnight the Horrell gang rode in, shot out the lights and then began firing nearly at random into the long adobe building (Convento) where the dance was held. Juan Patron wasn't there, but they killed his father and three other men and wounded three bystanders.

Ex-Sheriff William Brady and Maj. Mason hurriedly worked to control the situation despite their lack of authority.

The Horrells agreed not to attack Lincoln if they were left alone. Mason stationed Capt. Edward G. Fechet and a troop in

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Discover Alamogordo Lincoln for a few days despite the fact he could not legally intervene.

The fear of the Army was that it would be dragged into a feud. In fact, Sheriff Ham Mills did appear at Fort Stanton and attempted to call out the entire garrison as a posse comitatus to reinforce his Hispanic posse. The Commanding Officer refused, but in January 1875, a Judge issued warrants for the Horrells' arrest.

It was an open invitation to murder them. A large posse (c. 45 men) headed for the Horrell ranch on 20 January 1875.

The Horrells refused to surrender to the posse but offered to surrender to the Army. Capt. McKibben with a detachment of soldiers had followed, under orders to watch but take no part.

McKibben couldn't accept the surrender nor guarantee the Horrells' safety. The posse soon gave up and rode back to Lincoln.

The Horrells, realizing their hopelessness, also gave up and, gathering their families, headed to Roswell en route to Texas. On the way, they came across a wagon train and someone murdered five Hispanic teamsters. Earlier, two innocent Anglos had been shot by some of the Horrell band simply because they were married to "Mexicans". The Lincoln posse now greatly enlarged, and under Jimmy Dolan's leadership, returned to the Horrell ranch to loot and burn the place.

In Roswell, the Horrells recruited cowboy volunteers from the Pecos region that may have numbered 75 men. They headed toward Lincoln to take their vengeance. For some reason, they turned back. Legend says that the Horrells grew horrified at their cohort's bloodthirsty intentions to kill everyone in Lincoln.

The Horrells returned to Lampasas, Texas, where they were soon involved in another feud, the "Horrell-Higgins War" which decimated the family. The Horrell War left a lot of dead bodies (29 known dead, maybe as many as 75), and a bitterly divided Lincoln County. It could have been a lot worse without the presence of the Army at Fort Stanton, whose commanders stretched the authority they had to prevent even more violence. Three times Army detachments stood by as the two armed mobs faced

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Fiesta Manufactured Homes

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Fiesta Manufactured Homes

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Discover Alamogordo one another and each time, their presence served as an inhibiting factor limiting the violence.

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After returning to Lampasas, Texas, the Horrells secured a jury of their old cronies and were promptly acquitted of the New Mexico murders. But the crimes would catch up with them in a way. In 1877, Merritt Horrell died in a bar fight with rancher “Pink” Higgins. Since everyone remembered the massacres triggered by Ben Horrell’s death, the terrified Higgins family decided that they had no option but to strike first .

In March, the Higgins clan ambushed Tom and Mart Horrell on their way to court. But they were no match for a hardened killer like Mart Horrell, who stood over his wounded brother and single-handedly drove off the attackers.

By June, Lampasas had become a miniature war zone, as the feuding families battled each other through the town .

The Texas Rangers ended the feud by forcing the clans to sign a “peace treaty.”

Astonishingly, the Horrells were allowed to continue their criminal ways for another year, until Mart and Tom were murdered by an enraged mob, apparently incited by Pink Higgins.

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he Gallinas massacre or the Gallinas Mountains massacre was an engagement of the Apache Wars on September 2, 1861 between a war party of Mescalero Apache warriors and four Confederate soldiers in the Gallinas Mountains of what is now Lincoln County, New Mexico. The incident occurred early in the American Civil War, at a time when the area was claimed by the Confederate States of America as part of Confederate Arizona and military control of the territory had not yet been decisively established by either Union or Confederate forces.

On September 1, 1861, at Fort Stanton, Confederate Lieutenant John Pulliam dispatched four of his men from the Army of New Mexico to the Gallinas Mountains, a day's ride away. Their objective was to watch for any approaching Union forces. Lieutenant Pulliam ordered the men to make camp a safe distance from the spring in the mountains. Not fearing attack, the four ignored this order and camped just 100 yards from the creek in a heavily wooded area. The four soldiers were T.G. Pemberton, Joseph V. Mosse, Joseph Emmanacker and Floyd A. Sanders. It is not known which of the four was in command.

The next morning, at breakfast time, three Apaches were seen running through the surrounding pine trees. Immediately breakfast was stopped and the men saddled their horses. At this time, a

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shower of arrows rained down upon the Confederates from about thirty Apaches who had surrounded the camp. The four dismounted and took cover behind the pines and then attempted to shoot their muskets. To much surprise, all four of the weapons failed to fire. This suggests that either the Apaches had tampered with the muskets during the night or mountain dew had dampened their gunpowder.

The Confederates then drew their revolvers and a skirmish began that lasted for almost two hours. By that time, Mosse, Emmanacker and Pemberton were dead. Floyd Sanders, left to fight alone, mounted Mosse's horse and escaped by riding down an almost vertical mountainside.

The Apaches pursued him in a running fight which went on for ten miles. This account was what Sanders reported to Lieutenant Pulliam upon arriving back at Fort Stanton. Apache casualties are unknown.

Within the next couple of days, a Confederate force of 15 men proceeded to the Gallinas Mountains; there they recovered the remains of Mosse and Emmanacker. Pemberton's body was never found.

The Confederates returned to Fort Stanton on September 8; that same evening, Lieutenant Pulliam was dispatched with 15 men to Placitas to fight the Apaches there.

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Have you ever marveled at the intricate beauty of a spider's web after it has been kissed by the morning dew?

Have you ever seen the sun through a blanket of fog and realized the sun isn't that very far away from you?

Have you ever looked at the moon when round and full and thought the moon was

smiling at you, and just for you?

Have you ever gazed at the stars on a See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Have you ever gazed at the stars on a clear night and felt the weight of Time

deep within your chest?

Then we are kindred spirits under Heaven.

Gloria Marie AKA Globug On New York Ave

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TRUE COMFORT

By Junior Thurman of Artesia

Plaid, flannel sleep pants, stretchy waist band. Dang, where have they been all my life. Talk about comfort, my daughter bought me a pair a while ago, the most comfortable pair of pants I ever wore. Like walking around the house on a cloud. I think she bought em for me last Christmas, and I, thankful for the gift, was actually leaning toward wearing them to our annual “Christmas dinner family gathering.” Unfortunately, my wife, less adventurous, narrow minded and stubborn. said, “No.” Okay, here’s my thinkin, l don’t wear pajama’s to bed. So, “Here’s the question.” Since I don’t wear pajamas while sleeping, wouldn’t it then be proper and acceptable to wear em out and about?

For instance, sittin in my recliner watching “Gunsmoke,” my wife wants me to run down the street for a loaf of bread. A quick trip, which in my mind would be okay accomplished in my plaid, flannel, comfortable non/sleep See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo pants......huh? Hey, I’m just talking about a quick in and out. Dangit, the darn plaid design needs to go.

Now, I know I’ve seen shameless men in the grocery store wearing the pajama pants, but, I think these misguided deviants actually slept in theirs. A big difference, mine weren’t slept in. Ha. Technically, if I don’t sleep in em, they’re not pajamas, which I calmly explained to my wife. Like I said, the woman’s stubborn and inflexible.

Dang, when will the clothing manufacturers wake up and start producing a plaid flannel pajama pant that looks like jeans or slacks, without the discomfort of an abrasive, inflexible pair of pants.

I can almost see me now, shopping at Wallyworld, dashing and daring, looking nice, comfortable, in my new pair of comfort fitting jean/jamas, dancing at the lodge, swinging the girls around, dipping and diving, or, out in the wilderness, roughing it, livin off the land sporting my soft, comfort fitting camo/jamas.

They could advertise em in catalogs, we’ve all seen the sporting goods catalogs showing several men standing around in pajamas or long handles.

Alarming, huh! And it should be, real mountain men don’t stand around the fireplace In their underwear smoking pipes and drinking cocktails. It’s unheard of. Any old pair of baggy, dirty, long handles will do in a real wilderness camp.

Nope, maybe we oughta forget photos for advertising. On second thought, maybe just a photo of a wilderness camper sittin around the campfire sipping a cup of cowboy coffee wearing his camo/jamas with matching socks and bandana........

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DYNAMITE

Dynamite was a horse, and a very sick horse was he! When Uncle Ed Calentine first brought him down from Cloudcroft to our Tularosa farm to recuperate, I believe that Dad and Uncle Ed wondered if the poor horse would actually make it through whatever it was making him sick. As a nine-year-old child, I was never told why he was sick, but the animal was skin and bones. Occasionally I heard it mentioned that he was starving to death.

We invite you to stop in for a Free blood pressure check

Uncle Ed brought Dynamite from the mountains on the back of an old truck.

He and Dad unloaded the poor horse onto a small haystack in the pasture behind our old adobe farm house. It was so weak it could hardly hold its brown head up and they had to help it down onto the hay from the truck. Later I wondered about that and came to the conclusion that Dad and Uncle Ed were right. It was just starving. All that poor horse did for several weeks was wander aimlessly around the pasture to eat hay, graze fresh grass, drink water, eat grain, and go back to eating again. After a couple of weeks, its belly began to fill out over its ribs. It began to show some signs of life. One day it actually whinnied.

The day came when Dad put a bridle on Dynamite and let me climb atop of him bareback. I rode around the yard for a short while and Dynamite didn’t seem to mind. Each day we went for short bareback walks. Then, on a later day, Dad put a saddle on him and I could get See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo on without having to find a could stand beside him and manage to straddle him.

All was working out well, until one day after lunch. I rode Dynamite alongside Dad on his way back to the upper field to the John Deere tractor where Dad was plowing. I stayed close by, back in the nearby lower field, while Dad went over to start that big green 2-cylinder tractor with the big lug wheels. Dynamite stood docile until the first loud hiss issued from the John Deere when Dad began to spin the big flywheel on the tractor to start it.

As the first loud "POMP" sounded, Dynamite whirled toward the house and began running. He galloped full speed across the top of the lower field, raced across the dry irrigation ditch, ran through the back yard, under the cottonwood branches on the west side of the house, past the kitchen window, streaked past the big fig tree, across the pasture to the side of the grape vineyard, where he came to an abrupt stop.

I had never ridden a horse so fast. In fact, I'd never ridden a run-away horse before. I was leaning as far forward as possible and hanging on for dear life when he stopped. I flew forward from the saddle, circling his neck and grabbing his mane as I flew. I ended up standing in front of him. To this day I don’t know how I landed on my feet and not thrown, but I did and was so thankful to be standing there after that exhilarating ride was over.Mom had come running out of the house when she heard the horse race past. She knew something was wrong as I never rode on the west side of the house.

She saw the abrupt stop and miraculous landing. Dad never knew I was gone until he climbed onto the tractor and saw I wasn’t there.

I did ride Dynamite after that, but never again down by the John Deere. It wasn’t long after that when Dynamite was pronounced well enough to return to his Cloudcroft home in Uncle Ed's mountain pasture where, I suppose, he lived happily ever after.

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There are 200,000 Americans estimated to currently be afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease, a type of dementia. It doesn’t seem that almost 10 years have passed since I was in the throes of ending my journey as a caretaker for the man with whom I had shared 37 years. He had vascular dementia. Fifty years of cigarette smoking had caused a buildup of plaque in his left carotid artery and blocked the flow of blood to his brain. Surgery, we learned over time, could not save him.

During the last 6 months of his life, I wrote short stories of the experiences that took place.

If it were not for these writings, I would have forgotten many of the episodes. At the time, it was the way I eased my anxieties, not realizing it would be useful later on as a reminding record of the emotional ordeal. Because so many people are involved with this unfortunate disease, I am sharing my experience with the hope that it will help ease the pain and confusion so many now are experiencing, have experienced, or may experience in the future. I will forever be grateful to my sister and brotherin-law, Ellen and Charles Spoon, and so many others, for the support and generosity that helped me get through the most difficult ordeal of my life.

Julie Lloyd Tularosa, New Mexico BEGINNING: THE WINDS OF CHANGE I refused to look back at the house that I had called home for over thirty years. My jaw set firm, muscles tensed, and tears held back, I looked straight ahead. I didn’t want to see, for what I felt See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo was the last time, the line of trees just beginning to bud that lined the roadway.

I didn’t want to remember when Jim and I had planted them as saplings, tended them, watching them through the years as they grew, sending their spreading limbs out over the drive. I didn’t want to feel the extra pain of leaving them. Charles, my brother-in-law, drove his vehicle slowly, dodging the ruts that had developed in the graveled driveway that Jim used to keep so well-groomed. He pulled out the open gate and headed toward the highway in the distance.

Jim’s familiar voice called softly, “Where’s Julie?”

I answered, “I’m here, Jim. Julie is right here.” I patted his leg automatically to comfort him. “I’m Julie. I’m your wife.”

“No, you’re not Julie,” he said with conviction. “Where did she go? I want to know why Julie isn’t here.” He paused before plaintively asking, “Isn’t she coming with me?”

Tears brimmed in my eyes but I kept my voice strong. “It’s all right, dear.

Don’t worry. Julie will be with you. She will take care of you.” The words appeased him and he sat quietly. A puff of wind lifted powdered dust from the roadside and blew it across the road as Charles pulled the vehicle onto the twolane asphalt highway. It was that moment that I knew my life would never be the same again. Much as I hated leaving behind my hometown, my home, and the seventy-three years of everything familiar to me, I was sure this was the only way to be close to family and get the medical help Jim needed.

The doctor’s words echoed in my mind. “His left carotid artery is blocked.

The ultrasound shows one place where the blood is reversing its flow to the brain. Where the artery branches, the blood is blocked to his left arm. There is no place in this local area where the necessary surgery can be done. Is there a convenient city you can go where there this kind of surgery is available?”

My mind had swirled at the news and I thought of family members who lived in or near cities where medical help was possible. My thoughts settled on my

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sister who lived the closest. I asked the doctor, “Would Lubbock have hospitals that could take care of him?”

“Yes, they do, ” he said, nodding his head affirmatively. “In fact, I knew a surgeon there who took good care of a patient of mine about five years ago. If he is still there, I will refer you to him.”

Jim shifted his weight next to me, immediately bringing my focus back to the present. Through the windshield, I saw another wave of dust coming across an open field ahead. Suddenly I felt that Jim and I were being blown away to another existence. Relaxing my tense body, I leaned a bit forward, sadly allowing my mind to accept where these winds of change would take us.

As the miles melted away, I let my mind go back to the first time I was truly aware that something was wrong.

Something was very definitely wrong. It had started on a morning at 5:45 a.m. in early April. Jim didn’t know why we were getting up so early or why we had to get lab tests done at the hospital. We made it through dressing and not eating or drinking anything before the tests.

When we started to leave, I told him that I would drive. “No. I can drive,” he said.

Before we reached the highway, he asked, “What car do you drive?”

“I drive this one,” I replied. “We both drive this one.”

He asked, “Why do you drive this one?”

“Because it’s the only car we have,” I told him.

“This is mine and Julie’s car." he replied. Without looking at me, he asked, "Who are you?”

By this time he had turned onto the highway. Several miles down the road, halfway to La Luz, he braked the car and pulled onto the shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just want to know what’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want to know what’s See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo highway. Several miles down the road, halfway to La Luz, he braked the car and pulled onto the shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just want to know what’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want to know what’s going to happen.”

“Well, for one thing, you’re going to get hit or hit somebody if you keep this up.”

“No, I’m well off the road. But, what’s going to happen? And, where’s Julie?”

“I’m Julie,” I said. “This is me. I’m you’re wife.”

“No, you’re not,” he insisted. “And, you’ve been lying to me. You’ve been conning me. Now, what’s going on?

Where are we going?”

I tried explaining again the situation and he pulled back on the road. When he passed the traffic light on Scenic Drive, I asked if he planned to turn down Indian Wells.

“I don’t know where I’m going to turn. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

By this time, my heart was beating triple time and I thought if I didn’t have high blood pressure already, this would give it to me. The traffic light at Indian Wells was green and he went straight down the highway.

“You just passed Indian Wells. That’s where you need to turn to get to the hospital.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it wasn’t easy. “Turn down one of these side streets and we can get back on the right road.” When he didn’t listen, the panic emerged. I yelled, “Turn down this street, that street, any street! Just turn onto one of these streets!”

Something worked because he turned.

He drove east until he came to Florida. I tried to have him turn left to get back on Indian Wells, but he kept going straight.

“We can even stop at the doctor’s office if you want,” I said, hoping the

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suggestion might help. It didn’t.

It’s our Privilege to serve our community’s young families and teens with the challenges of unplanned pregnancies.

“Why go to the doctor. He’s in on this conspiracy,too. In fact, he started it.”

Finally, at Oregon, he had to make a turn. As it happened, there is a park on Oregon and he pulled into one of the convenient pull-ins. He was driving very slowly, so I opened the door and told him to stop.

“I’m getting out here and I will walk,” I demanded.

He saw that I was getting out, so he slowed to a stop. I walked up on the grass to an old metal picnic table and sat down to catch my breath and let my heart rest a moment.

Then I started walking down a pathway toward the end of the park. He finally drove back onto Oregon, then to Indian Wells, before turning right toward the mountains.

That was when I pulled the cell phone from my purse and called the doctor’s office. It was too early for his office hours, so I dialed 911.

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To make a long story short, two officers responded in a short time at the intersection of Dewey Lane and Oregon.

Jim was making his second pass and one of the officers stopped him.

He talked to him a while, got him out of the car, got him to hand over his keys, then brought him to where the other officer stood with me. They said they would help get Jim to the hospital.

One officer would take Jim; the other would take me. When the officer with Jim drove around the corner, the other asked if I could drive. I said that I could, so he handed me the keys.

“You drive to the hospital and I’ll follow you. That way, you’ll have the car when you’re through.” went smoothly. I didn’t know what the officer told him, but Jim was quite mild from then on. I vividly recalled that this day didn’t go very well and I was glad it was over.

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Discover Alamogordo and had I no clue what loomed ahead.

For sure, I thought, I will not…repeat, will not…be getting in a car again with Jim as the driver. His driving is bad enough, but these episodes with Alzheimer’s, dementia, or whatever is more than I care to experience again ANGER AND CONFUSION:

This is not a happy piece of writing, but it is a truthful one.

Nothing about the advancement of Alzheimer’s is happy. True, humorous events take place that makes us smile, but underlying most smiles you will find sadness.

As with all things, there are good times and bad times.

Unfortunately, the particular set of experiences related here was not enjoyable, but they happened nonetheless. An individual, who was aware of these happenings, asked me if Jim would have been happy to provide this material in exchange for how terrible it actually was. My answer would have to be, “If he thought that someone else could learn or benefit from these experiences, then he would acquiesce to it being written. Had he known in advance how traumatic the entire experience was, he probably would have passed up the opportunity to have lived it.”

ANGER AND CONFUSION: While Ellen was driving back home from Jim’s doctor’s appointment, he asked, “Is Julie really here? Are you really Julie?”

“Yes, Jim. I’m here and I’m really Julie,” I answered.

His words were urgent when he asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m right here in the seat behind you,” she answered.

He reached his hand back for me to See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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take and he held it for quite a long while.

Once more at home, I made him a quick sandwich for lunch. While I was making the sandwich, he asked me to tell him what had happened that morning. I patiently related what had happened during his visit to the doctor and what the doctor had said to him.

“Thank you,” he said and kissed me.

“That wasn’t much of a kiss, but I have a sore lip.”

“That’s strange. So do I,” I told him.

He asked, “Did I do that to you?”

I wondered if he remembered striking out at me the night before. I hesitated before answering. “Yes, Jim,” responding softly. "Yes, you did it.”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, and then he started crying.

“It’s all right, Jim. You didn’t mean to.”

I held his hand, stroking it gently until his tears stopped. Placing his sandwich on the table, I then sat down with a glass of milk.

“Is your sandwich ok?” I asked.

Without a word, he got up from the table, taking his fork with him, and went to the front door. When he came back, he glared at me.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I’ve been here all the time.”

“You better leave right now. And, I mean you better leave now.”

He continued to glare at me. “You know what happens if you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

I stood up, opened the back door and went outside.

“You come back here right now,” he yelled.

I went around the house and was heading next door to Ellen’s home when he yelled from the front door, See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Alamogordo “Come back here you sleazy son-of-abitch.”

In about fifteen minutes, I returned to my house to check on him. I noticed that he had placed the doormat on a plastic chair on the porch. He had put another plastic chair inside. An unopened can of V-8 juice sat on the inside windowsill. I looked in the open door, but couldn’t see him.

He had moved the wooden rabbit that held his dum-dum pops from the top of the fridge and set it on the kitchen island counter. His shirt lay across the computer scanner. I went to the closed back door and saw that he had set out a small bottle of tap water along with a gallon bottle of water. He was going from the dining room to the kitchen and didn’t see me. I thought it sounded as if he had one boot on and one off.

When he went into the living room, I quietly backed away from the door before he saw me. At least he was still home and safe, but I needed to get back inside.

It was just a few minutes later when he came out the front door in his stocking feet, flashlight in hand, long-sleeve shirt on over his t-shirt, and his ball cap pulled down on his head.

I went to the back door and saw nobody, heard nothing. When I went inside, I noticed the bedroom door was closed. I went to the fridge, opened the door, and picked up a gallon of milk.

When I turned back, I saw him standing outside of the back door, looking at me.

Shivers ran through my body and my stomach dropped.

“Hi,” I said, trying to be very calm. “I came to get some milk.”

“Everyone needs milk sometimes,” he replied, then immediately demanded, “Now put that milk back.”

I was already crossing the living room as I said, “OK, I’ll leave it outside.”

He yelled something unintelligible as I exited the house and returned to Ellen’s kitchen. A few minutes later, he came walking up the sidewalk. I went outside and asked if he needed anything to eat.

He said, “Hi, Babe. What did you

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say?”

I repeated the question.

“No, I’ve had enough to eat.”

“Would you like some cake?” I asked.

He smiled up at me, and then replied, “I always have room for cake.”

His anger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Everything had returned to normal for the moment, but I knew it would happen again. I just didn’t know when or how long it would last. I knew I would never be able to let my guard down at any time if I was to be safe with this man I loved so much.

Feeling helpless, frustrated, and desperate, I could only hope that the aid and support needed from the medical community would come soon. They seemed concerned only with his physical condition. She needed a doctor’s referral to a neurologist for his cognitive deterioration, but nobody seemed to be listening. She wondered in desperation, How much longer can I keep this up?

What am I to do?

DRUGGER On one particular day, I was tired from the day’s activities, I accidentally dropped one of Jim’s daily pills as I started to give it to him. I bent down to pick it up. Jim instantly grabbed my arms and pulled me back.

“Jim, let me go. I need to pick up your pill that I just dropped.”

“You know you aren’t supposed to take drugs," He pushed me toward a chair and sat me down, admonishing me all the while. "You know they are bad for you.

You know what they will do to you.

Now, you sit there. I’m going to turn you into the government for having illegal drugs if you don’t do what I say.”

I started to get up, but he pushed me back into the chair. “Listen, you’re a drugger, and you’re under my supervision now. I don’t want to catch

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Granada Shopping Center

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Granada Shopping Center you with any more drugs.”

“Okay,” I said, placating him. “Just let me get them all together so I can put them up out of the way.”

“No! You stay right there. I’ll take care of them,” He started gathering up the bottles of aspirin, pravastatin, and Divalproex that were prescribed for him. Ellen came in at that moment and he took the medicine to her.

“I want you to keep this stuff out of her hands.”He pointed at me. “She can only have one of these a day.”

He picked up a pen off the table and began to write on the medicine bottle.

“She can only have two of these a day,” he said, writing on the other bottle. “Now don’t let her have any more than that.”

He signed his initials on the label and gave everything to Ellen who looked wonderingly at me.

“All right, Jim,” she said when she saw me nod my head in agreement. “I’ll put them up right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim apologized as he turned back to me, but he was still angry.

“You’re a drugger and you are now under my supervision. If you don’t do what I say, I’ll have to put you in isolation.” He took her by the arm, helped her from the chair, and said, “Now, let's go sit out on the porch where I can watch you.”

They went outside and sat side by side on the long porch bench. He firmly held her hand all the while. She sat calmly beside him until he began to relax. It was almost an hour later before he finally loosened his grip and asked her if she was hungry.

“I could probably eat a little something,” I said. “Would you like something to eat, too.”

“Yes,” he said, shaking his head affirmatively. “That would be real nice.”

“Then let’s go to the kitchen and see what we can find to eat.”

Story continues page 54

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Discover Alamogordo I got up, y hand still in his, and led him into the house.

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“How about a grilled ham and cheese,” I asked.

“Oh, that sounds good. I like grilled ham and cheese sandwiches,” he said with a smile. “Don’t forget the ketchup,” he added.

“No,” I agreed. “For sure, we can’t forget your ketchup.”

She sighed inwardly but smiled at him. Another crisis has been dealt with, she thought. I wonder how many more there are left to go?

The next day, Jim helped me unpack the boxes our friends had brought to us.

Each time a new item came out, Jim would be surprised. He was especially happy to get his hands on his flashlights.

When I unpacked one of the boxes and found three of them, he promptly took them and lined them on the headboard of the bed, making frequent trips to pick them up and turn them off and on to make sure they were working.

“Oh, look, Pumpkin” he exclaimed as he unpacked one of his favorite black thermal coffee mugs. "Here’s my favorite mug.”

Then he found two pairs of new jeans that had been in his dresser drawer at home. He held them up, smiling broadly, and told her, “Well, I guess I won’t be needing any more new jeans for a while.”

“Oh, Jim, you’re like a kid in a candy store,” I told him. A feeling of happiness flowed through me as I watched him react with such joy and enthusiasm. I was equally happy that he had forgotten all about the drug incident and had taken his pills without further hesitation since then.

From that time forward, I always held each pill carefully, making sure not to drop any, especially if Jim was anywhere nearby.

WANDERING A spasm of self-pity hit me as I made Jim’s breakfast of two eggs, hash browns, chopped turkey breast, two pieces of toast with apricot jam, and a cup of coffee.

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Discover Alamogordo I ’ve lost my best friend, my buddy, my lover, my companion, I thought as hot tears silently coursed down my cheeks. Even though he’s physically here, I miss the conversations we used to have. I miss the playful arguments we both enjoyed. I miss his mind. I simply miss Jim. I almost managed to keep my tears hidden and under control, but as Jim finished his meal, he noticed something was wrong. Rising from the table, he came and put his arms around me.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” he said with concern. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, I’m just feeling a little sad this morning,” I managed to tell him.

“The best thing for that,” he said, “is to take a little walk. Come with me and we’ll walk. That will help you feel better.”

He led me out the back door and we walked around the back yard a couple of times. Slowly, we strolled along the line of tall cedar trees that separated our yard from the neighbor. Then we circled the huge pecan tree until I told him my leg was hurting. I sat down beside the back door in a white plastic lawn chair that had been loaned to us. Jim looked down at me and asked, “Can I trust you to wait here until I get back?”

I smiled because we had made a game of waiting. Frequently, I would need to go inside the house for something.

Although I returned almost immediately, Jim would leave. Or, his mind would forget me and he would think I was someone else instead. If I told him I would be right back, he would say, “No you won’t. You always say that, but you never come back.” I wished I knew what was happening with his memory and his ability to recognize me.

“Just remember,” he said seriously, pulling my mind back to him. “No wandering. Just wait here.”

“Okay, Jim, I’ll wait here,” I promised.

He went into the house, shuffling from room to room. Then it went quiet. I waited a few minutes, then decided to check on him. He was standing at the Continue page 60

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Discover Alamogordo gate to Ellen’s house, trying to get the gate latched.

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Ellen came out of her house and started down the walk toward Jim when she saw me watching at the end of the fence.

She called out, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I’m just watching him fasten the gate.”

Ellen walked over and said, “I’m sure glad to see you out here. He came in and told me I was needed at his house. He said you were sick. He was rubbing his tummy and moaned a bit, then said, ‘She’s having trouble with Number Two.’” Both of us broke into ASPIRIN INCIDENT I stood looking at the aspirin I held for Jim in one hand and the glass of water in the other. It seemed something came over me that numbed my brain. It was almost like I had left my body and was watching from a distance. I lifted my hand, popped the aspirin into my mouth and took a swallow of water.

I stood, suspended at the moment, and then my brain snapped back into place and I gasped. “Oh, my God! What have I done?”

Panic rose up inside of me as I realized I had taken a pill that could have a deadly effect. I hurried into the living room and told Jim, “I don’t know how or why I did it, Jim, but I just took your aspirin.”

I stood looking at him as he stared back at me. I didn’t feel any change in my breathing. It had been thirty years since I took the aspirin that sent me to the emergency room with a reaction that had almost killed me. It was then I learned I was allergic to aspirin and that could lead to anaphylactic shock that could lead to death in a matter of minutes if left untreated. From that time on, I had taken only Tylenol that gave no reaction.

Years before, it had been only seconds after I swallowed the aspirin that it had taken effect. Now, as my mind searched how my body felt, nothing seemed wrong. Except for the panic from taking the pill, I felt nothing.

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Discover Alamogordo “Maybe it has been long enough that it won’t bother me” I told Jim. Instinctively, I reached for a piece of paper and a pen and began to write what I had done.

“I’m doing this just in case something happens, Jim. So if you can’t tell them what is wrong, somebody will know what it is. Then, at least, they won’t blame you.”

Almost forty minutes went by before I began to feel a quickening in her heartbeat and tightness in my chest. I knew the allergic reaction was coming and I didn’t know how much time I had. I reached for the phone and dialed my nephew’s number. He didn’t answer and I knew I was running out of time. I made sure there was plenty of medication in her respirator and began treatment. At the same time, I dialed 911. Jim stood anxiously watching her, not knowing what to do.

“911 emergency. How can I help you?”

“Asthma attack,” I said loudly, taking my mouth fromthe respirator. I answered the questions asked from the other end of the line, feeling the attack worsening by the second.

“Oh my, God! Please hurry!”

“They are on the way. Stay on the phone, ma’am. Don't hang up,” the voice said. “What is that noise I hear? Are you using a respirator?”

“Yes,”I gasped. “It’s Duo-Neb, an albuterol mix.”

My head was whirling and I found it hard to focus on anything but the next breath, the next inhalation of medication, but I tried to listen.

“They should almost be there, ma’am.

Hang in there.”

“Oh, my God! Please hurry!” I heard myself saying over and over.

I thought I heard someone at the door.

I thought I told Jim to let them in. I thought… there were no more thoughts.

There suddenly was nothing.

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase I didn’t know how much later it was before I regained consciousness in the hospital. Someone was telling me not to try to talk. I felt someone pat my hand.

“Be patient,” the voice advised. I lay there, very still. I felt her mouth was propped open. I couldn’t move my tongue. Something was moving in my throat. I heard the voice say, “We’re taking out the tubes right now. It won’t be but a minute. Your throat may be a little sore, but you’re ok.”

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase

Then I heard someone else say, “You can untie her arms now. She's relaxed.”

My nose began to itch and I tried wrinkling it. I heard the voice ask, “Does your nose itch?”

I thought I nodded “yes,” and I heard a slight laugh as a hand reached down.

“Here, let me scratch it for you.” She felt instant relief. Once the tubes were removed, the voice asked, “Can you talk now?’

I worked my mouth and then heard my own scratchy voice say, “I think so.”

The voice said, “She’s talking.”

Then directing a question at me, it asked, “Do you remember what happened?”

“I accidentally took an aspirin. I’m allergic to them. I called 911.”

“This is wonderful,” the voice said.

“She remembers everything. There’s been no damage to the brain.”

I didn’t ask but assumed nobody knew how long I had been unconscious when the 911 team found me. They didn’t know whether my brain had been affected by a lack of oxygen until I regained consciousness.

I almost thanked them for assuming I had a brain, but then decided that now was not a good time for humor.

“How is Jim?” I asked, concerned. “Is he all right? Is someone taking care of him?”

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase “Don't worry. He will be okay,” the voice told me. “Jerry is taking good care of him. You get some rest right now.

You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

Two days later, I was released from the hospital with strict orders to always report the aspirin allergy to any medical person.

When I got out of the car, Jim was sitting on the front porch. He saw me and immediately got up. For a moment, he stood watching, and then a huge grin came across his face. He threw open his arms and rushed to me. As he held me close, he kept saying, “I’m so glad to see you. I thought you were dead. Oh, I’m so glad you’re not. I missed you so much.”

I leaned back to look at him, brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, smoothed his grey beard, and kissed him.

“I missed you, too, Jim. I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry you had to go through this.”

I choked back the tears and smiled up at him.

"I’m so glad to be back with you.”

It was several days later, when I was talking with Jerry, my nephew, that I heard what had happened after the paramedics arrived to find me slumping unconscious to the floor.

“I have never been so scared in my life,” Jerry told m. “I heard the call come over my volunteer fire station cell number and told my boss, ‘Hey, I’ve gotta go. That’s my parents' address," and I was gone. In four minutes I was home.

The EMS ambulance and fire trucks were already there. When I went in, the paramedics were cutting off your clothes and starting to use the paddles because you were unconscious. Your face hadn't turned blue. It was purple. I thought then that there was no chance you would live.

The last person I saw looked like that didn't make it.”

His voice took on urgency as he relived the scene, and the words poured Story continues page 66 See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase out of him. “Poor Uncle Jim was pushed into a corner and some of the firefighters kept him back away from you. I went right to him and told the guys that he had some mental problems, and I’d take over.

One of the guys said Uncle Jim told him she took a bear. I asked him again what you took and it sounded like he said, ‘She took a bear.’"

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"Uncle Jim kept saying, 'They are hurting her. Look at the blood."

"It was caused when they were doing the intubation, I guess".

‘It’s okay,’ I told him. ‘They’re not hurting her. They are helping her with the tube so she can breathe.'"

He tried to follow them to the ambulance when they took you out and it was all I could do to hold him back. God! He’s a strong guy. I kept telling him they would take good care of you, but that he couldn’t go with them.”

Jerry shook his head as if to rid his mind of the thoughts surging through it, yet he continued to talk, telling me about Jim. “He stood at the fence, watching, and asked who the man and woman were who was putting you in the ambulance. I told him I didn’t know who they were.

He asked if they were...let me see if I can remember the names.” He paused a moment. "Do you know a Jim Leo and Evelyn Webb?”

“Yes,” Susan said. “Jim Leo was a good friend of his who passed away several years ago. Evelyn is another friend who lives not far from us in Tularosa and visits often.”

“Well,” Jerry continued, “I didn’t know what to say, so I told him that might be who they were. Then he told me that it was okay because they would take good care of you. When the ambulance pulled away, Uncle Jim asked if you were dead and I told him you were going to be all right. He put his head down on the fence rail and cried. It was quite a while before I could get him to come back to the house. When we did go back, I started to clean up where you had been, and I picked up a piece of tubing they had discarded and Uncle Jim told me, That's not yours. You better put that back.’

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase "I put it in the trash so he wouldn’t see it and be reminded about it. Every now and then he would ask if you were dead. I kept telling him that you were alive and you would be okay.”

Jerry exhaled a long, slow breath, and then began again. “Then I found the note you wrote lying on the counter. When I read it, I realized Uncle Jim was trying to tell us you had taken an aspirin. He was saying, ‘She took a Bayer ’But, we just didn’t understand him. We didn’t put the words ‘Bayer’ and 'bear’ together to figure out ‘aspirin.’ As soon as I saw that, I called the hospital and told them you had taken aspirin and was allergic to it.

They told me it was all right. They had pumped your stomach and you were regaining consciousness.”

He stopped and looked at me. “I still have that note. I kept it.”

I sat stunned, shamed, haunted, remorseful, hurt, and wordless after hearing Jerry’s story. Never would I deliberately have done something like this to Jim. Never would I have done this to me. Pain welled up inside of me, pulsating throughout my mind and my body. It would recur time and time again over many months, even years, to torment me and open a floodgate of tears.

It was not for me that I grieved. It was for what Jim must have felt while all the action around him was taking place. How confused and frightened he must have been, in his fragile, altered mind and I was the cause of it. That is what agonized me.

THE FIRST ANGIOGRAM A couple of days before Jim had his doctor appointment to find out the results of the CT scan, a package arrived via UPS with two pairs of his favorite brand of stretch jeans, size 36 x 34. He was so glad to get jeans that fit; he wouldn’t even take them off to go to bed.

Sometime during the night he did shed them. The next morning, he changed back into the old smaller size to work in.

“I’m saving these for when I go see the doctor again,” he explained, pointing to the new pair.

Sure enough, he put on his new ones the day he went to see the doctor and

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase smiled the entire time he waited. The doctor had conflicting information when he came into the room.

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“I’m going to have to refer you to a cardiologist for an arterial test,” he said, directing his words specifically at Jim. "It will determine the exact point of blockage in your arteries.” He checked the records in a folder held in his hand.

“The ultra sound imaging your Alamogordo doctor faxed to me shows blockage of the left carotid artery and your right artery is clear. The CT scan you had taken here a few days ago shows blockage of the right carotid artery. The left one is clear. That’s why we need to have an arterial test. A small catheter of dye is inserted and it will show exactly where the blockage is.”

I spoke. “How long will the test take?”

I asked.

The doctor glanced at me, ignored me, and then continued talking to Jim. “The test will take about fifteen minutes. If surgery is needed, it would require about a half-day in the hospital.

Surgery normally is performed the day after the arterial test.”

He turned to me and asked, “Do you have a cardiologist?”

“We have been here less than a month.

You’re the only doctor we have here in Lubbock. You might say, ‘We’ve got you, babe.’”

He gave a slight smile, but his nurse heartily laughed out loud.

“Betty, will make an appointment for you and tell you when to go for the test and how to get there.”

He looked at the nurse.

“See how soon Doctor Louse can get this done and let them know.”

The nurse nodded in acknowledgment while he spoke again to Jim. “This surgery probably will not help with the memory problem, but it will prevent a stroke. Right now, if something from your artery blockage broke loose, it could cause a stroke that would cause more damage, perhaps paralysis on some See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase part of the body, or possibly be fatal.” He paused before asking, “Do you want to go ahead with it?”

Jim answered, “Let’s get ‘er done.”

The appointment for the test was made for one week later. Instructions were for Jim to be at the hospital at 6 a.m. where the angiogram would be done. He was not to eat or drink anything after midnight, including medications. He should be prepared to stay because should the angiogram show that surgery is needed it would be done right then. If surgery were performed, he would be in the hospital for approximately two and one-half days. It sounded simple enough, but I was perplexed about the contradiction between the ultrasound imaging showing a blocked left artery and the recent CT scan indicating a blocked right artery.

“It just doesn’t make sense, to me,” I told Ellen.

“I think it sounds like a human error, but it doesn’t seem like the medical people think that could happen.”

I felt the stirrings of irritation, frustration, and genuine distrust in what was happening.

“Why don’t they seem to care anything about Jim’s mental problems?

It’s as if they simply don’t care.

The day dawned for Jim to have the angiogram. Ellen drove me and Jim to the hospital, arriving six minutes before the appointment. My fears of Jim being upset with having nothing to eat or drink seemed unfounded. He was relaxed as they sat in the crowded waiting room.

After almost one and one-half hours of waiting, we were escorted to a room.

Other nurses began appearing, preparing Jim for his test. An EKG was taken, his groin was shaved, an IV inserted. By 9 a.m. the preparatory work was finished and Jim was ready.

When nothing had been done in an hour’s time, I checked with the head nurse.

“There is another patient before him,” the nurse told me, checking a list. “It will

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The Lincoln County Christmas Gift Showcase be about a half-hour to an hour before the doctor is ready.”

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I was told the same thing when I checked an hour later. As I went back down the hall to Jim’s room, I overheard a nurse talking to another nurse.

“He will be lucky if he even gets in today. This doctor doesn’t take his patients as they show up on the record.

He picks and chooses just as he pleases.”

The remark upset me, but I quelled the anger that was growing inside my mind.

Back inside our room, I repeated to Ellen what she had overheard.

“That is ridiculous. That is just not right,” Ellen said angrily.

Jim began to fidget, so Ellen and I talked with him about other things that might draw his attention from having to wait. We talked about the weather. We asked questions about old cars. We joked about all the pine needles he had raked and how the plants were really growing since he had been doing such a good job of watering them. The conversation worked for a while, but then Jim grew more agitated. I knew from experience that if he decided to go into one of his stubborn spells, no amount of reasoning would help.

At noon, I went to the head nurse again and was told it would be another half hour. It had been sixteen hours since Jim had anything to eat or drink. For six of those hours, he had waited at the hospital, being prepared for a procedure that the doctor said would take about fifteen minutes. As I thought about it and watched Jim progressively become more restless, my anger grew. It was evident that he was feeling the same way.

Suddenly, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and said, “I want my clothes.

Where are they?”

Alarmed, I asked him to lie back down while she pushed the button to summons help.

When a voice answered asking what was needed, I insisted, “You better get someone down here right now. Jim is getting out of bed, putting on his clothes, and he’s wanting to go home.” Then I Continue page 74 See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Guide Me Now When I spill some food on my nice clean dress or maybe forget to tie my shoe, please be patient and perhaps reminisce about the many hours I spent with you, when I taught you how to eat with care, plus tying laces and your numbers, too, dressing yourself and combing your hair.

Those were precious hours spent with you. So when I forget what I was about to say, just give me a minute-or maybe two. It probably wasn't important anyway, and I would much rather listen just to you. If I tell the story one more time and you know the ending through an through, please remember your first nursery rhyme when I rehearsed it a hundred times with you. When my legs are tired and it's hard to stand or walk the steady pace that I would like to do, please take me carefully by my hand and guide me now as I so often did for you.

The task of a caregiver requires patience and perseverance and sometimes a reminder of times gone by. This letter is from the perspective of an adult who had come to lean on a child. However robust we may be now, there could come a day when we are in those orthopedic shoes.

Contributed by Gloria Marie

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Discover Tularosa, Carrizozo & White Oaks turned to Jim and said, “You need to have someone get that IV out of your arm, Jim. I’ve just called for help. A nurse will be here in just a minute."

I began to help him as three nurses came into the room.

“You’re too late,” I told them. “Get him unhooked from all this stuff. He's going home."

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One nurse tried to placate me while the other two nurses began to take out the IV needle, apply a small bandage, and remove equipment.

“Have you ever had a patient walk out of the hospital before?" I asked in exasperation. "If you haven't, then this is a first because I’m taking him home. I'm not blaming you or the staff here. You only take orders and you do it because you have to in order to keep your job. We were here at six this morning and have waited over six hours for a procedure the doctor said would take about fifteen minutes. The way he has been treated today is unacceptable. This is not the way professionals should treat a patient. We do not have to put up with it and we will not.”

I finished helping Jim get dressed, and then we walked out of the room, down the hall, and out of the hospital. The anger and fear I left me trembling.

"What are you going to do now?"

Ellen asked.

"I have no clue," I replied. "I don't know what to do next, but at this moment, I'm doing the only thing I know what to do. I will not let Jim be further subjected to what I consider inconsiderate, unprofessional abuse."

TIME FOR SURGERY... AT LAST Jim was wheeled in for his left carotid artery surgery on the morning of August 18, 2009, three months after arrival in Lubbock. We had expected it to be done in May, within a couple of weeks of arriving in Lubbock.

A young nurse led me to a waiting room full of other people. She told me the doctor would be in to report the results of Jim's operation as soon as the operation was complete which would take several See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Tularosa, Carrizozo & White Oaks hours. While I waited quietly in a chair in the waiting room, my thoughts wandered back to a time when Jim still knew me although his surroundings were becoming more blurred each day.

Four months earlier in early April, the day after Jim decided to stop smoking because Dr. Singh had issued a dire warning if he didn't stop, I noticed he was quite restless. He had brought in several armloads of wood for the wood stove. It was as if he needed something to do but he wasn’t quite sure exactly what it was.

Some of his actions and comments were quite disconcerting. follow me to that small room over there. It will be more private."

I went with her and sat in a much smaller room on the other side of the waiting room until the doctor arrived. Dr. Robertson came into the room carrying a jar with some plaque he had removed from the 80% blocked artery that led to Jim's brain. It looked like a piece of hardened lard about 1/4" in diameter and almost 2" in length that tapered down another 1/2", looking much like the cigarettes Jim had smoked for over 50 years that had contributed to his problem.

The doctor explained that a subclavian bypass also had been made on the portion of the artery leading to his left arm. The surgery had been physically successful the doctor said. Jim would be hospitalized for 3 or 4 days for the surgery to heal. It was evident during those following days that the surgery did not improve his brain functions.

AFTER THE SURGERY The next day after surgery Jim became aggressive and combative causing the hospital staff to use restraints to keep him from getting out of bed and to stop his combative actions toward the nurses.

Just as Julie was ready to leave her house for the hospital, the phone rang. It was a call from the Intensive Care Unit requesting her presence. They were having a difficult time with Jim and thought a familiar face would help calm him. They had tried to get him up to walk but he stood up only for a short time and refused to move for the nurses. I arrived at his bedside fifteen minutes later.

"You get out of here," Jim demanded

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Discover Tularosa, Carrizozo & White Oaks the moment I walked into his room.

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He was loosely restrained, hand and foot, to keep him from getting out of bed.

He stayed angry for the next 6 hours while I stayed with him. He did not recognize who I was during that entire time. He was extremely restless, pulling at the restraints, trying to twist and turn in bed, and kicking the end of the bed repeatedly. For lunch, I was able to coax him into eating some roast beef and mashed potatoes, plus a few bites of strawberry ice cream.

The next day found Jim more alert.

His words were more coherent even if I could make no sense of them. I noticed his beard had been trimmed and cut shorter, making it look much neater. The swelling in his throat was noticeably reduced. He was still restrained and quite restless. He kept pulling his hospital gown down, frequently disconnecting the chest monitors. He had not been walked at all since he had become so agitated with the nurse the evening before that she was afraid to be alone with him. During this second day after surgery, a baby was heard crying in the hallway. Jim called out, “Baby! Baby! Baby! How’s the little baby?” After a short while, he turned to me and said, "That baby had to be 90 years old!”

On day three after the surgery, one of the doctors I had not seen before made his rounds and had the nurse remove the catheter the medical personnel called a "foley". I thought the doctor assumed it would be one less tube for Jim to contend with, but it was the wrong decision. Jim could not comprehend peeing in a jar, nor could he comprehend sitting on the toilet.

Medically, perhaps the doc made the right decision, but he knew nothing about Jim's mental condition, so it was the wrong decision. That afternoon, Jim had been up, restrained, sitting in a chair for about an hour, He was able to cross his legs and you could almost see the joy in being able to do that.

Mitch, a male intern, gave Jim a present of a bag of three sugar cookies, explaining that Jim had told him the first day he was in ICU that he liked cookies.

Mitch said, “I like cookies, too.”

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Discover Tularosa, Carrizozo & White Oaks restraint stopped him, and then he bent his head forward to reach the cookie. He ate all three without stopping. When he seemed tired, the nurse told him she would get him ready to go back to bed.

He began to cry. Whether it was from emotions or whether it was that he didn’t want to go back to being restrained, I wasn't sure. Her logic told her that he didn’t want to go back to the bed restraints, but with his mental condition, she could only guess. When Mitch, who was built like a football linebacker, tried to get him up from the chair, Jim resisted.

Then, he began to have a bowel movement, which was really only small drops of liquid feces that spattered the floor. Mitch tried to get him to sit on the toilet but to no avail. Two nurses came in to assist. Everyone tried to talk to him.

No luck.

The excessive noise with too many commands was more than he could comprehend. He became thoroughly confused and agitated. When I realized this, I raised my voice, telling them that he could not follow their instructions because too many were talking.

The two nurses became very quiet.

Only Mitch and I talked with him. Even then, he did not have the mental capacity to cope. Finally, we got him back in bed.

"Do you encounter this kind of behavior at home?" Mitch asked.

"Occasionally," I answered, nodding affirmatively.

“I’m just sorry you had to see all this."

Mitch sympathized with a sigh. "I’m tired! He’s strong as an ox! How do you do it?”

With a slight smile, I told him I had four months' experience with it and was used to it by now. I had to use different methods. Mitch gave me a hug and gently suggested, “You go home and get some rest."

I complied without hesitation. It had been quite a tiring day.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: We wish to thank Julie Lloyd of Tularosa for the honor of allowing us to print her story on living with a spouse with Alzheimers.

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For those who have questions, or need support because of a loved one with .alzheimer's and/or dementia, please contact the Alzheimer's Association at their toll free number of 800-272-3900 or visit their web site at act.alz.org.

NOVEMBER is ALZHEIMER’S AWARENESS MONTH

“OMG, This is the very bested Strawberry I have ever had!”

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White Oaks Miners 1893

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About the Cover

J

ANET BRUNEAU is a thirdgeneration artist from Alamogordo, getting an early start learning her craft in her mother Faye’s shop, Whaley’s Ceramics, along with her grandmother, Naomi Beal, from La Luz. Working alongside those two devoted teachers she learned quickly and, with their encouragement, realized she a real talent for creating ceramics and other crafts as well.

Her art education began at Montclair State College where she received her Ceramic Teachers Certificate from the National Ceramics Manufacturers Association. For the next ten years she continued to help her mother and teach others the art of ceramics in her shop.

During this period her mother developed her dis-tinctive Earthspirits pottery, which has been officially patented, and which Janet now uses in a wide variety of her pottery pieces.

In 1990 she had the opportunity to

See our work on display at HorseFeathers, in Tularosa

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From the left; Janet Bruneau (self), Faye Newberry-Gallagher (Mother), Susan Rentschler, Naomi Beal ( GrandMother) .

purchase the shop, which had now become HEN HOUSE CERAMICS. While operating her new business she decided to further her education and started pottery classes at NMSU in Alamogordo.

Her teacher there was Don Ellis, a well-known and respected potter from Cloudcroft. She was a quick student and soon became a Teaching Tech at the college, where she stayed for nine years.

There was still more to learn and, to keep up with the latest-techniques and new ideas, she traveled around the country taking workshops whenever she could, learning Raku, horsehair, kilnbuilding, mixing glazes, stained glass, and custom designing art tiles. Self taught on a Polymer Clay technique as well as cutting/carving gourds, and 3-D painting.

These days she is still searching out and trying new techniques for all of her crafts and intends to continue teaching classes in her small studio at her new location in Tularosa.

She has been a founding member and featured artist at Horse Feathers in Tularosa since it re-open in 2016 and remains in the Tularosa community.

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Santa

Jokes ● What does Santa suffer from if he gets stuck in a chimney?

Claustrophobia! ● Why does Santa have three gardens?

So he can 'ho ho ho'! ● What kind of motorbike does Santa ride?

A Holly Davidson! ● What do you call a cat in the desert?

Sandy Claws! ● Who delivers presents to cats?

Santa Paws! ● What do you call a dog who works for Santa?

Santa Paws! ● What do you get if you cross Santa with a detective?

Santa Clues! ● What did the sea Say to Santa?

Nothing! It just waved! ● How you can tell that Santa is real?

Old Drug Store, Carrizozo

You can always sense his presents!

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Discover The Sacramento Mountains Cloudcroft * High Rolls * Sun Spot * Timberon

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W

hen the tracks of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe railroad reached Otero in 1879, it was the end of the line in New Mexico for the railroad at the time. A celebration was held honoring Miguel L. Otero, delegate to Congress from the Territory of New Mexico, for whom the town was named. As a terminus for the railroad, it didn't last long. The terminus was moved north to Raton in less than a year and the people and the town moved with it. Today, nothing is left of the town of Otero

While working as a banker, land broker, and livestock broke in Las Vegas, Otero began his career in politics. In a few years, he served as city clerk, probate clerk, county clerk, and recorder, and district court clerk. In 1892 he served as a delegate to the Republican National Convention and met Ohio Senator William McKinley. When McKinley was elected President in 1896, he appointed Otero governor of the Territory of New Mexico. Given Otero's youth (37 years), his meager statewide experience, and his lack of support from either political party, the appointment was somewhat of a surprise. The Otero name was well known in New Mexico, however, and initially he was supported by a wide range of constituencies.

As New Mexico moved towards statehood, Otero survived struggles against a variety of political factions in his own party. After McKinley's assassination, he survived a particularly brutal battle with Thomas B. Catron to earn reappointment by President Theodore Roosevelt.

At 46, He returned to banking and mining interests for a while, then served as state treasurer from 1909 to 1911. Otero attempted a comeback as governor in 1912, but failing to receive the Republican nomination, bolted for the Progressive Party.

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Old 3 Rivers Homestead

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M & M Department Store - Early Tularosa

Tularosa's version of Walmart in 1917

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Eggnog Story courtesy .whychristmas.com

E

ggnog is a traditional 'American' drink but it started life in the UK as a kind of 'posset' (hot milk mixed with wine or ale and spices).

There are a very few old mentions of eggs being mixed in as well.

During the middle ages, possets were used to help treat colds and the flu. (Now the word posset is normally used for a cold set milk pudding which was developed from the drink in the 16th century.)

'Posher' possets were also drunk by the upper classes in the UK, where it was made with Sherry or Brandy rather than beer or ale.

There are some different theories about how the 'nog' in eggnog came about. One theory says that 'nog' was the name given to strong beer in East Anglia and when eggs were added to it, it became eggnog. Another theory says the

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Discover the Sacramento Mountains nog comes from the word 'noggin' a middle English word for a small and carved wooden mug which was used to serve alcohol (and noggin is still a song term for your head!). And yet another say the nog comes from nugg or nugged ale, a Scottish term meaning ale which had been warmed by putting a poker from the fire in it!

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In the mid 1700's the drink traveled over to the USA, where sometimes rum was used in it rather than ale. And from that there's another naming theory, as rum was known as grog, so eggnog could have started out as egg-n-grog.

The first written use of eggnog is from 1775 when Jonathan Boucher, a clergyman and philologist (someone who studies old texts) from Maryland, wrote a comic poem about the various drink he had during the day!

"Fog-drams i' th' morn, or (better still) egg-nogg, At night hot-suppings, and at mid-day, grogg, My palate can regale..."

In March 1788 a newspaper in New Jersey reported that: "A young man with a cormerant appetite, voraciously devoured, last week, at Connecticut farms, thirty raw eggs, a glass of egg nog, and another of brandy sling."

The earliest connection of Christmas and eggnog is from the Virginia Chronicle in 1793: "On last Christmas Eve several gentlemen met at Northampton courthouse, and spent the evening in mirth and festivity, when EGG-NOG was the principal Liquor used by the company.

After they had indulged pretty freely in this beverage, a gentleman in company offered a bet that not one of the party could write four verses, extempore, which should be rhyme and sense..."

An early eggnog recipe comes from 1799 when the book 'Travels Through the States of North America and the Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada' (volume 2) described how an inn in Baltimore made eggnog: See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover the Sacramento Mountains "The American travelers, before they pursued their journey, took a hearty draught each, according to custom, of egg-nog, a mixture composed of new milk, eggs, rum, and sugar, beat up together;..."

Also in the 1790s, George Washington was the first US President to serve eggnog. His recipe contained rum, whisky and sherry!

The 'Tom and Jerry' is an eggnog cocktail made with rum and brandy. It was invented in 1920 by the British journalist Pierce Egan. It's thought that the Tom and Jerry cartoon might be named after this cocktail!

In the 1892, 'The Medical Brief' journal suggested that eggnog could be used as a treatment for the flu

How to Make Eggnog from Scratch Ingredients: ● 4 cups milk ● 5 whole cloves ● ½ teaspoon vanilla extract ● 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon ● 12 egg yolks ● 1 ½ cups sugar ● 2 ½ cups light rum (optional or to taste) ● 4 cups light cream ● 2 teaspoons vanilla extract ● ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg Directions: ● Heat the milk mixture. In a saucepan, combine milk, cloves, ½ teaspoon vanilla, and cinnamon. Set the heat to the lowest level for five minutes, then slowly bring the mixture to a boil.

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Discover Mayhill ● Combine the mixture with egg yolks and sugar. In a separate bowl, combine the egg yolks and sugar.

Whisk the two together until they reach a light and fluffy consistency.

Very slowly (to avoid scrambled eggs in your eggnog) add the hot milk mixture to your eggs and sugar, whisking it together as your pour. ● Cook the mixture over medium heat and let it cool. Pour the mixture back into the saucepan, and cook over medium heat for three minutes, stirring constantly. Allow the mixture to reach a thick, foamy consistency, but do not boil. Strain the mixture and remove the cloves and any lumps. You'll need to let it cool for about an hour.

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● Stir in the remaining ingredients.

Add the rum (optional or to taste), 2 teaspoons vanilla, and nutmeg. Stir the mixture together. ● Refrigerate overnight. Refrigerate your eggnog overnight and serve.

Try garnishing it with cinnamon sticks!

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Tradition of Christmas PUDDING

Christmas (or Plum) Pudding is the traditional end to the British Christmas dinner. But what we think of as Christmas Pudding, is not what it was originally like!

Christmas pudding originated as a 14th century porridge called 'frumenty' that was made of beef and mutton with raisins, currants, prunes, wines and spices. This would often be more like soup and was eaten as a fasting meal in preparation for the Christmas festivities.

By 1595, frumenty was slowly changing into a plum pudding, having been thickened with eggs, breadcrumbs, dried fruit and given more flavor with the addition of beer and spirits. It became the customary Christmas dessert around 1650, but in 1664 the Puritans banned it as a bad custom.

In 1714, King George I re-established it as part of the Christmas meal, having tasted and enjoyed Plum Pudding. By Victorian times, Christmas Puddings had changed into something similar to the ones that are eaten today.

Over the years, many superstitions

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have surrounded Christmas Puddings.

One superstition says that the pudding should be made with 13 ingredients to represent Jesus and His Disciples and that every member of the family should take turns to stir the pudding with a wooden spoon from east to west, in honor of the Wise Men. The Sunday before Advent Sunday (which is also the last Sunday in the Church Year), is sometimes know as 'Stir-up Sunday'. This is because opening words of the Collect for the day (the main prayer) in the Book of Common Prayer of 1549 (used in Anglican Churches) says: "Stir-up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Although Christmas Puddings are eaten at Christmas, some customs associated with the pudding are about Easter! The decorative sprig of holly on the top of the pudding is a reminder of Jesus' Crown of Thorns that he wore when he was killed. Brandy or another alcoholic drink is sometimes poured over the pudding and lit at the table to make a spectacular display. This is said to represent Jesus' love and power.

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Discover Mayhill In the Middle Ages, holly was also thought to bring good luck and to have healing powers. It was often planted near houses in the belief that it protected the inhabitants.

During Victorian times, puddings in big and rich houses were often cooked in fancy moulds (like jelly ones). These were often in the shapes of towers or castles. Normal people just had puddings in the shape of balls. If the pudding was a bit heavy, they were called cannonballs!

Putting a silver coin in the pudding is another age-old custom that is said to bring luck to the person that finds it. In the UK the coin traditionally used was a silver 'six pence'. The closest coin to that now is a five pence piece!

The tradition seems to date back to the Twelfth Night Cake which was eaten during the festivities on the 'Twelfth Night' of Christmas (the official end of the Christmas celebrations). Originally a dried pea or bean was baked in the cake and whoever got it, was 'king or queen' for the night. There are records of this practice going back to the court of Edward II (early 1300s). The bean was also sometimes a silver ring of small crown. The first coins used were a Silver Farthing or penny. After WW1 it became a threepenny bit and then a sixpence.

You might also get other items (sometimes called 'tokens' or 'favours') placed in the Christmas Pudding which also meant to have special meanings: Bachelor's Button: If a single man found it, they would be stay single for the following year.

Spinster's/Old Maid's Thimble: If a single woman found it, they would be stay single for the following year.

A Ring: If a single person found this, it meant you will get married in the following year! It can also mean you will be rich for the following year

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Recipe for Christmas Pudding Ingredients ● 7oz Currants, washed ● 7oz Sultanas, washed ● 7oz Raisins, stoned and chopped ● 3 1/2oz Mixed Peel, chopped ● 7oz Breadcrumbs ● 7oz Demerara Sugar ● 7oz Shredded Suet ● The finely grated rind and juice of one Lemon ● 3 1/2oz Almonds ● 7oz Plain Flour ● 1/4 teaspoon Salt ● 1 level teaspoon ground Nutmeg ● 1 level teaspoon ground Cinnamon ● 1 level teaspoon Mixed Spice ● 3 eggs ● 1/2 pint of old beer or stout Instructions ● Mix the currants, sultanas, raisins and peel together in a large basin.

Stir in the breadcrumbs, sugar, suet and lemon rind. Blanch the almonds; to do this by pouring boiling water over the nuts and then leave them to stand for a few minutes. The skins will now come off easily. Chop the almonds fairly finely and add to the fruit. ● Sift the flour, salt and spices together. Beat the eggs and add the lemon juice and stout/beer to them.

Add the flour and egg mixture to the

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â—? Next day, brush the basin with melted fat and fill with the pudding mixture. Cover the basin with greased greaseproof paper, pleated across the top, and tie firmly with string. Steam the large pudding for at least eight hours, or the smaller ones for six hours. â—? When the pudding is cold, re-cover it with fresh greaseproof paper, and store it in a cool, dry place. On Christmas Day (or when you want to eat it!) re-heat the pudding exactly the same way, steaming for at least two hours.

Story courtesy whychristmas.com

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T he Ballad of Billy the Kid

By Billy Joel

From a town Known as Wheeling West Virginia Note a boy with a .6 gun in his hand And his daring life of crime Made him a legend in his time East and West of the Rio Grande Well he started with a bank in Colorado In the pocket of his vest a colt he hid And his age and his size Took the teller by surprise Soon the word spread of Billy the Kid But he never traveled heavy Yes he always rode alone And he soon put many older guns to shame See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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And he never had a home But the cowboy and the rancher knew his name While he robbed his way from Utah to Oklahoma And the law just could not seem to track him down And it served the legend well For the folks they loved to tell About when Billy the Kid came to town While one cold day a posse captured Billy And the judge said string him up For what he did And the cowboys and their kin like the sea came pourin' in to watch the hangin' of Billy the Kid And he never traveled heavy Yes he always rode alone And he soon put many older guns to shame And he never had a sweetheart But he finally found a home Underneath the boothill grave that bears his name From a town known as Oyster Bay Long Island Rode a boy with a six pack in his hands And his daring life of crime made him a legend in his time East and West of the Rio Grande

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O

ne of the most common questions asked at the visitiors center at Lincoln State Park is “Did Billy the Kid really kill 21 men?”

The answer appears to be no.

Cahill has the distinction of being the first man killed by Billy the Kid. A blacksmith, bully, and blowhard (hence the nickname “Windy”), Cahill and Billy (known then as Henry Antrim) first crossed paths in Camp Grant, Arizona, shortly after Henry fled from Silver City, New Mexico.

The two disliked each other immediately, possibly because Cahill fitted Henry for shackles after he was arrested for stealing horses. Whatever the reason, Cahill never missed an opportunity to bully Henry — frequently knocking him over into the dirt and roughing him up. On the night of August See this and past issues of Alamodoso Magazine at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine

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Discover Ruidoso 17, 1877, the two were playing cards at Atkin’s Cantina.

They got into an argument; Cahill called Henry a “pimp” and Henry called him a “son of a bitch”. Cahill attacked Henry, throwing him to the ground and beating him. But Henry had a gun in the waistband of his trousers and was able to use a free hand to reach for it.

Henry shot Cahill in the stomach and scrambled out from under him before stealing one of the fastest horses and running back to New Mexico. Cahill died the next day.

The second was Jan. 10, 1880, when Joe Grant challenged him, saying, “He would kill a man today before you do,” and then tried to shoot Billy.

The third event was the escape from the Lincoln County Court House when on April 28, 1881, he shot James Bell and Robert Olinger during his escape from the second-story jail.

On March 1, 1878, Billy and several regulators captured Billy Morton, Frank Baker and William McClosky, members of the sheriff’s posse that killed John Tunstill on Feb. 18, 1878. These three were killed trying to escape after leaving John Chisum’s ranch.

The second group killing involved the assassination of Sheriff William Brady and Deputy George Hindman. On April 1, 1878, as the sheriff and his deputies (Billy Mathews, George Hindman, George Pepper and Jack Long) walked down a Lincoln, N.M., street toward the courthouse, Billy the Kid, Jim French, John Middleton, Fred Waite, Henry Brown and Frank McNab fired on the sheriff and his deputies from behind an adobe wall associated with the Tunstall store.

In the exchange of gun fire, Billy was wounded in the thigh as he tried to get Brady’s rifle, but he was able to escape.

It is not known if any of his bullets actually caused the deaths.

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