OLD RECORDS

A stack of old records in my office is a constant reminder of my dad and his music.    They are all perfectly preserved in their covers with colorful, bold pictures of the artists.  He loved big bands, classical, jazz, and Latin music. 

Dad was an accomplished trumpet player and even played with the Harry James Band a few times.  He was a member of the Reno Municipal Band and formed his own jazz group called the Dixie Cats.  On a typical evening at home,  Dad would flip through his collection, carefully stack several records on the hifi turntable, lift his trumpet out of its velvet case, and play soulfully along with the music.  Percy Faith’s Viva and Malaguena were particular favorites and this music stirs old memories, sights and smells.  Mom would be in the kitchen cooking dinner, sending wonderful aromas wafting my way and all seemed right with the world.

After the Christmas bustle, I treated myself to a record player so I could finally play these treasures of days long gone.  My sister was here for dinner and we both turned dreamy and nostalgic at the sounds of Harry James and Montovani.  

Miss you, Dad.

A Norco State of Mind

Photos by Peggy Jones

We had been hearing how horse friendly the town of Norco is (Horsetown USA) and wanted to check it out for ourselves, so we trailered there on a Friday afternoon.  First we rode in a residential area and were impressed with the wide bridle paths on every street.  The main street in town also has bridle paths on both sides and a special crosswalk button at rider’s height.  We decided to go shopping at Thrifty Horse which has a corral in the parking lot with hitching posts.  We tied up our horses and moseyed on in to shop. Our transportation remained surprisingly calm, switching their tails and standing contentedly, even with cars whizzing by on the street.

Next we rode to the Saddle Sore Saloon which also had a designated horse area.  It seemed like we had gone back a hundred years or so in time.  What a thrill to sit in a “saloon” with a Margarita, watching your horse look at you through the window!  

Flashback

I was driving down 9^th Avenue in Escondido the other day, when sirens screamed from behind and police cars screeched past me with lights flashing.  Up ahead, traffic slowed, narrowing into one lane, and I cursed myself for always being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  How did I always end up being stuck in bad traffic?  As I crept forward behind the line of cars, I was startled to see a plume of dark black smoke appear ahead on the left.  Oh no, that has to be a house fire, I thought with dread.  My body cringed instinctively as we drew near the catastrophe.  I tried to keep my eyes on the street while stealing glances out the side window as we approached the fire.  There it was, a nice two story house with a tile roof. Orange flames erupted furiously from the garage roof and I prayed they would contain the fire before the house burned too.  There was also a car in the driveway and I hoped they would move it before it exploded.  God bless, God bless, I whispered as I drove, concern flooding me for the owners of the house.  Hopefully nobody was hurt.  Did they know their house was on fire or were they away at work?  Suddenly a wave of sadness overwhelmed me and I began to sob.  I know all too well what it is like to lose your home and everything you own, and how life changing such a disaster can be.  God bless you, home owners, God bless.