Memorial Day–Memories

May 28, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

While I was growing up, my mom grew peonies by the side of the vegetable garden. Red, pink, white, huge spectacular blooms that always arrived around this time of year just in time for Memorial Day. We would pick many, put them in mason jars and take them to my father’s and her family’s cemetery plots. She has created a metal apparatus to hold them so the wind would not blow them over. We took water to fill the jars. We did this every Memorial Day always.

No one lives close any more. There is no one left to take flowers there.

My mother’s family members are buried in the Mound City, Missouri Cemetery.

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My mother’s parents’ gravestone. She was Nellie Narcissus Kaiser before she married rather late for back then–in her late twenties. I never knew my grandfather. He was so much older than she that even though he lived to be 80, he died long before I was born. My great-grandfather Kaiser was born in Switzerland and brought here as a child.

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The gravestone of my mother’s grandmother. I know she lived with my grandmother and grandfather a lot of the time from family photos, but I also know that she died in San Diego. No one ever told me how she got there or why.

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The gravestone of Aunt Julia, Mother’s sister. She never married, loved fancy antiques and china. I frequently use some of what she left me. She came to see me rather often and we visited antique stores when she visited. To say she was an independent woman is an understatement.

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My parents’ gravestone is on the right and Dad’s parents’ on the left–in the cemetery in Fillmore, Missouri. My grandfather, Pleasant Lightle, had walked from Illinois to Missouri as a child according to family stories. My parents met dancing. I always smile when I see the peonies planted at their graves.

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This is the gravestone of my great-grandfather, Dad’s mother’s father, who came to the US from Switzerland when he was 18. According to my dad, he did not want to be conscripted into the Swiss army because at that time Swiss soldiers were being hired out as mercenaries. His mother stood on the roof of their house waving until she could see him no longer. They never saw each other again. I grew up on the land he homesteaded in Andrew County, Missouri. Andrew County is filled with descendants of immigrants who came from Switzerland.

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The old carriage house near the house where Dad spent the first ten years or so of his 90 years. It is all that is left standing.

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The house where Dad lived the last 80 years of his life and where I grew up.

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When I was a child, the building in the foreground was used at various times as a farrowing house, once for Rhode Island Red chickens, and to store various farm supplies. When I went to visit Dad after Mom died and we were at the cemetery on Memorial Day, a man came up to Dad and asked if he was Doyle Lightle. They started chatting and I learned that when Dad first built it during Prohibition times, he held dances there. The sheriff would send deputies to watch and make sure no one was drinking. I had lived there and visited there for decades and had never heard this story.

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I took this photo standing on the levee next to the Missouri River looking toward the Rulo, Nebraska bridge. This is the land my mother’s family owned. On some Sundays as a treat, we would cross the bridge to a restaurant on the Nebraska side. It was famous for its fried catfish and carp.

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This is country with lots of water and trees. This picture was taken near Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge. Several times in my life, I have seen flooding from the bluffs on the Missouri side all the way to the bluffs on the Kansas and Nebraska side of the river. When I was a child, my uncle and aunt lived on the river farm until a flood reached half way up the second story of their house. They gave up and moved to town.

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When I was a child, there were trees like this in lots of places on Mom’s family’s farm. About this time of year we would hunt for morels and often pick a bushel basket full. Mom dipped them in egg and cornmeal, then fried them. We practically lived on them for week or two. I was shocked as an adult to go into a fancy market and discover that dried morels were 95 dollars a pound.

Argentinian Adventure–La Finca

May 28, 2018May 28, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

After sitting in the airport in Iguazu for four hours because the plane was delayed over and over, we finally arrived in Cordoba around midnight and rushed to La Finca, the family place out in the country, for dinner. Yes, dinner. Gaston’s family, including his 92 year old grandfather, uncles, cousins, aunts, everyone had actually stayed up and waited to meet us. I could hardly believe it.

I know Argentinians are the biggest consumers of beef in the world. We did not have beef; we had leg of lamb grilled over the special grill his father and uncles had built–a separate house just for grilling and eating. It was a warm night and we ate outside. It is a family ritual for everyone to congregate on weekends, but especially Sunday afternoons at La Finca to eat and socialize. Gaston and I went there both Saturday and Sunday.

It was the end of summer (Southern Hemisphere in March). The crop in the distance beyond the trees is potatoes. Gaston’s grandfather, who is 92 now, bought this land, planted the trees, created this peaceful get away in the country. Gaston’s uncle and aunt now live there with their college age children.

The building in the background houses the grill–chimney on the left–and the dining area I mentioned earlier. We ate inside once around the table that must sit at least twenty. The rest of the time they hauled the tables outside and we ate under the trees.

Gaston’s grandfather and I standing before the trees he planted decades ago.

The same trees upclose. Yes, those are very sharp protuberances sticking out all over the tree. You see these trees in cities too, but there they have cut off all the sharp pieces so people cannot get hurt on them. I could just imagine what would happen if a person pushed another person against one of these.

The drive from the main road to La Finca. Sunday afternoon Gaston’s mom and I strolled up and down this drive while Gaston with his dad and uncle and a cousin installed a drip line to water the bushes on each side. Like here, they are suffering a drought. They did not want years of work to die.

The original house where Gaston’s uncle and his family live is on the left. I loved it here and felt very privileged to spend a weekend with the family doing whatever they do on weekends. On Saturday, the men all went to help someone move while I sat with Gaston’s aunt, her friend, some cousins. We chit chatted, drank mate, took naps, ate pear tart and other desserts, and whiled away an afternoon.

Occasionally the peace was disturbed by the raucous chatter of parakeets. The huge nest in this tree is shared by many parakeets. They do not build individual nests. When they get going, they are really loud.

Just as in New Mexico in the US, water comes through acequias. The drive goes over this little bridge in the foreground.

Near this acequia the family grows lemon trees, vegetables, flowers, and other delectables for family use.

It was so lovely and peaceful here, I did not want to leave.

Gaston’s aunt and mother love succulents and flowers. This is only a tiny portion of the plant collection growing everywhere around Gaston’s aunt and uncle’s house. His aunt is very proud of her plant collection. Many of her plants were familiar. Some even have the same names in English and Spanish probably due to their Latin origins.

Plains Indian Artifacts–Beaded Moccasins

May 26, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Last evening I attended a new exhibit at Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum. The exhibit featured moccasins, paintings, and various artifacts made by different Great Plains tribes, including a headdress worn by Quanah Parker. The exhibit also contains many old photographs. A number of Comanches were present including a lady over 100 years old.

After I left the exhibit, I kept thinking about it and wondered how current Comanches might feel when they come to something like this which in many ways honors them but also displays a past that will never return. While contemplating, I wrote this poem about what I saw.

Beaded moccasins,

moons of work.

Ceremonial beauty,

now encased in glass, labelled, dated by someone’s guess,

for strangers who believe in a strange god,

desecrate the land,

waste invaluable water,

kill bears for sport.

Weep

Wait

Palo Duro Canyon, Comanche Country, where they made their last stand and were forced to go to a reservation in Oklahoma after federal troops killed over a thousand of their horses.

Argentinian Adventure–Iguazu Falls, The Argentinian Side

May 19, 2018May 19, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

The largest park is a national park on the Argentinian side. There are upper and lower hiking trails with an ecologically friendly train that takes you to where the trails begin. For those who want to hike more, you can forget the train and hike through the forest/jungle to where the main trails begin. We took the train.

On the upper trail you can cross a portion of the river, cross just above the top of several of the individual falls, and get wet.

The trails on the Argentinian side are impressive feats of engineering. I kept wondering how they built them in some of the very daunting places, e.g. over tops of large falls, over the rushing river.

I am standing in the middle of the “bridge” with the same distance over the river in both directions.

You cannot stay in this location very long without getting quite wet. The falls are so huge and the spray so extensive, a fine mist floats everywhere. Talking normally means no one can hear you because of the roar.

The land to the left is an island. Because it constantly receives a fine mist, the plants look lush, glistening with water droplets. Gaston said it reminded him of the movie Avatar.

After all this hiking we decided to go to the hotel near the falls for a drink. A man and a woman were teaching people how to tango. Before I knew it, the guy had me dancing.

The next day we took the lower trail. One of the first things we saw was a group of monkeys. Although there are signs along the road to please watch out for jaguars because too many get killed at night on the road, we did not see any. It occurred to me several times one could have been 50 feet from me near a trail and I would never have guessed–the jungle is too dense.

As you can see to the right in this photo, in many places the trail is right at the edge of the falls and sometimes the trail goes over the top so you are walking over where the falls drop to the gorge below.

The immensity of the falls, the roar and power of the water, the lush jungle–a magical place which filled us with wonder.

Note: There are several ways to spell the name of the falls, depending on the language. I have used two of the ways. The river which makes the falls is the Parana with an accent over the last a.

My Mother–Barbie Doll

May 13, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty petite, blue-eyed and blond, my mother, one fearless, controlling woman. Long after Mother’s death, Dad said, “Barbara was afraid of absolutely no one and nothing.” They married late: 34 and 38. He adored her unconditionally. She filled my life with horses, music, love, cornfields, hay rides, books, ambition. Whatever she felt she had missed, I was going to possess: piano lessons, a college education. Her father, who died long before I was born, loved fancy, fast horses. So did she. During my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my hysterical night coughing with stories of run aways horses pulling her in a wagon. With less than one hundred pounds and lots of determination, she stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri River Bottom, strong, willful, free.

Note: this poem is in my book “On the Rim of Wonder” and was also recently published in “Inside and Out”, a collection of writings by women. It is available on Amazon and published by the Story Circle Network.

Addendum: My mother loved horses and flowers. When I look at the flowers around my house I think of my mother. And, yes, I have horses. The following photos are dedicated to my mother’s memory.

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My mother’s mother and father.

Iris Tough

May 10, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

In spite of less than 3/4 inch rain since last fall and minimal watering from the 400 foot deep well, iris bloom everywhere–even in unamended caliche, a glorious reminder of nature’s resilience.

When I thinned these a couple of years ago, I had so many that I stuck them everywhere, even here at the end of the driveway. I have watered them only once.

A friend gave me just one. I planted it by the barn among others of the color in the first photo. In spite of the drought they multiplied a lot this past year. Probably all the rain from last summer helped before it quit raining.

I planted these a couple of years ago in front of the barn. I watered them a few times this spring but none during the winter. This particular iris reblooms in the fall and multiplies so fast it is difficult to keep up with separating it.

Possibly because of their location by the retaining wall near the barn facing west, these are always the first to bloom. I did water them a couple of times this spring. Insects have found them.

Adventures in Argentina–Flora and Fauna Near Iguazu Falls

April 25, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / 4 Comments

Across the highway from the helicopter business, we visited a surprisedly large bird sanctuary, recommended by our taxi driver/guide. We did not expect anything as lovely as what we found. Most of the birds and flowers there are native to the area. However, a few rarer species from other parts of the world exist there as well.

Surprised, I recalled seeing these exact same flowers on my two trips to Costa Rica. In fact, I found another photo on an older blog post from one of my Costa Rica trips.

Endangered, many countries where these wonderful parrots live do everything they can to save them. They pair for life–we found the evidence amusing and enchanting.

Whenever we saw an uneven number together, we looked elsewhere and found the mate drinking or feeding.

Of course, there has to be toucans. Some even clowned for the tourists. People clustered all around to watch their antics.

Where you have flowers you have butterflies.

Butterflies love Gaston.

They landed on him, flew to his fingers, let him pick them up without flying away. I tried, but no luck.

A fabulous morning on the Brazilian side, starting with the helicopter ride and ending here with flowers, birds, and butterflies.

Adventure in Argentina–Iguazu Falls from a Helicopter

April 18, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

It became very clear to Gaston and me that we would not really get a true perspective of the falls unless we took the helicopter ride our taxi driver/tour guide recommend. To do this we once again had to cross to Brazil. The company that operates the helicopter rides is Argentinian. However, Argentina decided no helicopters on their side because they disturb animals, the environment. The ride is short and relatively expensive. Gaston protested it cost too much. I am conservative about money but thought about it and decided, “I may never be here again. Gaston’s last trip here occurred when he was six, nearly two decades ago. We are going to do this.” This was Gaston’s first helicopter ride.

Even from a helicopter it is nearly impossible to see all the falls at once.

The left side is Brazil, the right Argentina. The falls in Argentina continue to the right beyond this photo. The immensity of this natural wonder never ceases to amaze.

Adventure in Argentina–Iguazu Falls, Day One

April 15, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

We landed at the jungle airport near the down of Iguazu, found a taxi (the taxi to our hotel was only 5 dollars more than the bus), and continued our adventure. Gaston and I felt lucky; the lady taxi driver gave us excellent service and advice for our three day sojourn at Iguazu. She suggested we head to the Brazilian side of the falls first because the trails are fewer and it was later in the day. All you have to do is provide your passport, roll down your window so they can look at your face, and proceed. At the Brazilian park headquarters everyone has to wait for a bus, which can drop visitors off at various points along hiking trails. The above was one of my first views of the falls.

It became clear almost immediately that it would be impossible to see all the falls from any single place; they are immense to the point of unbelievable, overwhelming. You hear the roar long before you see the cause. At this vantage point, I am standing on Brazilian soil looking across to the Argentinian side. The center of river which causes the falls provides the boundary between Brazil and Argentina.

To reach this vantage point, the trail winds down a rather steep incline. Everything is wet from the mist which is so extensive, it is impossible to be anywhere near and not become somewhat wet. A trail proceeds from here below the falls out over a part of the river where it is like being in your bathroom shower. Gaston took many photos here. The roar of the falls is so loud it is impossible to carry on a conversation.

Coatimundis are everywhere. On the Brazil side in particular huge signs are posted with a person displaying bleeding, serious injuries inflicted by these seemingly harmless creatures. The instructions tell visitors not to feed them, try to pet them, anything. The result may not be good if you do.

The roar, the immensity, overtakes ones emotions. The power of water a millionfold, displayed in all its grandeur overwhelms.

In Brazil looking across to Argentina.

Adventures in Argentina-Buenos Aires Neighborhoods

April 3, 2018April 3, 2018 / Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Buenos Aires has many neighborhoods, areas with sometimes distinct character. Our hotel in San Telmo made it easy to see a lot of the city by walking. Other areas we strolled through include Centro and Recoleta. In the three days we stayed there, we walked 35 miles according to my Fitbit.

This Starbucks was exactly one block from our hotel. We went there the first morning for the typical Argentinian breakfast: coffee and a biscuit (not like the ones here) or a small croissant with some sweet glaze on top. Starbucks can be found throughout the city.

Everywhere you see beautiful parks and people use them for strolling, dog walking, jogging, relaxing, picnicking, hanging out–you name it. Plus the trees–on all major streets, on side streets, everywhere. Of course, it was the end of summer. Perhaps parks receive less use in winter.

Even on main thorough fares, like this one which is claimed to be the longest street in the world, trees reside on the sides, in the middle, everywhere.

This is a mall, seriously. We ate a delicious lunch here one day and came back the next day for a drink. I had coffee; Gaston had a green drink with mint and ginger which was refreshing and delicious. The ceiling is well–take a look!

Hard to believe this is a mall.

One day we took the train to its end at the train station. The recently restored train station contains the fanciest Starbucks ever with incredible murals.

The ceiling is beautiful too.

From this station it is possible to take a train to various parts of the city but also trains go from here way out into the suburbs. Reminded me of the subway and train system in New York City and its suburbs where I once lived.

San Martin, the hero who freed southern South America from Spain, crossed the Andes with mules, not horses–Hugo, Gaston’s dad, gave me lots of history lessons. However, when I saw this statue, I did not know all the history yet. This park, filled with huge trees, borders several streets where, like much of Buenos Aires, modern and antique coexist.

Suddenly we notice men on horseback riding out of a military area next to San Martin Park. We rushed across the park to watch, hoping they would ride around the park. They did not; they headed down a street.

We never discovered the purpose of this little parade of military personnel on horseback.

The buildings around the park provide a perfect example of the traditional, the centuries old beside the modern. The traditional building in the middle houses very exclusive apartments.

The opposite side of the park from the statue of San Martin overlooks the English Tower, given to Argentina by the English before the little war over the Falkland Islands which both countries claimed. The English won.

A friend told me to take tea at the Alvear Palace Hotel so we headed to Recoleta area. We strolled around, did not take tea, but we did have lunch in one of the small restaurants inside the hotel area.

Next to this restaurant resides a tea store, Tealosophy, where they sell nothing but tea. I quit counting at fifty different blends. In Argentina International Women’s Day was highly celebrated. This tea shop created a special blend just for that event, Mujeres Power. I bought some; it smells heavenly but have not tried it yet.

We walked down to another park near the famous cemetery where all the national heroes and important people have been buried for centuries. Nearby we saw the largest tree I have ever seen.

The branches, which were impossible to photo in one picture, extend far and are so heavy they are supported by cement or metal columns.

The tree is to the left in this photo. The walk leads to a monastery and the cemetery.

The cemetery was full of people.

The artwork here speaks for itself.

As we walked back we circled this famous piece–a tulip that opens and closes.

Then farther down the street which is close to the port–we could hear ship sounds, etc.–we saw this living wall.

Yes, this wall is made of living plants. I could not help but stop and stare.

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The building which holds their equivalent of the US Congress. I continue to wonder how I managed to walk past the Pink House–like US White House–several times and never take a photo. Perhaps I was distracted by the protesters. Argentina is used to protests which appear to be legally protected. In the one we saw one evening, the protestors carried banners of Che Guevara.