Francis True Shasteen, a friend indeed...

I love Gardening, some years ago I became a master gardener.  I have fond memories of Francis Shasteen a former school teacher, and closest friend.  We spent hours in her large garden at La Junta, weeding and tending to her thousands of pristine perennials.  These  Winter days cause me to think of her more often, anticipating Spring.  Over the course of ten years we talked about everything... everything.

The seasons and life changes, the plants and bugs, the old days and new days, change like the weather and change in life cycles, each one doing its own thing in the garden and our own thing in life... How to start a rose inside a mostly buried gallon Jar top down over the rose stem,,, you have to rub mud on the glass in the early spring to keep it from getting sun burn.

I miss Francis, mostly her laugh, followed by a flower garden full of response in the spring.  She would tell me of the days when her and Polly her sister went to California, in a model T the pass through the mountains was so rough, with the steep hills came the loss of clutch and brake replacement at the bottom.

It is hard to realize that the plan was to ground me, yet another pupal, a soul to save with knowledge and the three R's.  I would tell her who I had met recently in our little community and she would tell me a story or two about them and there Grand dads.  One time we went to the cemetery to attend to her  family,   She commented that  she new far more people there than in town, we booth just laughed.