Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – #Ranching My Life In Mud Boots 2016: Wildfire by Laura M. Bailey


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the final post from the archives of Laura M. Bailey who blogs on a number of subjects including history, family, horses, Southern lifestyle and cookery. With the tinder dry grass that these long hot summers are producing, there is always a risk of a bush or wildfire. Laura shares the terrifying moment she saw a wall of fire heading for their homestead and livestock.

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My Life In Mud Boots 2016: Wildfire by Laura M. Bailey

Weds Feb 10th, 2016

I had just returned home from running errands, put up groceries and sat down for a second before heading out to drain and scrub the horse troughs when a sharp knocking at the front door sent the dogs on high alert and myself leaping from the chair and stumbling over them in a foot race to the door. We don’t get many visitors out here, especially during the day. I’m usually very cautious about who I’d open the door for as a woman alone out in a rural area.

I peered through the peephole and saw the vague image of a man standing there. I nearly walked away when he turned slightly and I caught a glimpse of a uniform. On instinct or sheer gut feeling, I opened the door. It was a Fed-ex driver but the look on his face suspended my every thought. “There’s a wild fire behind you heading this way fast!”

I can’t even recall what I might’ve said to him as my body shot into mindless motion and in a split second I was out the back then suddenly frozen in utter disbelief! A wall of flame and thick black smoke stretched as far as I could see through the pasture adjacent to mine.

The wind whipped the flames higher, coaxing them on at a remarkable speed…a vision of which looked certain to take my barn, then home. My mind darted from how to save my dogs, losing all the pictures of our kids growing up and the most immediate threat… the horses. I found them tightly huddled in the front pasture but the acrid smell of smoke and approaching flames had them peaked, every muscle taut and at the ready for flight.

My fingers trembled so badly that I could barely dial 911 to get help on the way as I ran for the barn, throwing open the gates and doors,…next I’m calling Clay.

I was praying madly as I tried to calm my demeanor. Horses are sensitive creatures and I needed to calmly assure them if I were to lead them into the barn and stall them, as I do, I’m working on plan b.

As I watched the fire overtake my fence and enter my pasture, heading toward my barn, I haltered the mares to make ready to lead them to the cattle farm across the street in hopes their babies would follow.

Clay arrived just after the fire crews. He threw open the pasture gate and flagged them inside, ran for a long hose, hooked it up in the barn and ran it out the back in case we’d have to try saving the barn. A man ran up to help, he was the retired Newcastle fire chief. ( In fact, all the trucks helping our area were from the next town.)

The firemen cut down the barbed wire fences so trucks could run from one pasture and farm to the next, putting one area of fire out while the wind restarted the area they just left. The neighbors got Kevin (our mini donkey) and the mules into a barn as the fire had reached the small chain link fenced yard of their home while he fought it with a garden hose and shovel.

Through the night, areas reignited from the Oklahoma winds but when all was said and done and the smoke cleared, we were all found nerve wrecked, a little messy, needing slight repairs but blessedly…gratefully safe.

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© Laura M. Bailey 2016

That was certainly a close call and thank goodness everyone was safe…

About Laura M. Bailey

This blog is my attempt to write down the bones of a crazy, random, uncharted life and all the shoes I’ve worn along the way… From beach baby to city girl, wife. Mother, grandmother. Daughter, sister, coolest Aunt ever, construction worker, grease monkey, writer, poet, Publicity director, public speaker, tattoo studio owner and artist, crafter, cook, music promoter, race horse owner, breeder, Rancher and above all a flawed human profoundly in love with God. Within these stories I hope you’ll find the sorrows , joys, inspiration in ordinary places, sheer hilarity of life and all the common threads that connect us all.

Connect to Laura

Blog: https://alltheshoesiwear.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bailey_clan1

My thanks to Laura for allowing me to share posts from her archives and I recommend that you head over to explore for yourselves.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – Major Accident – The #Horse Came Back Alone… by Laura M. Bailey


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the third post from the archives of Laura M. Bailey who blogs on a number of subjects including history, family, horses, Southern lifestyle and cookery. This story is a testament to Laura’s fortitude, warrior spirit and her faith… a long road back from this accident.

Major Accident – The #Horse Came Back Alone… by Laura M. Bailey

He was one tall drink of water and I could not keep my eyes off him as he sauntered into the stable. My husband and I both were like a couple of cartoon charters. You could practically see heart bubbles popping over our heads and within a couple weeks, he was ours!

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A tall black & white paint with a striped coon tail. First to Fly, was his name but we called him Jet…well, my husband called him Jet, I called him Big Sexy. As I’ve stated in my ” Mud Boots” posts, I know nothing about horses and have never been on one but I am as my family calls me, Cinderella. I both love and attract all kinds of animals and I loved this guy. We really didn’t know anything about him except his new owner needed rent and sold him to us cheap.

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A few days later, Clay saddled him in the paddock and set me on his back. We’d both seen small children on him so Clay was confident that I’d be fine. Weirdly, I had the worst feeling about it. It was the sickening feeling of foreboding. I couldn’t explain it and felt silly so I kept my mouth shut and choked back my anxiety. (More than anything, I didn’t want Clay to think I was a sissy!)

Sure enough, Jett started toward the loafing shed. I gently pulled back on the reins but, nothing! He just kept going! He was so tall that the tin roof caught me across the ribs, scraping me right off his backside and I hi the ground flat on my back! Sweet mercy, that hurt but I darn sure wasn’t going to show it so I just laughed it off. (Found out much later that I fractured the S1)

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Clay took this just shortly before…

The next day, Clay put me on him again, first in a round pen then this little arena area. All went well except that nagging feeling just wouldn’t go away. The only way I can describe it was a fight or flight sensation and everything in me screaming to…STOP! DON’T! RUN! But, there was no way on earth I’d tell Clay what I was feeling. I didnt want to sound foolish…I should have trusted him to understand. They say pride goeth before the fall.

With me assuring him that we were fine, and we were, Clay left to let our mares out in another 80 acre pasture to graze. Jet and I wandered around the stable, strolling down the lane between the pipe and cable paddocks. The next thing Clay knew … the horse came back alone!

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Literally the very next picture on his phone! I made him take it. Even like this, I could see the humor in it! Lol

One moment we were walking along then suddenly, Jets hoof dropped into a deep hole in the ground! He started scampering backward, head back and eye’s wide! He was spooked! I tried to pull back hard on the reins to stop his flight but he jolted forward flying into a sprint. I pulled so hard his head was back almost to my chest, his eye’s wide with terror and barreling down the lane towards the end. He’d have to cut left or right at the crossroad so I braced myself and called out, “Oh Father!”

I regained consciousness on my final bounce…in an overgrown, empty paddock at the end of the lane. I knew immediately my back was hurt badly. The pain was exquisite, so exquisite that I didnt feel that both of my arms were broken too.

We had been in a long draught, the sun beating down and 110°. I knew I needed help but Clay had no idea where I was, couldn’t see my form beneath the tall grass, my location or even that I was in trouble so I made a decision.

I decided to try to stand. I rolled slightly to one side, attempting to push up into a sitting position but couldn’t seem to push up. Glancing over, I realized my arm was broken though I didn’t feel it at all. I rolled to the other but caught sight of the arm and how it formed a Z.

Plan C…I clawed my way up with my elbows and began walking toward our truck at the front of the stables. It’s the funniest thing how right before you pass out, everything begins to sparkle. I didn’t want to fall so I squat to the ground and laid back. Afterwards, I took on plan C again the continued toward the parking lot.

Mid way, Clay finally saw me. He’d seen the horse running loose and caught him. From across the stable, he yells “What happened?” I could barely breathe much less yell so I just shook my head and kept walking. He’s a horseman, can ride anything into the dirt and like all horsemen, “ya fall off a horse, ya get back on!” I still die laughing at the thought that he was literally bringing me back the horse!

As he neared, he asked “are you ok?” I whispered “hospital.” He looked shocked! “You kidding me?” he said. I held up my arms that now formed the letter Z. “What do ya think?” Just then you would’ve thought I’d said my water broke! He screamed for me to (get this) “get to the truck!” So I muttled along. He went to put the horses up.

Once I arrived at the truck, I also became aware that my hands didn’t work so I had no way to open the darn door and was not looking forward to climbing up into it either. I plodded to the back and leaned against the tailgate like a plank.

Just then a lady pulled up right in front of me, hoped out of her SUV with a big smile and chipper greeting. “Can you help me open my door? I had an accident.” The emotions scrolled across her face in rapid dawning, first confusion then her eyes honed in onto my arms, then horror. She burst into tears and helped me into the truck just as Clay arrived.

Bless his heart and damn my pride. He put on the emergency blinkers and he wanted to speed to the ER but they way to the hospital from where we were was non-stop 4way stops at every block! I sat silently, too afraid to put what I knew into words, as if saying them put loud would make it real.

It wasn’t until he had to apply the brakes and I screamed that I was forced to tell him about my back. The look on his face was a mixture of heartbreak and terror.

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The shortest end to this tale is this…Jet threw me, back first into a steel pole at between 35-40 mph, 21 days in ICU. I had a shattered L1 vertebrae, fractured S1, both arms at the wrists, ( 1 had to be sawn off and reattached later) tons of metal to put me back together, 3 year full recovery. My husband, my mom, and God held me up through it all. It’s a miracle that I can walk and live a perfectly normal life. I have some bad days of course but on those days I remember how very blessed I am.w

Note: It was also through This that we discovered who and what Jet was. He was an own son of Texas Hero and the next years top racing prospect! Race horses dont whoa when you pull the reins. They’re trained to fight against the bit. In effect, my attempt to stop him was actually telling him to GO! And he did! This is how I began “My life In Mud Boots”, became a Racehorse owner, breeder and rancher! Lol

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© Laura M. Bailey 2018

What a story… and inspiring….

About Laura M. Bailey

This blog is my attempt to write down the bones of a crazy, random, uncharted life and all the shoes I’ve worn along the way… From beach baby to city girl, wife. Mother, grandmother. Daughter, sister, coolest Aunt ever, construction worker, grease monkey, writer, poet, Publicity director, public speaker, tattoo studio owner and artist, crafter, cook, music promoter, race horse owner, breeder, Rancher and above all a flawed human profoundly in love with God. Within these stories I hope you’ll find the sorrows , joys, inspiration in ordinary places, sheer hilarity of life and all the common threads that connect us all.

Connect to Laura

Blog: https://alltheshoesiwear.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bailey_clan1

My thanks to Laura for allowing me to share posts from her archives and I recommend that you head over to explore for yourselves.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck Barefoot In The kitchen: Breakfast For Dinner? 2018 by Laura M. Bailey


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the second post from the archives of Laura M. Bailey who blogs on a number of subjects including history, family, horses, Southern lifestyle and cookery. I selected this post as we love frittata or quiche for breakfast… great recipe thank I know you will enjoy.

Barefoot In The kitchen: Breakfast For Dinner? 2018 by Laura M. Bailey

Am I weird? I love breakfast for dinner, whether it’s omelets, pancakes or basic fry up, it’s all good to me but today I’m doing it in more of a dinner style.

Real men do eat quiche! In fact, Clay loves my quiche and what’s not to love? It’s savory sausage, golden sauteed mushrooms, fresh spinach, rich cheese and delicate egg all tucked inside a flaky crust.

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Sausage, Mushroom & Spinach Quiche

Ingredients

  • ½ pound sausage
  • ½ cup onion, chopped
  • ½ cup mushroom, chopped
  • 4 ounces fresh spinach, chopped
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • ½ teaspoon black pepper
  • 6 eggs
  • 1 cup cream
  • 1 premade pie crust, thawed
  • 2 oz.. gruyere cheese shredded

Preparation

  1. Preheat oven to 350˚F/180˚C.
  2. Cook sausage over medium-high until lightly browned, about 5-7 minutes, being sure to break up the meat into a fine mince.
  3. Remove cooked sausage from pan and wipe away excess fat with a paper towel.
  4. Add onion and sauté until softened and translucent, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add mushrooms, salt, and pepper and continue to cook for an additional 2-3 minutes. Add chopped spinach and cook until barely wilted and no extra liquid has accumulated in the bottom of the pan.
  5. Once cooked, remove the spinach and mushroom mixture from the pan and combine it with the sausage. Lightly whisk eggs and cream until just combined.
  6. Place pie crust into pie plate or tart pan. Prick the entire bottom with a fork for crispiness and to keep it from bubbling up.
  7. Add sausage and spinach mixture to the bottom of the prepared pie crust, making sure to spread it evenly. Top with cheese. Pour in beaten eggs to fill the rest of the pie crust.
  8. Bake at 350˚F/180˚C for 25 minutes or until the eggs are set and the top is lightly browned.
  9. Allow to cool for 10 minutes before slicing. Serve with a simple salad.

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In keeping with my breakfast for dinner theme, dessert with a breakfast flare!

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Donut Strawberry Shortcake

  1. Hull and slice a container of fresh strawberries. Sprinkle 1/4 c. of sugar over the top, stir a refrigerate for at least 30 min.
  2. Slice fresh, glazed donuts in half with a bread knife. Heat a skillet, brush lightly with butter and place donuts cut side down, toasting until golden brown.
  3. Arrange a donut slice in a bowl, top with strawberries then whipped cream and final donut slice.

Enjoy! 

©Laura M. Bailey 2018

Feast fit for a king.. .and queen..

About Laura M. Bailey

This blog is my attempt to write down the bones of a crazy, random, uncharted life and all the shoes I’ve worn along the way… From beach baby to city girl, wife. Mother, grandmother. Daughter, sister, coolest Aunt ever, construction worker, grease monkey, writer, poet, Publicity director, public speaker, tattoo studio owner and artist, crafter, cook, music promoter, race horse owner, breeder, Rancher and above all a flawed human profoundly in love with God. Within these stories I hope you’ll find the sorrows , joys, inspiration in ordinary places, sheer hilarity of life and all the common threads that connect us all.

Connect to Laura

Blog: https://alltheshoesiwear.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bailey_clan1

My thanks to Laura for allowing me to share posts from her archives and I recommend that you head over to explore for yourselves.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #Potluck -#FamilyHistory #Texas – 1919: Lost In The Storm (2018) by Laura M. Bailey


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the first post from the archives of Laura M. Bailey who blogs on a number of subjects including history, family, horses, Southern lifestyle and cookery. This post caught my eye as I have been sharing our stories of South Padre Island in Texas in my series set in 1986.

1919: Lost In The Storm (2018) by Laura M. Bailey

On Sat. Sept. 13, 1919, Sarah Elizabeth White, accompanied her daughter, Bessie, son in law, Hugh and her two young grandchildren, Mary 3 and Lois 2, for a vacation on North Beach, Padre Island, Corpus Christi. In less than 48 hrs, all would be lost.

Earlier in the week, reports from New Orleans National Weather Service, of a severe storm off the Florida coast had drawn little attention around Corpus Christi. The newly burgeoning resort town was known to be the safest place on the coast, shielded from storm threats by the barrier islands, Mustang and St. Joe’s. The bluffs overlooking Nueces Bay rose 40 feet above the beach, offering an added buffer in the event of a flood.

Even as late as Saturday, warnings were ignored that the hurricane could reach Texas. The consensus was that it would curve up to hit Louisiana. Meteorologists of the time relied on reports from ships at sea to pinpoint the location of storms, but because most vessels had left the area or were already caught up in the hurricane, the weather service was left in the dark.

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On Saturday, though uncommonly windy, it was a hot and sunny day, the beaches packed and with winds calming by nightfall, the storm warning flags were lowered. During the night, the winds returned and heavy rain began to pour. By morning the tides began to rise. An hour and a half later, at 9:30 am, meteorologists finally issued a statement urging people in low lying areas to leave for high ground.

Many of those who heard the warnings that morning and despite the driving rain, still held little fear. Sometime after noon, the eye of the storm made landfall about 25 miles south of Corpus Christi, which put the city and the resort communities to the north directly in the path of the hurricane’s deadly right-front quadrant. Winds along this section of the storm topped 125 mph!

Having lived through hurricanes in Corpus, in the midst of the storm you pray for the eye of it. The eye of a hurricane is the eeriest place I’ve ever been. One moment you’re in straight line torrential rain driven by winds so fierce that it rips towering palm trees from the ground by their roots, the next…..dead calm. Not a blade of grass stirs, absolute still as if standing in a vacuum and absolute silence. The reprieve will not last. You are but waiting for the other side of the storm to slam into you.

The storm surged, rapidly raising the tide with crashing waves up to 16ft high, acting like powerful battering rams, destroying everything in their paths. The storm surge destroyed the causeway connecting Portland with Corpus Christi, cutting off any escape from the North Beach area. To make matters worse, the surge ruptured oil storage tankers anchored in Aransas Bay, sending a slick of heavy crude across Corpus Christi Bay.

Once the surge bridged the barrier islands, nothing could stop it’s destructive path. The tide rising 5 feet in less than an hour, the surge eventually topped 11 feet as it moved through downtown Corpus Christi, crushing buildings and destroying everything in its path.

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Monday morning, 108 broken and battered bodies washed up on North Beach, coated in heavy black crude oil leaked from wrecked tankers, making identification of the dead nearly impossible. Bodies where pulled from the debris and carried by mule pulled carts to makeshift morgues in nearby schoolhouses. Any identifying objects, recorded then placed in temporary mass graves.

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North beach cleanup

The official death toll for the Corpus Christ area was 287 as per officials wanting to downplay the numbers but realistic estimates put the total at between 600 and 1,000.

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45 years later, my mom and I, Sarah Elizabeth’s 3rd great niece, on North Beach.

©Laura M. Bailey 2018

What a tragic story and it is an amazing place and we loved our times there in the 80s.

About Laura M. Bailey

This blog is my attempt to write down the bones of a crazy, random, uncharted life and all the shoes I’ve worn along the way… From beach baby to city girl, wife. Mother, grandmother. Daughter, sister, coolest Aunt ever, construction worker, grease monkey, writer, poet, Publicity director, public speaker, tattoo studio owner and artist, crafter, cook, music promoter, race horse owner, breeder, Rancher and above all a flawed human profoundly in love with God. Within these stories I hope you’ll find the sorrows , joys, inspiration in ordinary places, sheer hilarity of life and all the common threads that connect us all.

Connect to Laura

Blog: https://alltheshoesiwear.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bailey_clan1

My thanks to Laura for allowing me to share posts from her archives and I recommend that you head over to explore for yourselves.