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Healing on the Mountain

Healing on the Mountain

Sleet and snow pelted my face. It muffled the tune I murmured. It froze in my whiskers,on my hunting cap, and on my coat. Texas batwing chaps protected my wool pants. Icicles dangled in my horse’s mane and fetlocks and the reins draped through numb fingers in my sheep-skinned mittens. My hunter followed riding stiff and awkward; an unmoving dark-cloaked block of humanity.

Death Knell of the Dial Tone

Death Knell of the Dial Tone

Two longs, two shorts, two longs. Nope, it’s not the Morse Code signal for S.O.S. Besides, the emergency signal is three shorts, two longs, three shorts, just to clear that up. The morse code-y kind of ring is none other than a party line on a telephone. You had to listen for your ring assigned to you by the phone company. Party lines could have as few as two and as many as ten. It was a way to reach rural America with fewer lines. The idea was popular in the 30s and 40s and started to decline in the 70s, and, surprisingly, the last party line was shut down in 1991.

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