A Texas Girl Talks - Life… from a decidedly southern perspective!
Lorena
7 episodes
1 day ago
Send us a text 1971 - Davis Ranch, Sonora Texas I was six years old and it was shearing day. A large part of our annual income depended on the sale of wool and mohair, but I didn’t know or care about that part of it. My only thought was to get down to the pens as soon as mom would turn me loose when I heard that ancient pickup rattle up the road at daybreak carrying its crew of four or five Hispanic men. Dad would meet the truck at the driver’s side window, briefly conferring w...
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Send us a text 1971 - Davis Ranch, Sonora Texas I was six years old and it was shearing day. A large part of our annual income depended on the sale of wool and mohair, but I didn’t know or care about that part of it. My only thought was to get down to the pens as soon as mom would turn me loose when I heard that ancient pickup rattle up the road at daybreak carrying its crew of four or five Hispanic men. Dad would meet the truck at the driver’s side window, briefly conferring w...
Visiting My Ancestry - The Story of Tom and Buena Davis, part 1
A Texas Girl Talks - Life… from a decidedly southern perspective!
15 minutes
1 year ago
Visiting My Ancestry - The Story of Tom and Buena Davis, part 1
Send us a text Visiting My Ancestry - The Story of Tom and Buena Davis, part 1 For me, it began with a love story. But not a romance. It was a story about the love that a child has for her grandparents. Over time, the story evolved into an investigation of the history of these people who had been the bedrock of my childhood…the when and the where of it all. And even more recently, an exploration and analysis of the psychology of my ancestors. The what and why of the life they carved out for...
A Texas Girl Talks - Life… from a decidedly southern perspective!
Send us a text 1971 - Davis Ranch, Sonora Texas I was six years old and it was shearing day. A large part of our annual income depended on the sale of wool and mohair, but I didn’t know or care about that part of it. My only thought was to get down to the pens as soon as mom would turn me loose when I heard that ancient pickup rattle up the road at daybreak carrying its crew of four or five Hispanic men. Dad would meet the truck at the driver’s side window, briefly conferring w...
