A Life Well Loved - Blonde!

 My Dad is 87 years old now and I take him lunch almost every day. And every day he tells me the story of my birth. As soon as I walk in the door, he hugs me and then says.

"Do you know they were chopping corn when you were born. And I took time off and went to the hospital and I saw you through the window. You didn't have much hair. I stayed for a while and then went home. Your Grandma was watching the other kids.  And as soon as I walked in the door, she asked me what color your hair was. I told her blonde.

 And she looked at me and yelled "Blonde! Where did she get that hair."

I laughed and told her "I don't know, you will have to ask your daughter when she brings the baby home."

The funny thing was my dad is Mexican, and his hair is black as night and my mom being Irish had brown hair. Grandma couldn't figure out where I got blonde hair. But I didn't have blonde hair. I just didn't have enough for my dad to see it was brown. I have always had brown hair.

One more funny thing about this is he did name me after Sandra Dee who did have blonde hair. Except Mom wouldn't let him keep the D as my middle name.

He thinks that is the funniest story. Someday I might just dye my hair blonde and surprise him!

SK Virtue

01/29/2026

Snippets - Run Piggy Run

When I was about 18, I lived with my parents and a few siblings about a mile outside Park City, Montana, on a property with an old farmhouse, a bunkhouse, some sheds, and corrals. I’d graduated high school the year before and worked at a sewing shop in town. My 15-year-old younger brother, Raymond, stayed in the bunkhouse, and when he wasn’t in school, he helped my dad at a feedlot fifteen miles away. At the time, my parents decided to raise pigs, so they bought a bunch of weaner pigs and kept them in the corrals behind an old shed. Those little guys were adorable, always wrestling, fighting, and playing. One Saturday, my mom went to town with my siblings, my dad was at work, and I stayed home. My brother loved to sleep in when he didn’t have school or work, so he was still out cold in the bunkhouse. I happened to glance out the window and saw piglets running wild—they’d escaped the pen. I pounded on my brother Raymond’s door, yelling, “The pigs are out!” Then I bolted after them, chasing those wily little things around the corrals and sheds until I was winded. That’s when my brother joined in, but the piglets were like greased lightning, darting just out of reach, sending him face-first into the dirt a couple of times. We took turns chasing them for over an hour until we finally collapsed, exhausted and filthy. And wouldn’t you know it; those mischievous pigs found the hole they’d escaped from and trotted right back in. My brother looked at me and said, “Those goddamned pigs.”  I shook my head and echoed him. “Those goddamned pigs.” We both burst out laughing, then covered the hole with a board and nails, making sure we wouldn’t have to run after those little pink troublemakers again.

SK Virtue

02/01/2026

Rocks

 In life we all have rocks we carry around with us. 

Even people who seem to have everything. 

Their pockets are full of rocks weighing them down.

There is no need to be jealous of anyone.

You never know if their rocks are heavier than yours.

SK Virtue

10/12/2025

Poetry - Don't Cry for Me

 

Don't stand around a coffin 

And cry sad unending tears for me.

Send me off with a joyful laugh 

And watch me float away

In a cool spring morning breeze.

Don't bury me beneath the earth

Where the cold darkness will eat away at my body until

I am just a bag of bones.

Toss me into the wind

So that I can fly with the birds 

And float with the clouds toward home.

Spread my ashes across a golden valley of sunshine.

Where the green trees yearn to touch the blue sky.

Where purple flowers whisper in the warm breeze.

Toss me in the wind and let me fly.

Let me lay on carpet of wildflowers

In a quiet evening meadow.

Let me listen to the cricket's chirp

And listen to the flowers grow.

Dance with joy in the morning light

As you toss me in the wind.

Sing songs of jubilation

as you watch as I take flight.

Shed tears of happiness in the golden sunset

If you must cry for me.

Share stories of my life well lived

As I float away on the breeze.

Live your life with gladness

Don't dwell on all the sadness.

Think of me with a delightful smile.

Remember....

We'll be together in a little while.

 by SK VIRTUE

 copyright 09/24/2025

 

Snippets - Milk and Cows

By SK Virtue as told by my dad. My Dad was born in 1938. This snippet took place around 1948. Dad and Lupe were about a year apart in age. 

When I was about 8 years old, we lived on a farm just outside of Ballantine Montana. My dad farmed acreage he rented from Claude Pierson. Some of it was on north 28 above the tracks and some of it was down by the river. We had ten milk cows at the time. they were Holstein /Angus cross.  My brother Lupe, and I milked the cows in the morning than we would walk them down from the farm on the hill to the river acreage which was about 3 miles away. 

The cows calved each year, and we would take them to sale. One year we kept one of the calves. It was a bull. Lupe and I raised it. Lupe wrestled and played with that bull. And he began to ride it like a horse. You know when we took the cows down by the river Lupe would ride that big bull and people driving along the road would stop and stare. That bull was a big bull, close to 2000 pounds. But Lupe wasn't afraid of him. We were kind of sad when Dad sold him, but he went to a good place. The Goggins Ranch bought that bull and used him for quite a while for breeding.

My mom used to separate the milk and cream with a cream separator she turned with her hands. She would pour the cream into those metal cream cans with the lids and the skim milk would go to the pigs we were raising. Once the cream cans were full, Mom would put then out on the ditch bank by the road and the truck from the Worden creamery would drive by and pick them up. The next day they would leave them in the same spot with the money; they paid my mom; stuck in one of the cans. This happened about twice a week. 

Lupe used to get so mad at the cows when we milked because they were always swatting flies with their tails. And of course, the tail end would swish on our heads. One day Lupe decided to be smart and shave one of the cow's tails. I guess he figured that if the tail was gone the cow wouldn't swat flies. But he was wrong. The moment Lupe sat down to milk, that cow swished her tail stub and damn near knocked Lupe out. He had a bump on his head the size of a baseball for days. And you know what, I didn't have to milk that cow until her tail hair grew back. Dad said since Lupe shaved the tail, he would have to milk the cow until its tail hair grew back. Was I ever grateful!

SNIPPETS - Farm Life was the Best Life.

The best times of my life were spent on a farm. As a young kid we had the freedom to run and play and just spend a whole summer messing around. The farm was a kid's playground. And as far as friends... well, you had six other brothers and sisters who were your friends.

We played on the haystacks and built forts in them until we got in trouble for pulling all the bales out of the middle of the haystack. We had rooms everywhere inside the haystack. What we didn't know was that the stack could have caved in anytime. Dad was so angry at us that day. We were grounded to the yard for two whole days.

We grabbed the cattails out of the creek by the corrals and pulled them apart to make a fluffy layer on the road and then ran through it pretending we were in heaven.

We bounced on dead bloated sheep bellies like they were our own special trampolines. We didn't realize they might explode at any time.

We sat on the corral ties and sang to the cows and walked the plank like pirates until one of us fell in the cow poop and then we all got in trouble. And then we stood and teased my sister who had to have a bath because she was completely covered in cow poop.

I was fed worms by my sister and brother, and we tasted dog food from the dog dish just to see what it tasted like. I even ate a robin egg because I thought it was Easter candy.

We watched as Dad milked the cow and squirted it at the line of cats that sat in a row waiting patiently to taste the delicious milk.

We swam in irrigation ditches and rode our bikes down dirt roads.

We pulled weeds in the garden as we sang at the top of our lungs "Mama Mia, Mama Mia, Mama Mihee-hee-hee -ia! (This one is for you Dar!) 

We played hide and seek in the dark and shadow tag in the moonlight. 

We found anthills and dug tunnels. Somehow, we never got bitten by the ants.

We ran in flooded pastures and got chased by water snakes. 

There were so many things for a kid to do that we were never bored. We stayed out until dark and got up at the break of dawn the next morning to run and play again.

The farm was a magical place, and we never really needed to go anywhere else. Because we had everything we needed on the farm.

SK VIRTUE

06/25/2025

 

Snippets - Tragedy on the Yellowstone River.

 The year was around 1967, and we lived on a farm just outside Billings, Montana. My dad worked as the hired hand, doing everything from milking cows to planting cornfields. Mom was always busy taking care of us kids, cooking, and feeding the chickens. For us kids, the farm was like a giant playground filled with endless fun and adventure. There was never a dull moment. The farm was bordered by the Yellowstone River, about a mile away, but Dad gave us strict orders to stay far from it. The Yellowstone River, though it appeared calm and leisurely, was notorious for its treacherous undertows and strong currents. Mom and Dad warned us that we’d face the spanking of our lives if we even thought about heading toward the river.

One day, while we were playing on a haystack, I noticed a man in orange running across the field toward us from the direction of the river. It was unusual because the farm was far from Billings, and we rarely saw anyone out there—most people drove up the road. I had never seen someone running across a field like that. I think my dad saw him at the same time because he yelled for us kids to get into the yard and tell Mom. We all ran into the yard, and my sister told Mom. When Mom saw the man, she made us go inside the house. Before going in, I peeked back and noticed the man was wearing nothing but an orange vest. Dad talked to him for a few minutes before rushing into the house to tell Mom there had been an accident in the river. That day, we learned how dangerous the Yellowstone River could be. The man and his friend had been rafting when they hit rough currents and capsized. The man in the orange life jacket survived, but his friend went under. The sheriff and emergency teams came to drag the river and eventually found the body caught on the rocks in the deep water. That image haunted us for days, and we talked about it a lot. To this day, I still think about it, remembering the fear and sadness I felt as a child. Our once-innocent playground had been shattered by tragedy, and it was never the same again.

A life Well Loved -1957 Chevy Nomad

    ****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish. Mom's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. Both my grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

The Nomad by SK Virtue according to Dad.

The 1957 Chevy Nomad was bought by my brother Stany for $125.00. It came through Whittier Buick, where Stany used to work. It was a lot of money to pay for a car, but Stany and I figured it would work pretty good for our growing family. It was a nice-looking station wagon. It was a two door and red with a white top. No dents or rust. And it ran good. And I figured it looked pretty good for a family car. 

 There was only one problem with the damn thing. When it rained and you ran through a mud puddle or water on the road, the spark plugs would get wet and if you weren't home then you were stranded until the damn things dried off.  One time we went to the grocery store to get ice cream, and we were almost home when it started raining. Your mom yelled "Hit the gas Gons, we don't want to sit on the side of the road, the ice cream will melt!" At least the car was fast.

We took it to Butte when I went to work at the Anaconda Copper Mine. The brakes went out in the switchbacks, so we did a lot of coasting in low gear to get to Butte. We only had a jar full of pennies on that trip to put gas in it, but it got us there. Your mom didn't drive it much in Butte, because all the streets were pretty much hills. I don't know how I did it, but I drove those streets. I just hoped nobody was too close behind me when I had to stop and go!

When we moved back to Billings we moved out on a farm just outside of town. I got the brakes fixed so your mom could drive it. She only drove it on sunny days though. All you kids would go with her to the store. One day she and you kids went to the store, and I remember she brought me a pop and doughnut out to the field. As soon as she pulled up you kids were at the window yelling that your mom had backed into a cement pylon in the parking lot. Your mom was so mad because she had asked you kids to keep quiet and she would tell me. Of course, you all promised but you kids couldn't keep quiet. I laughed and laughed.

We had that Nomad for quite a while, but it was a two door, and we needed a four door. I think we got a four door Ford wagon. One day two guys drove up and asked if the Nomad was for sale.  I figured I didn't need it anymore. I sold it to them for $250.00. I made a little money off it. I think they said they were taking it to California or something like that.

SK Virtue (as told by my dad)

6/3/25

Poetry -The Heart That Beats.

 I heard your beat for the first time today and it brought tears to my eyes.

I never thought the sound of you would make me want to cry.

You have been with me since the beginning

And you will be with me until my life is finished.

My love for you transcends space and time.

My life with you has been sublime.

You are that constant in a life well lived.

I know you won't waver until the end.

You have been with me from the start.

I will love you until death do us part....

In this life, we walk together.

My heart my love, my until forever.

SK Virtue

May 17,
2025

SNIPPETS - Flying Clothes -A Moment in Time

 In 1964 when I was 4 years old my dad went to work at a copper mine in Butte Montana. He took the bus, and we all stood and waved goodbye to him. At the time he didn't have a place to stay except in the man camp, but he finally found an apartment in some row housing for the mine. A month later he came home and packed up our 1957 Chevy Nomad, with five kids, my mom and all of our belongings and headed through the Rocky Mountain switchbacks with no brakes and a jar full of pennies. My littlest brother slept in a cradle in the back.

I remember we lived on the bottom floor of the apartment building. And I remember that my little brother slept in in a dresser drawer. I also remember that my mom and dad friended a couple and their children that lived in the apartment above us. This couple argued. We could hear them almost every night. I don't think they beat each other or their kids. They just yelled, mostly when he didn't come home right after work. That is when the spectacle began.

 We kids couldn't wait to watch the show. We knew it had started when the husband's shoes fell on the ground in front of our apartment window. Then every single article of his clothing floated down as the wife threw them out the window. It usually happened once a week.  Mom and Dad would laugh and say, "Guess So and So stayed out too long."

 Hours later, when he did get home there was a lot of yelling followed by silence. About fifteen minutes later the kids would come down and collect the shoes and clothes in a basket and take them upstairs again.

We eventually left the town of Butte when the miners went on strike and Mom told Dad it was time to pack up and leave. It wasn't a very safe job for my dad either. A few miners had been blown up in the tunnels and the working conditions were pretty bad. So once again we packed everything in the 1957 Chevy Nomad and made our trek through the switchbacks, no brakes and all. That was the last time my dad ever went underground. He went back to farming and never looked back. As far as the family of flying clothes we never heard from them again.

 

Berkeley Pit Butte Montana

Poetry - It Is Finished

“It is finished.” …you softly sighed.

As you hung on the cross and died.

My heart broke into tiny pieces,

Tears of shame I cried.

 

“How could this be?” I sobbed aloud.

“That you would die for me.

I am no one in this lonely world.

In me… what do you see?”

 

“Is your love for me so very true?

That it can see past all my flaws.

Can you give me a life so new?

And forget all that ever was.”

 

I felt your whisper in my heart.

 “Your sins have been forgiven.

My child, I’ve loved you from the start.

You’ll be with me in heaven.”

SK Virtue - 3/14/25

SNIPPETS - THE DAY I ALMOST...

 The year was around 1965. My family lived on a farm just outside of Myers Montana.  My dad was the hired hand on the farm. We lived in a house that was sided with tar paper that looked like brick siding. I remember a lot of things about this time in my life but the most vivid is the day I almost died. 

Being a farm kid meant that you had pretty much the whole place for a playground. As farm kids we played in the haystacks and small irrigation ditches. We ran in the pastures and rode our bikes down dirt roads. We played hide and seek in the barns and outbuildings. We pretty much stayed out of my mom's hair for the day. She had her hands full with house chores and taking care of my younger siblings. 

I remember the day was hot. And I remember my mom telling us to go play but stay away from the big ditch that was close to our house. We played hide and seek, rode pretend horses and played cops and robbers.

 But kids being kids we eventually forgot my mom's warning and ended up standing on the bank of the ditch. We were all hot and sweating and I remember we stood looking down into that cool water. I don't exactly know how it began but I do remember we started teasing each other about being pushed in and how we were giggling and playing around.

 Suddenly I felt a push and I remember falling into the water and sinking. I could see the bubbles surrounding me as I was floating under the water and I tried to come up for air, but the water kept me cocooned. I was in a dark place, and I felt like I was being sucked through something and then it was light again, and I felt hands pulling me up out of the water and onto the ditch bank. I took a deep breath of fresh air and started coughing and gagging. I remember my mom yelling and my sisters and brothers crying. 

Apparently and I say apparently my brother had pushed me in to see if I could float and if I could fit through the culvert that was farther on down the ditch. The good news was that I did fit through that culvert, but the bad news was that I and my siblings got the spanking of our lives from my mom and were banished to the fenced yard for a week. To kids a week meant forever!

Years later I asked my brother why he pushed me in the ditch, and he said, "I just wanted to see if you would fit through the culvert."

 Hmm! Guess I did! And I lived to tell the story!

SK Virtue

A Life Well Loved - Stories of my Parents - Elvis

   ****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish. Mom's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. Both my grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

Elvis Comes to Town - by Dad

Dorie and I had been going out for some time, when she told me one afternoon after school that Elvis was coming to town. All the girls in school were so excited to go. They couldn't believe that Elvis was coming to Montana. I asked Dorie if she wanted to go. She said no. She didn't much like Elvis. So, we didn't go. A few days later she climbed in the car after school, and she was laughing. I asked her what was so funny. She said all the girls had dressed up and went to see Elvis. They came to school the next day madder than hornets. They saw Elvis alright. Elvis the monkey. All the hype was for Elvis the monkey. I am sure glad we didn't go. 

By SK Virtue as told by Gonsalo Victoria Morales Jr.

The Stories I will Tell

 When I am old and gray

 And my time to go is near.

The stories I will tell those that lend an ear.

When my days are getting numbered

 And my eyes are getting weak

 The stories I will tell those who hear me speak.

When time is not what matters

 and I wander from room to room,

 The stories I will tell who or what or whom.

I will tell of memories of yesteryears

And of time gone by

I will reminisce of days of old

And ponder at the sky.

I might not know a name or what I ate that day.

But I can tell you about old memories that don't go away.

So, if you have a chance to sit with me today.

Listen to my memories and what I have to say.

And somewhere down the road of life if you feel you want to share

Pass on the stories of my life to those that lend an ear. 

 by SK VIRTUE

 copyright

4/8/2025

SNIPPETS - RIGHT PLACE WRONG CAR

 I was so excited to get a new SUV.  It was a 2000 Hyundai Santa Fe. It was one of the first to come off the assembly line. And I loved it. it was sleek. It was silver and it had curves in all the right places. My Santa Fe was special to me. 

I lived in Wyoming at the time. My husband worked at the coal mine and both my kids were in junior high, and I was a stay-at-home mom who worked out of my home doing alterations. 

We had new cars before, but this one had all the bells and whistles that I wanted. Power heated leather seats, Awd, silver, lift gate, roomy and even looked good.  This was my beauty that I had picked myself. 

I loved to drive my SUV to deliver my alterations and get groceries and I knew I would recognize in any parking lot. It was a beauty to behold. People noticed it. One day I came out of the grocery store and saw a man running his hands along its curves. I stopped in surprise. He looked up and saw me watching. He laughed and said, "She sure has curves where you don't expect them."  It felt a little weird that a man was running a hand along my SUV's curves, but I put that thought aside.  I grinned and said, "Sure does!"

I knew my Hyundai from inside out and I could pick her out of a dozen cars in the parking lot. Or so I thought I could. I went grocery shopping one day. I parked in my usual row. I locked my little beauty. I went in and did my usual shopping and visiting. The bag person bagged my groceries and asked if I needed help taking the groceries to my car. I said thank you, but no, I could handle it. I proudly pushed the cart of groceries out to my silver, 2000 Hyundai Santa Fe. I pushed the key to unlock the back lift door. I lifted the door. I then preceded to put my groceries in the back, all the while humming to myself. I got a whiff of cigarette smoke and wondered where it came from. I didn't smoke and my husband hadn't used the car yet. Hmm...that was strange. I looked around to see if anyone was smoking as they walked by me. No one there. Then a I heard a strange sound come from the car. A baby's coo. I bent and looked into the car. There was a lady, looking at me in the mirror of my SUV, smoking a cigarette. Behind her sat a baby in a car seat.  I stood up and looked around. Just two cars down, the row was another sleek silver Hyundai. I pushed the button on my key fob and the lights of the one, two cars down flashed. That one was my Hyundai. 

I looked at the lady in the front of the car and spoke. "I'm sorry. I thought this was my SUV." I grinned embarrassingly. I started taking my groceries back out and putting them in my cart.

"I thought you were the bag lady, and just bringing my groceries out to me." she replied.

We both laughed. Well so much for me knowing my SUV. I put my groceries in my SUV and went home. Later I bought black pin stripes and put then on the side of my Hyundai, so I could recognize her in a parking lot. And I made dang sure I checked to see that it was my SUV each time, I came out of the grocery store!

SK VIRTUE 

SNIPPETS-APRIL FOOLS

 Today is All Fool's Day. I haven't fooled anyone today, but a memory comes back to me that makes me smile and cry at the same time. When we were living in Wyoming and planning on moving back to Montana, I decided to fool my mom. I called her on that April first, and we talked for a while about little things that moms and daughters talk about, and it eventually came around to our move. She asked if I was starting to pack. I was quiet for a moment wondering if I should do this or not. I sighed.

"Mom. . . Umm we aren't moving to Montana; we are moving to Maine." I spoke.

There was silence on the other end.

"Mom." I asked.

Click. Mom hung up on me. I didn't expect that. I called again. No answer. I called again. And this time she picked up.

"APRIL FOOL'S " I said before she could hang up again.

"Sandra Kay" she yelled.

She hung up again.

I called one more time. She answered.

"Sorry Mom!"

Mom laughed and laughed. I laughed. She didn't hang up on me again, but I sure learned my lesson. Don't April fool your mom.

SK VIRTUE

April 1,2025

A Life Well Loved - the Stories of my parents - 1948 Chevy

   ****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish. Mom's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. Both my grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

1948 Chevy - by Dad

My first car was a 1948 Chevy. My brother Stany bought it for me for $150.00 when he worked at Whittier Buick in Billings.  It was a nice car. And I had it for a long time. I had it when I first met your mom, and we had it when we were married. When your mom and I were dating we drove around a lot in it. One night we drove to Tom's Bar. I can't remember if we were looking for her folks or I was just going to get something to drink. Well, the brakes weren't working on the old 48 and I drove into the side of the bar.  It hit the side of the bar with a bang. Good thing those old buildings were sturdy then. No one saw us so I backed up and we sped off. We never told anyone. 

One night I was in Tom's Bar with my brother Lupe and Old Tom started telling this story about how something hit the side of his bar. He was dozing on his stool waiting for customers and there was a big bang, and the bottles rattled on the wall, and he fell off his stool.  He didn't know what it was but it sure scared the heck out of him. I didn't say a word. Even my brother Lupe didn't know. It was pretty much a secret between your mom and me until now. You know that old car never had any dents in it.

My brother Lupe and I drove around a lot in the car when your mom was in school. One day we picked up a hitchhiker. He wanted a ride as far as he could go.  While we were driving Lupe took his knife out and cleaned his fingernails and then laid it on the dash.  That hitchhiker couldn't get out of the car fast enough. We hadn't even driven a mile before he was ready to get out. We weren't going to hurt him, just scare him. 

Another time we decided to let all the air out of the tires of the old Chevy and drive down the railroad tracks. It was a pretty rough ride, but we did get to the other side of town faster. 

It was a good car.

SK Virtue as told by Gonsalo Morales Jr.

My mom sitting on the Chevy

A Life Well Loved - the Stories of my parents - Missing Cat

 

   ****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish. Mom's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. Both my grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

Missing Cat by Dad. (Some of the words may be offensive but I can't really tell the story without them)

I found a black kitten one day as I was out feeding cows. I took it to Dorie in the house. She decided to keep it and feed it. Later on, I asked her what she had decided to name it.

 Dorie said. "Asshole."

 I laughed and asked her why she named it asshole, and she said that is what he acted like. A little asshole.  Asshole hung around the place that summer. Dorie was right. He was an ornery cat. He followed me everywhere too. One day as I was out feeding the cows in the corral, I heard the strangest commotion and looked up and an eagle had somehow caught Asshole and was flying away with him. I watched as they faded into the distance and then walked into the house and told Dorie that she had just lost her asshole. I shouldn't have grinned. She gave me the strangest look and asked me what in hell I was talking about. I told her an eagle had just taken her cat, Asshole. 

She said, "That's not funny, Gons."

I tried not to laugh and told her, "Of course it's not funny when you lose your asshole."

She didn't talk to me the rest of the day.

SK VIRTUE as told by Gonsalo Morales Jr.

A Life Well Loved - the Stories of my parents - The First time We Met

 ****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish/mix. Mom and Dad's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. My grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

The First Time We Met by Dad

There used to be a gas station in Pompey's Pillar Montana called Witzel's Gas Station. It was owned by Earl Witzel.  All the kids would go there to hang out. We would play cards; drink sodas and listen to music. The first time I met your mom was playing cards there.  I kept winning at cards. She accused me of cheating and threw her cards at me and took off walking down the road. She was pretty darn quick. I jumped in my car and followed her. I caught up with her on the bridge on Fly Creek in Pompey's. I stopped the car and rolled down my window. She called me a cheater and tried to hit me and before she could say anything else I grabbed her and pulled her through the car window. You know those 1948 Chevys had big windows and she was pretty small. I held her close until she quit hitting me. And after that we drove around until she quit being mad at me. I took her back to the bar in Pompey's Pillar, where her parents spent their time. 

The next day she called me from school. I worked at the elevator in Pompey's Pillar. It used to be by the train tracks. She called me at work and asked me if I wanted to go to the drive-in movie. That's when I knew she liked me. 

SK Virtue as told by Gonsalo Morales Jr.

side note: I always thought Dad was the one who asked mom on a date, but it seems it was the other way around. 😉

A Life Well Loved - The Stories of my parents.

****Back story. My mom and dad were married in 1957 at the very young ages of 15 years old and 17 years old. Mom was pregnant at the time and Dad wanted to marry her. My dad is Hispanic, and my mom is Irish/mix. Mom and Dad's sisters and brothers were very much against my parents getting married. But my grandparents weren't. My grandmothers went to the courthouse with my parents and signed the consent for them to get married.  My parents were married for 66 years and had seven children. Mom passed away on April 2, 2023, and Dad is still alive at the time of this article writing which is March 2025. These are the stories of their life according to them. ******

Rooster No More- by Dad

 The year was 1957. Dorie and I had been married for a few months. We weren't poor but we weren't rich either.   My dad gave me a rooster one day. I took it home and put it in the hen house with the rest of the chickens. He was a good-looking rooster so I thought he might be just what the hens needed. He immediately ruled the roost. He walked around crowing with his feathers all puffed up and sort of took over as boss of the flock. I thought it would go well.

 The next day I came home from work and to my surprise the old rooster was gone. I went in the house and saw Dorie at the stove frying something up and humming. It smelled good. 

I walked over and asked her. "What's for dinner Dorie?"

She looked me straight in the eye and spoke. "Your rooster."

Apparently, the rooster had attacked my lovely 4-foot 11-inch wife. And that was the straw that broke the rooster's back. Dorie wrung its neck, plucked and cooked it. All within the span of 6 hours.

 I laughed. "You know that was an old rooster." I grinned.

"Yep." she shook her head, and her curls bobbed up and down.

"You know it will be like eating rubber." I grinned again.

"Uh huh!"  She shrugged her shoulders. "Didn't want it to go to waste."

"Okay, I'll go wash up." 

We sat at the table looking at that skinny old rooster carcass. I grabbed a leg and bit into it. I was right. it was like chewing on a piece of rubber. Dorie grabbed the other leg and gnawed on it before throwing it down on the plate.

"I guess I'll go fry us some eggs." she said.

While she was frying eggs, I gathered up that old carcass and took it outside.

 At least the cats would eat good tonight.

 by SK Virtue as told by Gonsalo Morales Jr.