WHO'S WHO, AND WHO IS THAT?

See if you know who these two cuties are........... send your guesses in the comments section.

Coming to Texas in May

Oliver and Julianne Semmes will be coming back to Texas in May. Oliver, pictured above, will be conducting bass fishing lessons on Poth Ranch ponds. He will share some "Florida" tips on how to fill your stringer as pictured above. You need to sign up in the comments section if your want to take part in the fun. Seating is limited so get your name in early. Late signees will only be permitted standing room as is available on the date selected. All signees are required to attend the fish fry which will follow.

WHO'S WHO, AND WHO IS THAT?

Your problem, if you choose to accept it is name the person in the picture. Put your answers in the comment section. Good luck.............

Poth Family getting together in Poth

Family pictured standing l-r, Barry Poth, Larry Poth, Beverly Poth, Aunt Ruth Poth, Melissa Poth (Larry's wife), Greg Poth, Kim Poth (Dean's wife), Dean Poth, Fred Poth, and Paul Semmes. Bottom row... Victor Flilller (Patricia's husband), Patricia Poth Flieller, Julianne Poth Semmes, and Oliver Semmes (Julianne's husband).
Julianne and Oliver have taken much time and funds to remodel our Grandfather's home in Poth, Texas. Last fall when they were in from their home in Florida they got a bunch of us together for fun and food in Poth. We all had a great time telling new and old stories and having fun being with our family. Thanks again Julianne and Oliver for getting us all together. Thanks again too for all of the work you have done restoring the Poth home that we all have so many memories.

Memories..... sent to me by cousin Tom Poth

In the fall of 1952 my father bought a dark blue Ford F-1, 1/4 ton pickup truck. In typical male fashion I immediately memorized its vital statistics. It was a flathead eight with 145 horsepower @ 3600 RPM, with a three speed heavy duty center shift and starter button on the dash. It came with foam padding on the seat, insulation on the back of the headliner, sound deadener on the doors, 2 tone upholstery, 2 sun visors, locks on each door, a dome light, and a locking glove box. Another important feature was the ventilation system. It consisted of vent windows in the doors, a large ventilator on the cowl that deflected air onto passenger's legs, and a heater/defroster. We take these features for granted on modern trucks, but they were cutting edge in 1952. This was a vehicle that was solidly built from thick steel that was almost impervious to dents and could haul two horses without much of a strain. This was the last of the “old trucks” that Ford built and it was my main transportation and almost constant companion from the third grade until I graduated in the early sixties. It was scary fast in the quarter mile and vanquished all except the most serious farm dragsters. It ran hot and was always cold in winter. Those big flat fenders have always remained a thing of beauty to me.There were many stories that surrounded this truck. One of the first experiences was a “Hell's Bells, its hailing” moment when the Ford, Mom and I were caught in a vicious hail storm on the road to town. Mom’s only words were “Hell's Bells, it’s hailing!” That was all she said. I thought that strange because she was never at a loss for words and more often than not it would have been a prayer. She hated hail though, and those stones were huge and the sound they made was awesome as it hit the new truck. It was also one of the first times she had driven it, so to her, I guess, it really was hell. But, the event I remember vividly was “the great-ranch-flea-the-flood” episode. That was the first and last night we spent on the Metate Creek. Mom and Dad had always wanted a house or cabin on the ranch. A shack where they could spend a night or weekend and hear the coyotes sing. Such a place existed next to the log pens near the Metate Creek, in the form of an old two room camp house used long ago by ranch hands. This was at the far end of the ranch maybe three miles from the highway.For weeks Dad repaired the walls, roof and floors while Mom boiled water, scalded and scrubbed the entire interior before we painted it bright colors. Large windows were cut into the wall and hinged so that they would swing open. When we were finished the place looked as pretty as a roadside tourist court.That night, supper was eaten and we were ready for bed when a flea was discovered. Dad’s only thought was of typhus fever and that we had to get to a doctor immediately to get shots. This brought about a series of discussions of whether the insect was actually a flea (parents) or some innocent gnat-like creature (Jay Boy and I). The decision was flea, and this produced many references of docs and shots. It was a restless night of prowling coyotes outside the windows, dreams of needles and hordes of imagined fleas crawling in our beds.The next morning when we awoke it started to rain. Piling into the truck we started up the old road through the white brush and prickly pear until coming to a dry creek bottom where Dad stuck the truck trying to get up a small embankment. It started to rain harder. We found some old tin and put it under the back wheels for traction. Not good enough. Water started to flow slowly down the creek. Thoughts of dying from “flea fever” vanished as the creek began to rise more rapidly. The smell of burning rubber as the tires spun on the tin and brush was sickening, while mud flew backwards covering us as we tried to push a swiveling truck forward when it only could go sideways. At last mesquite logs and more white brush under the tires helped the truck free itself and suddenly pop up and over the bank. With Dad fighting the wheel, straining to see through fogged-over windows, Mom saying Hail Marys and everyone yelling directions, the truck went sliding and twisting up the road tearing through the brush and small mesquite trees. Each ditch and small incline became a major challenge. Finally, upon reaching the highway it became evident just how pathetic we all looked; caked in mud and wet clothes. The truck was scratched, steaming, muddy and a mess inside. We had made it, but Mom vowed never to go back there to stay again. The flea had won. Uncle E. B. lived in Pleasanton, and he laughed at the sight we presented him when we appeared on his doorstep to shower and dry off. Later, he would tease Mom about the great ‘flea the flood’ episode every time he saw her.We received our shots that afternoon.

My Carnes Grandparents

My grandparents on my Mother's side of the family were Marianne Campbell Carnes and Alfred Burton Carnes. They were opposites as are many couples. She was quiet, reserved, and proper. He was an outgoing fun loving kind of man that enjoyed having his grandkids around him where he could spin wild tales and watch our eyes get bigger and wider. His grandsons he especially liked telling tales of loading us all up and taking us to the "farm" where he would get old so and so with his coon dogs and we could all chase after the dogs treeing coons all night. He had us thinking that we would load up as soon as it got dark and off we would go. I'm sure the other adults around would chuckle listening to him spin his tales. I tell people now that it was because of him that I still enjoy doing wildlife things. Mother reinforced that by putting me to sleep as a small kid by my insisting on her telling me about the little boy that went hunting.
One of the things that stand out in my mind about our Grandmother, "Mammaw" as we called her, was that she really didn't like storms of any kind. A loud clap of thunder would have her off to find the jar of "Holy" water which she would sprinkle about the house. She must have had a bad experience with storms is the thing I guess happened.
She and "Pappy" as we called our grandfather married when she was thirty and I think he was thirty-four. They raised eight children. Four girls, Mother, Aunts Patty, Rosemary, and Johnnie, and four boys, Uncles Tom, Burt, Bob, and Don.
Pappy served Wilson County as Sheriff for twenty years. When he died there were so many people at the funeral that there were more standing outside the church than were inside. Someone observed that when the herse arrived at the cemetary some three miles distant that cars were still leaving the Church. When the family was talking about how many people had come to the funeral Uncle Bob said that half came to pay their respects and half were there to make sure he was gone. He said it jokingly but, it is said that he served his twenty years without ever once wearing a pistol.
They raised all of us to be an extended family. It continues to be fun to be part of a family that truly enjoyes each other. My Dad often would say, "There is nothing to a Carnes like another Carnes".

Whitetail Deer

When you think of a really big deer........ what do you think of ?

What kind of deer qualifies as a "big one"? I guess it goes to beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

When you thind of a big deer what is it that you think of? Is your favorite.......... wide spread, drop horns, lots of points, mass, or is it all of these things put into one?

The odd ones..........

Very strange.
I've never seen anything like this..........

Lots of mass

Do you like 'em heavy?
Massive...........
Holy cow....................

Lots of points

Roger Matheny with his 233 and 3/8 B&C.
Atascosa County deer killed this year........ scored 203 B&C.
Points and mass....

This is really a nice deer...... too bad the picture didn't ccome through.
Wow, too many to count............

Wide Spread

Like this one?
Very nice..........
I just wonder what this one looked alike walking around...... wow!

Drop Antlers

This is a low fenced Wilson County deer.
Points and drops.........
Nice..............
Whoa............... I like this one, how about you?

The Monsters.....they have it all

Does this qualify as a big one?
This is another of those deer that has it all...... points, spread, and mass.
Yep, this qualifies as a monster. And to think he was killed with a bow.
This deer is known as the "Camp Bullis Buck". He was a free roaming deer north of San Antonio that was found in a dazed state. I don't think they still have found out what was wrong with him. What a deer!

The ones that are still out there.........

And here he is my herd sire.......................................... better do some growing!

My Herd Sire

Here he is Ferdinand II. He better get to eating and growing if he is going to be a big one.

Memories of Dad

Dad mounted ready to work the Poth ranch cattle. I remember going with them as a youngster, "Pappa", my grandfather Poth, had a horse for all of us ..... cousins, uncles, because his grocery store was closed Labor Day in September that was one of the days we would work his cattle. It was a wild time. I remember he always hired some "real" cowhands because the cattle were wild and didn't want to be driven into the cattle pens. The cattle pens were mostly made of mesquite logs stacked horrizontally between two upright mesquite posts placed at about six foot spacings. I remember one thing you learned early is where to quickly climb up and out of the way of the wild cows who would come bellaring with their mouths open slobering trying to put a horn in your back pocket. Whew!
Dad pictured while attending St. Mary's University in San Antonio.
Dad pictured playing for Coleman in the West Texas League. He is standing third from the left.
Dad while pitching for Omaha Nebraska then a tripple A farm club of the Cleaveland Indians.
This is a picture of Dad with his brothers, sister, my grandparents and oldest Poth cousins. From left to right.... back row.... Uncle Bob Poth, Aunt Lilly B. Poth, Leissner "Dad", Alfreda "Mother", Aunt Katherine and Uncle E. B. Poth, Aunt Fay and Uncle Howard Poth, Aunt Alice and Uncle Jay Poth, cousins l-r Julianne, Beverly, Marlene, Jay (front), and grandparents E. B. Poth and Lilly Leissner Poth. My Dad was named after my Grandmother's brother Ferdinand Leissner thus Leissner Ferdinand Poth.

Turkeys

I'm starting to see turkeys out and about. It shouldn't be long before they start strutting and doing their mating ritual. I think the above pictures were taken in late February 2004.

Wildflowers

Phacea "Bluecurls"
Yucca "Spanish Dagger"
Spotted Beebalm "Horsemint"
Texas Thistle
Verbina
Verbina
Prairie Phlox
Dayflower
Golden Crownbeard "Butter Daisy"
Prickly Poppy
Scarlet Paintbrush "Indian Paintbrush"
Indian Blanket
Evening Primrose
Silver-Leaf Nightshade
False Ragweed
Fringed Sneezweed
Meadow Pink
Lantana
Herbertia