Welcome to my World

Welcome to the domain different--to paraphrase from New Mexico's capital city of Santa Fe which bills itself "The City Different." Perhaps this space is not completely unique but my world shapes what I write as well as many other facets of my life. The four Ds figure prominently but there are many other things as well. Here you will learn what makes me tick, what thrills and inspires me, experiences that impact my life and many other antidotes, vignettes and journal notes that set the paradigm for Dierdre O'Dare and her alter ego Gwynn Morgan and the fiction and poetry they write. I sell nothing here--just share with friends and others who may wander in. There will be pictures, poems, observations, rants on occasion and sometimes even jokes. Welcome to our world!

Sunday, September 11, 2022

Memoir Monday, Sept 12, 1964

 

So this was the second trip, just one day between them. In so many ways this pair of journeys felt like a beginning and an end. The trips themselves really were not but my memory tends to place them that way. Several weeks at this point were a transition of sorts.

Sep 12, 1964a

The day began at 5:30 and to small avail methought. We loaded up and went out to the pasture about 7:30. The fillies were ornery but we finally got them loaded. We did the chores and came home to change and finish loading and finally about 10:00, we left and rolled. The fillies rode well. We hit the highline at Flag about 11:30. “Danny’s road” I said to myself, but I didn’t see him. I saw lots of trains and the division offices in Winslow but no Danny so I thought of Charlie. (Charlie W, the B&B 6 foreman.) The country over near the NM border is pretty. I really like it but it’s mostly Indian reservation. We hit Gallup about 4:30 and got out to William’s ranch about 5:00. Only one guy was there, a cowboy who used to drive the big Suburban Propane trucks over here. We unloaded the fillies without benefit of a chute and then had to load our new stock. They are plain pretty, all of them. I was real pleased with their appearance. The colt is a doll and the yearling filly beautiful. The buckskin mare looks like Annie Gann only better. We looked at Peavy Bimbo and Tomichi HanDBob who are both great big magnificent looking horses. Chief is really prettier but they are powerful and classy. We left about 6:00. I didn’t think we could possibly make it all the way home but we did. It was a long day’s journey into night though. Back through Holbrook and Winslow it seemed endless. Lights, lights and more lights, bumps and jars, sitting tight and staring like a zombie down the black ribbon. I don’t envy truck drivers much. We pulled into Flagstaff about 11:30. I ran in to get some Dairy Queens and tripped over a curb on my way out and dropped them. I took an awful spill. Dropped the cones and should have gone back for more but I was too shaken and trashed. The fall shook and hurt me  and I was so tired. We got home at 1:00 or so and woke up Charlie Mike to come and help us unload. They were awfully tired and glad to get on solid earth again. Finally a bit before 2:00 we fell into bed, me with a bruised knee, hip and elbow and Charlie W still on my mind.  Damn you, C.D. Watt, why did you have to leave me with another problem? And I don’t have sense enough to hide from you. Well, I’m free, white and twenty one, no? No more trips now, thanks.

The fillies were two of the young Quarter Horses we had acquired the previous year, now two-year-olds. They still seemd young compared to Tina and some of the others. The two were Happy and Jolly, mentioned before. They were to be bred to one of the two dual-registered Quarter/Appaloosa studs Mr Williams had.  Dad had met him at the summer Appaloose show in Flagstaff and later gone over to Gallup to firm up a deal. The trip had been postponed a bit but was finally made.

I was still a bit in shock from the accident witnessed on the 10th. Since the AT&SF main line closely parallels Highway 66/I-40 from Flagstaff to Gallup, the tracks were rarely out of sight. For distraction, I watched for trains and noted any interesting things for Charlie Mike who had stayed home to do chores there.

The new stock we got were Peppy, a stout dark sorrel mare, almost Hereford red. She was supposed to be in foal but lost it a month or so later. However she had a colt by Chief in 1966. With her was her not-yet-weened last colt, a six month old who looked a lot like her. He was named DingBob but we called him "Dingbat". He was actually a pretty good colt though. Then there was Bunny, a buckskin mare, in foal to HanDBob. There was also a dark dun yearling filly, Becky Sue. Oddy I can hardly remember her at all, not even where or when we sold or traded her but we did not have her long. The others were there until I was gone though.

I took a bad fall there at the DQ. I tripped over a curb or a parking barrier and fell like a rock. Actually that was the only bad thing about this trip although it was long and exhausting. Trips were generally exciting and a break in the dull routine but I was ready to leave that alone for awhile.

Though not the catalyst in reality, these two trips marked a transition for me, an end to the rather pointless pursuit of Danny and an almost abrupt change to someone else who came into my life and made a large impact there that lasted a long time; in some ways I'd say forever, since I have not ever forgotten.

Pictures. Horses of course since they were such a major aspect of life at this time.  They will appear off and on for the next two years. The first is Peppy and Bunny, behind Pep at the feedbox. Next is Charlie Mike holding Ding Bob, now weened and getting some preliminary training the next spring. Last is Bunny with her colt who I named Dusty. He was born in the spring of 1965 also.






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