Memoir Monday, Dec 26, 1964

The last post for 1964, the day after Christmas.It was not a Monday that year but a Saturday. My recollection of the actual Christmas is not  too clear. Apparently it was not a bad day. I was thrilled to hear I was going to get a phonograph; it had been ordered but not arrived yet. This was another of Mom's special trading stamp surprises. Things deteriorated a bit the next day, it seems, after no major kerfuffles on the holiday. Peace was too good to be true for very long.

Dec 26, 1964

I got up fairly early, fed, ate and saddled to ride. All was ok. I made a system of leaving the mares in the upper pen and riding out later to turn them out. Came home and got the mail. I got a beautiful Christmas card and a little Indian necklace from Dusty. I guess that is his reply. It won me. Heard from Judy too. Rode out leading Buzz to turn the mares out. I got Chief and Leo led too. The folks had another full scale go-around today. God, they are driving me stark staring. I really feel like taking off just to escape that. I guess I could get a job somewhere. Dusty would try to help me. Or I could go and work for Cim in Missouri! Mom and I drove out this evening.  Charlie Mike stayed to do the home chores. I wrestled Powwow around awhile. Eve’s curse hit me this evening and I really feel awful. The worry and strain is making me worse, no doubt. I guess I’ll go to bed. I tried to write letters this evening but didn’t get too far with them. I can dream about Dusty tonight and his card: “To you, Sweetheart. Merry Christmas” it said,  I can’t really believe that a guy like him could really love me but I have proof in my hand. “My baby’s got me locked up in chains,” What a fine frail chain, but strong enough to hold my heart. The most perfect gift and just right that I have ever been given. A couple of *very* special letters and now this--do I have any room for doubt anymore?   (2nd para?) The pen pals did not really know me, have not seen me at my normal unlovely self in my squalid setting, and thus were ’in love’ with an imagined vision as I had been with Jose Cazador. Somehow, Dusty looked past the squalor, the rags and tatters,the scars and strangeness and still says he sees not a muleskinner but an Angel!  That truly seems incredible.

I had begun a plan that required three trips to the pasture but mostly worked out well. In the morning, we fed the pregnant mares and the  Quarter Horses that were out there in the upper pen at the corrals. Then at midday I let them out or put them in the lower pen where the ditch ran through and opened the outer gate to let the rest of the herd in to clean up any feed left. That was reversed in the evening, often leaving the gate between open the two pens.

Of course the surprise card and gift from Dusty made my day. The card in itself was special but the gift even more. It was a tiny sun-face pendant on a very fine silver chain taped inside the card. It was so pretty. I wore it constantly for quite awhile, Eventualy the chain or its clasp broke but I did not lose the pendant and  have it to this day. I dimly recall I woke one day and it had separated but I found it all. The pendant is now normally on a much larger chain along with a crystal from a mine up on the Huachucas (below which I broke my ankle in April 1999!) and a tiny Apache tear. I detached it to get a picture. 

I have no idea what the parents were fussing about --the usual bullcrap that I ignored probably--but that had become such a common thing. It was not long before I was the receiver of many--more than previouly--nasty lectures and harrangues as well.  The next two years were brutal for that. 

For several years I had been suffering from severe monthly cramps. Later I learned that was mostly from endometriosis but then I had no idea, only knew I was torn by some vicious pains. A hot water bottle and many aspirins helped some, let me mostly be functional. I got little sympathy, though. Some from Mom at times but Dad basically accused me of whining and trying to get out of work. But other than a few abcessed teeth, those were the worst pain I ever suffered. My broken leg was truly not nearly as bad. And Powwow was the paint mare Susie's filly born that fall. She was rowdy!

Photos: The corrals from the bluff above. The lower pen is visible on the left side and the ditch below it. Next Tina, a month or two before her first colt, Bravo, was born. It looks like Bunny and Patsy--the two heads on the side.And then Patsy before she had Patrick, the same year (1964). I often fed grain in a feedbag to keep it from being wasted. I made them from empty feed sacks. No cost except my time to cut and stitch them by hand. Labor filled in a lot of expenses, one way or another. And last, the card and the little pendant. Yes, I have kept them all these years. 

t

Memoir Monday, Dec 19, 1964

As I said, 1964 seemed like a gray, glum, ho-hum ending. December was not 'nice' most of the time. I swung from happy to gloomy--kind of dependng on what came in the mail or didn't. Christmas had ceased to be a big deal to me but I tried to keep it for the boys. Charlie Mike was 13  and Alex was 6. 

Dec 19, 1964

I woke up to see a gray sky still--felt like laying low all day but didn’t. Got up and did the chores and ate. Dad want to see Julio; I made the mash etc. and Charlie Mike went up for mail. I got nothing at all.  We did our chores and went directly to Dead Horse Ranch. We nearly got stuck but we’re real pleased with the hay. When we got home we unloaded and did the noon chores.  Had pancakes for lunch. I spent the afternoon writing the rest of Cim’s letter--it is 24 pages again. I took a break and went to town with Mom. No more mail. I had Dusty on my mind all day, even while writing to Cim. I know who I love…! I wrote Dusty this evening and then outlined my article and now plan to combine them into a single piece of slightly more length. I believe I’ve got something going for me here. We may get our Christmas tree tomorrow. I hope I hear from Dusty on Monday. I was disappointed today. What do I want for Christmas? Guess!  To see my love, of course. Those pictures really hit a soft spot in me. I can just see that smile and hear his voice. Oh, Darlin’ Dusty, I love you so. 

The Dead Horse Ranch had been owned by the Irey family who put it on the market and moved.  It was about two miles down the back road--on the east side of the river--from the pasture.  A woman named June Parsons, who we knew as she was a friend of Charley Bryant's,  and a Mexican man I only knew as Julio were the caretakers and managed things until it sold after a year or two. We bought a good bit of hay from Julio and the quality varied. I think this batch was mostly alfalfa and pretty good.

I had been working on an idea for one or more articles about training young horses and mules and basing the methods on their personality types. There were basically four types. The #1 was very spirited and often a bit flighty but generally willing to work and learn fairly quickly. #2 was slower and tended toward stubborness; when they gave up resisting they more or less just quit but then would show less 'get up and go'. #3 was usually traumatized and tended to be very unpredictable; good one day and wild as a march hare the next.  #4 was maybe the middle-of-the-road between the very high spirited and the more phlegmatic and perhaps the best  to become reliable and a good worker. The exact same methods did not work eqully well on all four types and I wanted to bring that out!

I  had received several letters from Dusty since he left the 10th of November but still tended to lose some confidence or assurance of our connection or bond in between them. I have to remind you this was stilll all very new to me.  I had almost no experience dating or having a 'boyfriend' in my teens and high school days and was still very lacking in confidence about my own feminine 'charms' and potential attractiveness. I felt grubby, dowdy and very much a misfit in all but my cowboy girl role. I had two photos I had taken of Dusty a few days before he left and had gotten them back from processing. (Today's instant pix are so quick!) They were a talisman of hope for me. They brought to mind our numerous conversations. And as of this date, that was all there was to remember. Words and smiles and some long, intense looks shared. A fairy tale romance? Not quite but I was hopeful for I'd never been in this spot before. 

Photos to illustrate: Three critters I would have used to illustrate the types. Tina--she was basically a #4 but leaned toward the #1. Very energtic and willing and she and I had  perfect rapport. Beano was a #2 but not too balky or stubborn. He was sold to a trail rider in Louisiana who loved him. Patrick was a #1 and very senstive but had a streak of 'common sense' as did most of the colts of our Appaloosa stud, Yavapai Chief. It took me about a month the next summer to have Pat working like a champ. And then Dusty-- in work clothes on a Friday afternoon, one of the times we talked and talked... It was Oct 30, 1964. 

 

Memoir Monday, Dec 12, 1964

It seems the weather was not very nice all this winter.  I recall more snow, lots of rain, a few super cold snaps and just generally Nature throwing crap in my direction to make caring for the animals harder and more difficult than usual. I had little to spend for Christmas so tried to make most of the gifts I gave. Drawings and other art, poem 'books' all hand printed and stapled together, some with pen or pencil drawings and of course sewing projects. I made Christma cards too for perhaps a dozen or more special friends.

Dec 12, 1964

I woke to a gray sky and said “Ugh.” Fed etc. Charlie Mike and I saddled up and rode out on Annie and Buzz. The latter was frisky. The sky cleared and it became a lovely day except for the wind. No important mail-sheesh. Dusty, I am mad at you! I led Lyno and Chief just briefly and then rode Leo. He was pretty high; he didn’t do anything but sure made me edgy for the ride. I was glad to quit. After lunch I went bike riding for a bit. Haven’t ridden in weeks but I still remember how. That’s nice. I patched saddle pads some, not a pet job but necessary. I guess I’ll mail Xmas envelopes to Dusty and Cimarron tomorrow and return the record album on Monday. Another ughy job in a way (the last.) After evening chores were done I made a poem book for Cim. I hope he likes it. That project plus washing my hair took all evening. It is now a very late bedtime. I must do some sewing in the next few days. Letters are off and out ‘til after Christmas except for my three “heroes” and any real emergencies. Tomorrow is bath night but I’ll get a start perhaps. Not much riding etc. tomorrow if I can help it. Don’t plan on it, anyway. I may go to church but doubt it. Will worry about that then. Better luck on mail next week. I should hear from Cim on Monday.

In two more days I would receive another specal letter from Dusty but waitng between them was very  hard. I normally rode up for the mail but Charlie Mike got it at times. The folks rarely did--much to my relief. Dusty had expressed concern that others might read his letters but I assured him that was not likely and to this very day, I don't think anyone else has ever read anything he wrote to me. So he began to write a little more freely and though still not really romantic or flowery, did express more of his feelings.  

As fall went into winter I was riding both Buzzie and Leo and they were coming along well. They both needed more training and 'wet saddle blankets' as Charley Bryant said, to complete making them into reliable mounts but it was progressing well. I still did not ride Chief yet but I surely could have. He was a well broke saddle horse, really. Lyno was a bit more edgy and she did buck a few times but mostly due to what I felt was provcocation. Although he in his big saddle was too heavy, Dad did ride her a few times and she was not happy.

I had joined the RCA record club even though I did not yet have a record player; that came soon, as another of Mom's trading stamp projects. RCA had a program to give one free record for each two bought. At times I would get too ambitious and order one or two and then be unable to pay for them so back they went. That was sad to me but I still built a fair collection, very eclectic too! The Ventures, to Chet Atkins, to classics and operetta, to Marty Robbins and Jim Reeves!

I still went to church with Evelyn (Graves/Morales) now and then. She lived several places other than with her parents up the street while she waited for Albert to get established in a permanent job so they could get married. Many times I wished I could live elsewhere too but that was not possible for lots of reasons.

I was still dithering over Baird (Cimarron) and Norm (Smoky) but edging closer toward stopping that correpsondence. Over halfway through my main Cowboy Girl stint now but I had no idea of the duration at this point. It looked to go on forever though the seeds of destruction were well planted and growing like weeds. I knew but mostly chose to ignore the omens. That familiar rut led on and I followed it. 

Again photos are scarce. I may have one or two of critters and one of me or Charlie Mike that fits in this era. Some are probably repeats but break up the text a bit. Okay, me holding one of the QH  fillies --looks like Lyno who was the light reddish dun one. Next is Lyno under saddle.  I was probably riding her by now. Charlie Mike 'play acting' though we often felt like we ought to go on strike but there was no ranch hand union to help us! Finally Charlie Mike with one of the bikes. He found parts (some may not have  been lost!) or got beat up bikes other kids dumped and I helped him cobble them together to be rideable. At times we had two but usually only one had tires that held air or was fairly safe with a sound chain, some brakes etc. Of course we could not afford a nice one.

 

,

Memoir Monday, Dec 5, 1964

The momentuous year of 1964 was nearing its end even as 2022 is today.  Life was so complicated for me at that point. This was before Dusty's existence and presence in my life became a major family issue --I think for the time being they assumed he was gone, out of sight and mind, and I'd soon find a new crush as I  had for many years. But this was so very different. Oh, the family rows would shake me up for a time and the enmeshment issues would jumble my private thoughts and assurances for a few days yet I always went back to being and thinking mostly "me" for the most part.

Dec 5, 1964

I got up at 7:00 or so and did the chores. We weren’t in a great hurry today, The folks went up to get mail and groceries and Charlie Mike and I got the truck ready to roll. I got a letter from Baird, a reply to my long letter, which I read and reread over and over again. It was a very kind, touching and understanding letter. He said it would be best to let Dusty go; yes, that is basically true and I’ve known it all along but actually doing it is something else again. Not sure how to respond. So we went to the pasture and did those chores and then went on to Camp Verde. That old Gemlin is a fink. He made us weigh the truck and then gave us all the moldy bales he could find. We felt like throwing a fit but couldn’t then. He doesn’t know what he is in for, though. Got home about 12:30. The folks took Alex to the parade while Charlie Mike and I unloaded the hay. That was a brutal chore and I was exhausted when we were through. We had to cut some wood and then did the evening chores, getting done early for a change. Then I wrote a letter to Dusty, the rough draft. I will wait for the reply to my last two before I finish and mail it. I am going on the theory that if you ask for the best in people, you will get it. I shall see if that works. So far he has never failed or disappointed me and I don’t think that he will now either. I am going to chance it, anyway. This is as close as I can come to doing the “right” thing. Then we got into a large family row and it was a doozy. But perhaps something was accomplished. I was all ready to take off and leave this very afternoon but I can never do that. So unless I find someone who will fit in, I shall be waiting forever. I do not know if they could ever accept Dusty for that matter. Norm? Possibly, maybe even probably--if I can. That no doubt remains to be seen. I love Dusty sincerely but perhaps I am too complex a person to belong wholly to any one. I certainly feel a real affection for LBC (Baird) and a considerable liking for Norm too.  No, I am in no hurry. That is best beyond a doubt. Tomorrow I may go to Maureen’s and must write at least a note to Baird. It is now 1:00 am and I truly must be off to bed.

All the usual 'stuff' went on of course. I had eight or more hours nearly every day of work that had to be accomplished. Though in school, Charlie Mike worked right with me all the free time he had. Getting hay at affordable prices was a big and constant concern. I despised this man in Camp Verde  and considered him a nasty, chisling old codger, which he was, but there were not that many small farms selling hay as winter approached. Beggars could not always be choosers. I agonized over feeding inferior fodder so many times. 

On December 3 I had gotten a second letter from Dusty, this one signed "All my Love, Dusty. It was the first time he used the L word and I was elated but also still a bit troubled, especially with the matter of Baird and Norm still "in the running" so to speak. The awareness that I really could not in clear conscience simply walk away from the folks and all the agonizing troubles sat heavy on my mind and heart. The eldest daughter's need to do what was right and required was an exacting master.

Exactly what I said to Dusty I cannot recall but I was not willing to go anywhere close to a dear John letter. Yes, the fact he was still legally married weighed heavily but I did not feel I was becoming a home wrecker or really doing wrong to care for him. The strict and unbending standards I had been hammered with for twenty one years would not release their influence yet but more and more I saw the fallacies and disconnects in what I was told to believe and do and what I saw happening everywhere I looked. My Dad had double standards out the gazoo! (Sadly both Charlie Mike and I find so many uncomfortable parallels in his behavior and that of certain political figures today.)

Photos that fit this time are scarce. I will see if I can find something not yet used more than once! Okay so Charlie Mike gets featured this time. He was my right hand helper and for a kid just 13 or so was responsible and worked very hard. Lord knows I appreciated all he did. His aid let me survive. The first one is with a donkey foal and probably in January 1964. The next he is holding Buzzie, my little sorrel QH mare with our big stock and hay truck in the background, probably '64 also. Then he is posed with the puppy we named Ringo--actually always his dog--but with the family until the early fall of 1967. I would guess this was maybe '63 --not sure. Looking back, this poor kid was almost treated like a step child from about the time he got over the broken leg  until he left home years later. I do not understand why at all. We both endured a lot but I know now he more than me in many ways. Thus the ragged and outgrown clothes etc.  No wonder he is bitter today, but not at me, for which I am very thankful.