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, August 27, 2023

Monday Memoir, Aug 28, 1965

 August was just about gone. Summers always seemed to go fast.  One year later I was on the brink of the huge change when I morphed from cowboy girl to coed and enrolled at NAU but at this time I had no clue that was actually going to happen. The dream existed but its reality was dim and distant. My sights were not nearly fixed that far ahead. 

Aug 28, 1965 Sat

Got up early after a restless night of dreaming and worrying about Dusty. I fed hastily and ran over to the outfit to be sure they were gone. They were. Charlie Mike and I rode out on Annie and Buzz. A.O.K. The same three are still gone.  We must find them soon. We led Bat and Wowie on the east side of the river up to where you overlook the dam . Seemed incredible that we were there yesterday. I rode out and Charlie Mike did the noon chores. I was in by 1:30.  After lunch I wrote poetry, took a 1½ hour nap and wrote Judy. It showered a little but I rode out anyway. Too ornery to give in, and I didn’t get rained on. We were done nice and early for a change. I walked the dog after supper alone and checked to see that Dusty’s lights were on. Then I came in and wrote him a letter.  I have to get on with some other projects soon. I’m letting too many things go lately. That will never do.  I just love someone too much. It still seems unreal but the acrid scent of creosote and the aroma of cigar smoke bring so many memories now.  I can feel the pressure of his arms around me and the touch of warm moist lips nibbling at my neck and shoulder or clinging to mine and a heavy nose rubbing mine or nuzzling against my cheek. Oh, it’s real all right. The magic summer came at last--and goes too fast. But September and October are good for Taurean’s love affairs too and also December.

The previous afternoon Charlie Mike and I had met Dusty and Johnny at the "swimming hole", up where the dam diverted river water into the feed for Peck's Lake. I  did not swim at all --still cannot--and I don't think Charlie Mike did either so we waded in the shallows. Dusty and Johnny made it look so easy and fun that I hated my huge phobia about water. There was no way although I wanted to.  Dusty took his hat off to go in the water--he wore a cowboy hat any time he did not have his white safety helmet on I think. Rarely went bare headed anyway. We were all kind of kidding around. I got the hat and put it on. He did not notice for awhile and when he did I scampered off! He was still barefooted and that white sand was doggone hot. I relented fairly quickly and took it back but then worried that he was angry or upset. They had to leave and we did too since chore time was coming soon, so we all parted without much more being said and I worried about it. I guess I should have known better. He was not put out but I was still getting used to his ways and general calm attitude . And I was still too used to frequent temper fits over petty things.

Of course the work went on unabated. Charlie Mike and I both felt the folks were surly or grim when we went off for a bit on what was essentially our free time, but out of sight and out of 'control'. Not a lot was usually said but the orders would be more brusque than usual and a few extra duties or tasks often thrown in. 

Charlie Mike was going to start high school early in September and in some ways then got a little more freedom than I had ever been given but still did not have the funds, transportation or permission for  much of a social life. He did get involved with FFA and went to meetings out of school hours and we both attended most of the home football games but that was about the extent of it.  Of course I had to pick up more of the work then but he still pitched in very well afternoons and weekends. Without his help I would have been way up shit creek! It really was not a one person job!

At this stage, we were going into the semi-final year when everything was slip-sliding into worse conditions. Sadly most of the problems were self-created and I have to lay that squarely on my male parent. He could have made changes and tried different directions but he never would so all of us paid a hard price in the end. I still struggle to understand and then to forgive. It is not easy in either case.

Photos--contrasting scenes from the past. The old Clarkdale grade school. Past those trees was the dirt ball field where baseball games were played most  summer evenings. There was Little League and some adult amateur leagues that played many nights when we went to the games. Next is the dam on the Verde as it looked about 2015. I think that area has changed much more with floods the last few years. Then the spur track where they used to park work trains, mostly idle now with the VV Scenic RR running it all. And finally, the dam area as it was in 1965-66. 






 

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