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!

Monday, March 1, 2021

Memoir Monday March 1, 1960

March 1, 1960, Tuesday 
Another day of this will drive us all insane. It wasn’t as bad outside as yesterday but the scattered showers kept us from getting outside and working. I kept busy on odds and ends and I did the usual chores. Charlie Mike and I went up to the library. I got to watch “The Rifleman. It was a good show tonight and reminded me just how much I’d like to meet a man like Lucas McCain. I was just born seventy five years too late but that can’t be helped I guess. Didn’t see Blondie today. He is a poor substitute for the kind of man I want but you’ve got to have somebody. Adios, Gaye 

This was the spring when I was out of school. I came to hate days when the weather was ugly and I could not get out and ride--that was a chance to be by myself, maybe see someone "interesting" (as in male over 15 and under 75!) and  avoid any lectures or boring long "talks" generally about what I should and should not do and how to do it and all that. My dad was a master of overkill on this! Ugh!! The regular feeding and stock care chores did have to be done every day and in cold, wet, muddy or windy times were not at all pleasant. 

I was certainly suffering with my "addiction to romance"  at this point and was frustrated with having little to no social life or even much in the way of substitutes. So I watched TV westerns, started writing to pen pals and read lots of novels! Hobbies like sewing, drawing and writing my early efforts at fiction and poetry helped fill the time. A prior essay on the 'addiction' is here: https://deirdre-fourds.blogspot.com/2019/01/memoir-monday-addicted-to-romance.html

Being a "cowboy girl" was fun in some ways but it was so far out of step with where the rest of the world was going at this point. That made it easy to feel like a misfit, often sorry for myself, and a bit mistreated by life in general. Of course that is a typical teenage thing, but from about eighth grade on, I was just not anything like my schoolmates and contemporaries and felt I had so little in common with them. Our family was basically poor and our lifestyle miles away from anything 'average' or typical. I often felt friendless, ignored or invisible, and believed for sure those in my age group were mostly laughing at me. 

In reality most were not, if they even thought of me at all, but at that time I'd heard or overheard just enough snarky comments to make me somewhat standoffish. I was always very shy anyway and the situation exacerbated that. You have to be a friend to have one; I did have a few but with many people I had no idea how to approach them or really why I might need or want to. Because of that, any boyfriends were mostly a bit older and girlfriends younger. "Blondie" was another nickname for one of my crushes at the time. 

Some pix from the era:  First is me, probably fall 59 before I quit school. Next is me as the typical cowboy girl I was most of the time at home and when not in school.  Three is the first batch of mules we got that were the ultimate cause of my quitting school. Fourth is Charlie Mike, then about nine, showing how gentle Beano was, one of the mules we acquired in the 59-60 period. Beano was sold to a trail riding lady in Louisiana and shipped there by rail!






No comments:

Post a Comment