Memoir Monday, July 19, 1961

 A day --a routine one--in the life of a summer cowboy girl between last two years of high school. 

July 19, 1961, Wed

I guess it’s a wonder I could do anything after last night. I don’t think I really slept much. I rode Trix out as usual and was she ever goofy. Sometimes I could just murder the little idiot. I spent the better part of the day doing nothing. I only got one letter today; the only one I really wanted so why gripe? Dear ole Wayne; he’s such a nut. I rode Tina out this evening, doctored eyes, dug out the ditch etc. Tomorrow guess I’ll go to Cottonwood. I just missed George this morning. He went up the road ahead of me in his big truck which was fresh washed and shiny. I’ll have to go see him tomorrow. I haven’t been over there for several weeks. CMike and I took our usual evening walk, saw no one and had no adventures. The time goes quickly and yet slowly. I was up to Evelyn’s this afternoon. She did not know much exciting news. It seems like no one feels good any more. I am not enjoying my ‘vacation’ much. I know we’ll probably work like wild when Dad gets back. Oh, I hope we go to Colorado. I don’t dare hope though. Darn, I’m flat lonesome tonight.

Remembering that time. Okay, Dad had gone to Colorado, one of many 'ranch hunting' trips that never panned out. I was frustrated with so many things where we were and really hoped to relocate but it was not in the cards. For one thing we did not have the necesasry lucre to make it happen in any easy or normal way and wheeling-dealing only goes so far.  Pie in the sky is a poor dessert. 

Trix was a favorite little mule I rode a lot that I have mentioned before. She was black with a white muzzle and had a slightly concave face as if her mama may have been an Arabian mare. An odd fact about female mules is although they are 99% sterile--the odd mix of genetics makes for some glitches--they do come into season like equine mares and can get very nervous, irritable and quirky. We discussed spaying with a vet freind and never tried it but I would bet it would help. He had done it with some Thoroughbred racing/jumping mares with good results.  Tina of course was my beloved favorite mare that was with me for ten years. 

George was just a friend, an older guy who drove a cement truck. He had worked with mules some as a  kid and we talked about them off and on. No flirtation or really crush on my part and I am sure not on his!! It was just cool to have some friends and he was a really nice guy. 

Inclement weather or not,  the chores went on and I waded thru a lot of muck, struggling to keep hay dry and edible, cleaning pens and such and of course Charlie Mike was my assistant. I was eighteen then so he was ten. We fussed some; I was a bossy 'eldest daughter' big sis but we managed to get along most of the time and he was a huge help to me especially when out of school. As things got rougher, we relied on each other so much-still do really. A ditch that drained out of the end of Peck's Lake (all area now Tavasci Marsh) provided water to a main corral where critters were kept. If it flooded and silted up I had to clean it to give them a place to drink. Never had a good shovel handy, DTBL. Digging by hand in soupy mud--yuck!

Other than a few pen pals I was kind of between crushes then and certainly did not have a 'boy friend' so yes, I was lonely and very much wished for some congenial male companionship. That was a long time coming. 

Really no good pix so a rerun of Trix and Tina will have to suffice. First Trixie with Dad. That was my saddle though. And then me with Tina, a couple of years earlier. She got less leggy as she aged but was alway tall and lean, Thoroughbred look really. She was fast but also as sure footed as a mule in the rough country. Just an all around fine animal and lovely disposition as well. Will always miss her...