Memoir Monday, Sept 20, 1961

Senior year, just coasting along in many respects. School was only the necessary hours each day plus the bus rides up to Jerome and back. The rest of each 24 allowed some meals and sleeping, occasional homework, plenty of cowboy girl chores and keeping track of my pen pals. 

Sep 20, 1961

Hello. Even today wasn’t a bad day, as days go, so I guess I’m lucky. After seeing quite a few proofs I’m still convinced mine are the best..(Senior pix) Anita’s are good (she called mine ‘suave’) Everyone  liked them though. I got away fairly early. The morning classes slipped by quickly. ‘Reen and I talked during noon as usual. We inked our abstract series. Miss Mahoney made me ruin my 4^th one. It was a pretty series of lines which I messed when I redid it adding solidness. 

I had my work cut out for me this afternoon. We had nearly all our stock in the dairy. Rounding up was a job but I  managed, with Dad’s shouted “encouragement”. I’m getting in the habit of letting evenings slip buy without my accomplishing anything. That will never do. 

I got a letter from Al. He said he thought we were “sincere, wonderful people,” and  he thought he was going to like it at Pollard’s. “Gone With the Wind" is on at the drive-in. I’d sell my saddle to go see it. Oh well, maybe I will get another chance sometime. If I was on ‘friendly’ terms with some certain characters…  Well, that’s it. I’ve got to say adios here.

I had been very unhappy with the regular school photos a couple of weeks earlier and did not buy a one but I had hopes the Senior photos would be somewhat better. I was actually delighted with mine, about the only time I really liked any of my photographs. I was often caught with my ugly glasses on and disliked how my two front teeth overlapped a bit and that was just part of the things I was displeased with. I often thought if I look like that I will just give up! But for once I could be happy. Today I still can appreciate although I looked so very young and innocent, almost unformed. In many ways I cannot identify with that girl at all. That was just one of the bright spots of my senior year and there were several more; in most ways it was my best year of school, high school for sure,  and my best year for much of my young adult life. 

My friend Maureen Jewell and I had art class together. The teacher, Miss Mahoney, was kind of an odd little person, apparently a single mom with a little boy who I think was named Max. I enjoyed the class but she gave us some weird projects at times, a few of which frustrated me. I recall this was a panel of four blocks with different type of lines and shapes, mostly done in black ink with a bit of color to highlight or elaborate. I used inks in yellow and a sort of magenta. I think I have it somewhere, probably in a large case or portfolio along with many other photos, posters etc. I admit--I kept way too much and still have an inordinate amount of souvenirs and junque!

We had an ongoing issue with many of the animals we had at the pasture,  or as Charley Bryant called it, the allotment (I think that is an old ranch/cowboy term for leased graze) getting into Tavasci's area right next door. The fence was not too bad but the cattle guard where the road crossed from one into the other was often filled in to where the dirt was almost level  with the rails. A canny mule would walk right across and many did. Tavascis  usually had a mare or two in their side and even though we had mares too, mules like to go follow or make up to mares. So off they went and we had to gather them and get them on our side. Yes, a frequent job for me. I would get torqued since Dad would be hollering directions at me but I was the one on one of the mares trying to collect the strays and drive them home. He might not see what I was seeing or agree with whatever I was doing and would yell and cuss for what he perceived as errors in my effort.  Almost the story of my life in those days. 

Al was Alfred Rydell, a pen pal who had been the Navy and just got out to go to work for Art Pollard, down at Sonoita in Santa Cruz County. Pollard had racing Quarter Horses. Al was a Texan and thought that would be cool. Turned out he did not stay long and ended up going back to the  Navy but at this point he had come to meet me briefly a couple of weeks before and returned a few days later driving one of the Pollard pickups for a short visit. I was iffy--was he Prince Charming or just another toad?   

As for "Gone With The Wind",  I did see the movie several times later on but at this point had only read the book a time or three. The family library had a hardback edition with still photos from the actual movie and I was enthralled, styled myself a modern day Scarlet O'Hara and thought Clark Gable was the epitome of cool. Had I gone to the drive in with one of my local "heroes," I would probably not have seen much of the movie. ;-) . But that was about as likely as the sun rising over Mingus the next morning. Date was a four letter word in my parents' rules and so I didn't.  

For spits and giggles,  a snapshot of Al with his sister's little boy and my senior portrait.  He as nice looking--about 6'2" or so with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile but actually really a stuffy sort of guy. After the visit I walked out to the truck with him and he shook hands in saying goodbye?!?