This has been going on weekly since a bit before the holidays last year. After wading through some 52+ Memoir Mondays, do any of you want to keep on? I suppose I can as it is not a really taxing project but some of them seem so boring to me! It is a bit harder now to find new photos to illustrate some of the narratives too but again, none of this is really 'new' to me.. Like been there and done that, long ago and often far away,but ... So shout out if you are feeling 'been there and done' that too and I will try to find some other area to address so as to keep my blog alive. For now here is two days after Christmas in 1960, my second effort at the third year of high school.
Dec 27, 1960
Well maybe I do have quite a bit to write today—different from what I intended no doubt, but I wasn’t bored much. I decided to go to Flagstaff after all. I got nine items in the mail. A Christmas card from ‘renn, five new letters and replies from Judy Crouch, a Texas gal and Warren Burdett, a sailor from California. He sent some pictures. He is not a bad looking guy.. At least I had something to keep me busy while the folks visited the friendly loan company. We came down the new Black Canyon Highway which was just recently completed. It is a very pretty scenic drive and quite enjoyable. We stopped along the way and picked up a sizable load of wood. We heard this morning that there is a storm coming and of course we don’t want to be cold. I wrote five letters tonight. If I don’t get some money I’ll never catch up on writing. I keep getting new ones. That’s what gets me—and at least half the letters sound real nice. I’ve gone over the eighty mark now When will it end? I really don’t know. Well it is fun anyway. If I had time and the money I would answer every single letter I get but I just plain cannot afford that. I’ve spent over $2.00 on postage already. Well if I narrow down to about fifteen permanent pen pals I guess it will be worth it. At least I am getting to choose from a real wide range. I dreamed about the “Rifleman” last night—he was big as real and natural too. I’ve hear dreams are almost always in black and white but sometimes I dream in color too. Not always but sometimes. Well it is 10:00 PM. I guess I’ve got to call it quits pronto and sack in for the night. There’ll be another busy day tomorrow. Darn—my vacation is more than half over already. What am I going to do? I’ll simply die when I have to go back to school. I’ve got to fix my hair yet and also study my chem. Ooooo, I think I’ll quit! Love ya, G
I didn't mention the weather here but if memory serves it was colder and often more rain and snow 60 years ago than it is today.Winter break ran from a few days before Christmas through the day after New Year's generally. December 27th was a Tuesday then.
I was deep into the still-new pen pal routine at this point and it was still exciting to open the mail box and pull out a bunch of new letters. I never knew when one would turn out to be "someone special." A few of the guys did-- for awhile-- and a few of the girls have stayed friends for many, many years. .
I was no longer regularly watching the TV westerns but actually kept a crush of sorts on Chuck Connors for several more years. Was that dream in color? I have no idea but I do often have parts of dreams in color even today. They'er like someone photoshopped a mix-up!
The new stretch of I-17 from the Verde River at Camp Verde up to Flagstaff was very scenic. It still is and has changed very little except in places along the roadside over the many years. I came down it in September in a fierce rainstorm. Ordinarily I enjoy driving it and the grades and curves do not faze me as I learned to drive on mountain roads such as 89A over Mingus. That lat trip it was slick though and mostly poor and limited visibility plus dodging the semis and motor homes made it an adventure. Of course in 1960 I was not driving and I am sure my Dad was at the wheel of our white Ford pickup.
Chemistry was my nemesis that year. Parts I had no trouble with but the formulas and valances gave me no end of grief. I just never quite got a sound understanding of how all that worked. I am sure Mr Clark did his best to make it clear to me and the other students but some of us were just dense or dunce I expect, me included! He was a good teacher IMO but a bit cantankerous at times!
It had been a welcome respite to go back to school after "the Mule Year" that I took off but I also was bored a lot and fretted about being locked up in a virtual juzgado so many hours a week.It was like a job in many ways, and I had to get used to that a few years later and learn how to fit what I wanted to do around the edges of what I had to do to afford even a reasonable life style.I soon found being grown up was not all it was cracked up to be. Sadly there were no other options!
For spits and giggles, two of me in this era. I honestly cannot believe I was ever that young!!! I think the first was my drop-out year school pic and the next after I had started back but both undated. I seldom smiled in photos, BTW. Did not like my teeth.
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