Monday Memoir, Aug 7, 1965

August 1965 was a good and also challenging month for me. Really getting more intimately acquainted with Dusty was almost incredible and I learned and grew a great deal with that. Things at home and with my current "job", not so much. If one can call my basically involuntary servitude a job --no, I had chosen the role in many ways and stuck it out through some very rough times so it was voluntary. In retrospect, I accept and believe it was meant to be and probably part of the lessons and kiln-style 'firing' that my spirit had planned and chosen before it came to this life. 

A small notice for readers: The corresponding dates in the pattern I follow for the memoirs fall on Saturdays in 1965. Many major things happened on other days in this and a few more months. Rather than dump in a dozen or two 'bridges', I will add an occasional short explanation.  If you truly want to follow all of  "The Unfinished Story" as it has finally been transcribed by the romance writer persona in a 'book' of about 61,000 words-- shorter novel length by comparison-- you can contact me and I will provide a .doc file. 

Aug 7, 1965  Sat

 Got up about my usual hour and did my chores briskly. We took Chief out this morning and did the chores and bred Rita. Got back at 10:30. I had a letter from Kathy and my RCAV bill. Then I had  a "nice encouraging” talk for two hours. Someday I’ll have to shock the hell out of everyone by telling them what I really want. Charlie Mike rode out and I did the noon chores. Read about B&B work on the L&N and then took a nap. It rained a little in the afternoon but Charlie Mike and I were able to ride out. We led Buzz along for exercise. Got through with the chores and eating fairly early and took Ringo for a walk. He learns to “lead” fairly well really. Somehow the lights in Dusty’s camp car keep me from being quite so lonesome. They prove that he’ll be back tomorrow night or Monday morning . I have asked myself if I am sure I want him. It seems incredible but I am really fighting for this now. A year ago I would not have believed it. I had to wait a long time, but is it not worth it? Now I ask only for a bit more. I love you, Dusty, with all my heart.

During the past week, I'd spent  some 'quality time' with Dusty and it meant a lot. We usually met at dusk after supper and drove around some. Charlie Mike went with us; we then  came back and parked down near what was then the Standard Oil Bulk Plant, and to give us a bit of privacy, Charlie Mike went off up the canyon and waited for me. Dusty was always very kind and good to Charlie Mike, treating him like something between a son and a brother.That in itself told me a lot about the man he was.

The L&N (Louisville and Nashville) was our Grandpa Witt's railroad from which by now he had retired but he encouraged Charlie Mike's interest in railroading and gently nudged him toward a career there. He either sent  copies often or even gave us a subscription to the RR's magazine,.Ringo was the puppy we'd kept from the litter born the prior year and was Charlie Mike's dog though I liked him too. I'd  now call it leash training but thought in equine terms then!

I'm  not sure which critters we were riding at this time.And  I am not sure why I led Buzzie instead of riding her and suspect it was Annie or Prez and another mule or another of the young horses. For a short time the work was going along fairly well with no huge issues, blow-ups or drama. Enjoy it while it lasts as that was not the common state. Earlier in the week I convinced Dusty to drive out the River Road and go to the pasture with us so he could see his 'namesake',  my little Dusty colt. He rode Prez across the last flats and back later. I was too exciting trying to photograph the two "Dustys" together and double exposed two pictures. Always regretted that as they could not be sorted out but they would have been so special. That was a flaw in simple old snapshot cameras! 

So as always a few photos.  A closeup of Dusty on Prez,  MoonSpinner in the  background.This was the end of the River Road, above the"fishing hole" on the river. One of the spoiled pictures--saved them even though they were messed up. And another shot of Dusty on Prez. He was not a cowboy but always dreamed of owning a ranch and had become very western despite growing up in upstate New York.  This was at the NW corner of the pasture at the gate I usually entered by. That big grove of Cottonwoods is still mostly there. .