Memoir Monday April 1, 1966

 March kind of went out like a lion at my house. Will discuss in my comments below. From that point things went down hill most of the month with more equine sickness and losses and dismal days... I'm ready to throw that book across the room. Are y'all too?  I mean a happy ending looks very unlikely and who can believe these endless 'perils of Pauline' situations. Where is the mustachioed villain with the rope and those railroad tracks with the old steamer coming? Living a melodrama sucked, big time.

April 1, 1966 Friday

 Well, guess today really wasn’t bad, all considered. Got up after a semi-sleepless night and fed. I felt pretty rough. My left ear feels real odd, like there is a pressure-bubble in it and my whole face and head aches like hell. But…it doesn’t matter. I had to apologize to the Boss before he’d apologize to me. And I got a fair long talking to but it wasn’t too drastic. I really didn’t let it bug me. Mom and I drove out to feed about 10:00. When we came back I did midday chores a little early and went up for mail. I got my ordered records at last. Wish they’d had the Eddy Arnold one. I ate lunch and took a good shower and then it was time to go to the dentist. I wore my blue peasant outfit. I think it is so cute; I’m proud to wear it.  Dr Joe P wouldn’t work on me til my lip heals even more--nuts. Mom and I went shopping some and came home. Mrs. Reilly came by while I was resting. I didn’t talk to her. We did our evening chores etc and now another day draws to a close. I am playing records peacefully and am about ready for bed. So far Eve’s curse has not struck or painlessly if it has. I was a little disappointed not to hear from Dusty. It’s been two weeks now.  Actually I won nearly every point this morning--even a semi-consent on Dusty--so I haven’t a thing to squeak about. I will probably go to college this fall and have three years to work and stay. Then I’m free and I’ll marry him as he should have things settled by then too. All I have to do meanwhile is keep my peace, hold my tongue and make out like studying horses etc. Guess I can be a fat cat same as the next guy. I threw my last fit yesterday. No lie, man. It doesn’t win you one g-damn thing. I am likely to have a weak ear permanently, I think. That’s what I got for throwing a fit. Oh hell, sometimes you just can’t win

The day before, Charlie Mike and I had gone riding on the two red mares searching above Peck's Lake for several missing mules. When we got home we found the old ice box by the tack barn turned over with a dozen steel bars sticking into it at odd angles. For the most part we had used it to store some of our stuff. Most of my sun-colored glass collection had been in or on top of it. That glass was now in shattered  shards and scattered all over the yard. It seems like The Boss had totally lost it and gone on a rampage. Charlie Mike says it was over his liquor label collection but I do not know. Still, I was shattered by the loss of my treasures and pitched one hissy fit. I screamed at my father and said I hated him. He came over to me but not to apologize. Instead he slapped me hard across the face twice, once over my left ear.  If I could have gotten into anyone's car right then I would have left with no question! The blows left me with a bad headache and a bubbly, half deaf ear for awhile. I reclaimed a couple of pieces of my glass and eventually collected more but many were irretrievably gone and are missed to this day.

So the next day dawned as they do and life went on. It was a kind of April Fool's bad joke but not the worst. Something in me had shifted -- a mixture of attitude, determination, intent and even acceptance perhaps.  As for winning a point on Dusty, I really do not remember that or what it might possibly have been.  There was preliminary acceptance that I might start college in the fall, at least, and from that small concession, matters did move forward, slow and lurching, but they moved. As for never throwing a fit again, I almost kept that intention. I became much more self-contained and restrained than I had been--and I was normally not all that demonstrative of negative thoughts and feelings anyway. Now they were completely walled inside and not revealed. I gave very few outward signs from that day onward. I guess I am often thought or appear cold and unfeeling because of that restraint.  It's all there, just not revealed. I no longer could, really. 

What else is there to say or show?  It was what it was and there are only a couple of  suitable photos.  First is a shot of me and Charlie Mike in the back yard. Beside and behind him is that icebox. Nothing on top of it right then. This was about a year earlier I believe. Then two recent pix of my glass. The heavier goblet may have been part of my collection; it is glued and missing some pieces. The rest I have added over the intervening years. In our 32 years of treks,  Jim and I went to many old mines and ghost town sites and I found several things. It is harder to discover any now as too many others have been there too.