Monday Memoir, May 13, 1966

Okay, Mother's Day and my dad's birthday were now over. Life went on with 'business as usual' such as the chores and normal routine while there were no huge issues or uproars.  I never was superstitious about Friday the 13th. In fact 3 and then 3+1=4 are two of my favorite numerals. 

Friday May 13, 1966 

Well, for a Friday the 13^th, this one wasn’t fatal. Got up early and went out to feed. The Boss was grouchy so I made myself scarce 'til he was gone about 9:30. Got two pens cleaned. Kitty came, nearly in tears, because her old man had said no to any horse deal.  It kinda shook me too but so it goes. I worked the two new little ponies and did the midday chores. No mail to speak of. I just felt like a pile of shit but that’s life. In the PM, I started to work on my print dress and top outfit some and when Charlie Mike got home, we ponied. I started Lyno to ponying. She did not care for it but she did okay. We got the home chores done and waited. Charlie Mike had to get ready for the FFA banquet so Mom and I drove to the pasture when the Boss finally got home. Didn’t see a sign of CDW (Dusty) today but someday… There are times when I nearly get discouraged but then I get over it. I just love him too much to forget, I suppose. We talked (damn it all) til about 10:30 and then fell wearily into bed.

At this time, dad aka The Boss, was gone a lot. He made many trips to Prescott to talk with attorneys, some to Phoenix trying to work deals with the "ranch" (the twenty acres we owned south of Bridgeport and were always trying to sell or trade for better facilities) and more. . If Mom went along it was usually to try to get loans or so she could be a witness to whatever he was trying to inveigle, con, force, weasel or whatever. Yes, those are pejorative words but mostly pretty accurate! At any rate, his absence was mostly a blessing to me as I could do my work without unwelcome criticism, advise or abrupt changes to the-plan-of-the-day or even the hour. I was sad and upset along with Kitty but she had no choice. Her DH was not into horses as she was and tired of the costs and drama I think. I am not sure what he did for his job.

 I had begun to train Lyno so she also could be used to exercise the colts and yearlings. Buzzie was now reliable enough even Charlie Mike could do leading with her and I mainly used Leo only to lead Chief  so an extra pony horse was very useful. She picked it up fairly quickly and mostly behaved well. She was more "spirited" and at times a bit unreliable compared to Buzzie and Leo but I never had any huge issues with her.  By now having really trained Buzzie and then Ginger and Patrick myself, I'd moved on with Leo and Lyno and soon had them performing well and capable of any ordinary task I asked of them. Not bragging, but I was a pretty good trainer!

I was still very anxious about Dusty and kept expecting to hear from him or have him appear suddenly like on a Friday afternoon.  It was some time before I did hear from or see him and then later in the summer I got disturbing news as to why he had been out of touch.  It was not "nearly" discouraged but very much really discouraged!  Keeping my faith that season was a challenge.

Ah, 'talk' and 'talks'--such innocuous words, like chores and a few others. They did not convey more than a slight bit of their impact, the trouble and grief they represented. Really talk implies an interchange involving more than one participant. For me and  Charlie Mike and even often for Mom it was just listening.  If any of us said anything it all, it was unusual. Of course we were expected to agree and even show enthusiasm about matters we seldom wanted to, even in an effort to mollify since it would come to back to bite us in the rear if we did and then failed to follow through. Mom was more likely to mollify and perhaps even intended to accept and obey, but Charlie Mike and I by now had our backs way up and were sick and tired of being harangued, put into corners where there was no good answer and having to bow our heads to harsh criticism and even insults. So a 'talk' was not anything I looked forward to or hoped for. How many meals were ruined for me to the point I was often too nauseous to do more than pick at my food. It sounds like I am whining, no? Maybe I am or was, but it was hard when I lived it.

Photos--you who read often have seen most of these over and over. But as I think it was Alice said in one of Lewis's tales, a book without pictures is hardly appealing! So I put in the eye candy, repeats or not. First Charlie Mike; did he ever smile in those years? Not much. Then Alex on Leo. He was a little anxious but I knew the horse was trustworthy. (Disregard date; wrong!)   Me with the two new fillies as I featured last time. That path behind me is the one we used to go up and down. The house is visible between the two large mesquites and it gives an idea of the distance we carried feed, water etc. Guessing about 200 yards.   Then Lyno under saddle--not very spiky-eared! And last Buzzie, Ginger and Lyno, up the canyon the previous summer before Ginger was sold.