Welcome to my World

Welcome to the domain different--to paraphrase from New Mexico's capital city of Santa Fe which bills itself "The City Different." Perhaps this space is not completely unique but my world shapes what I write as well as many other facets of my life. The four Ds figure prominently but there are many other things as well. Here you will learn what makes me tick, what thrills and inspires me, experiences that impact my life and many other antidotes, vignettes and journal notes that set the paradigm for Dierdre O'Dare and her alter ego Gwynn Morgan and the fiction and poetry they write. I sell nothing here--just share with friends and others who may wander in. There will be pictures, poems, observations, rants on occasion and sometimes even jokes. Welcome to our world!

Sunday, May 26, 2024

Monday Memoir, May 27, 1966

May had been mostly mild, only a few issues which occurred on dates I did not cover. They may pop up in June which will otherwise be skimpy for reasons to be explained later. Sometimes lack of clairvoyance or foreknowledge is a blessing...

May 27, 1966, Friday

Maybe next Friday I can see somebody off.  Got up and fed etc. Really had the glooms hanging over me and couldn’t shake them. If I aren’t a pie-headed mess. When we got back from the pasture I got the mail on Leo and we shod him in front. It was a lengthy task. He was a good boy about it all but it was still a job. Finally got that done. Alex is out of school now and promoted to 2nd grade. Gee thrill. I rested awhile until Charlie Mike came. We then went on a short hike and found some ’45 and ‘51 date nails which were new to his collection. I saddled Buzzie and led the new fillies briefly. Chief was apparently sick so I  had to pony him out with Leo. Mom and Charlie Mike did the pasture chores and made a mess of it. Well, hell if I care. Finally put Chief away just before a late supper. As I rode over by the outfit track, it still kind of shakes me up to see where 'Spinner parked, 193680 sat etc. It seems rather unreal at times now, like I just invented it all for a good day dream. I could lose myself in a private world all too easily. That would never do, though.  Charlie Mike has about got him a girlfriend, I think Helen Jenson really likes him. He still can’t forget Twyla though. She’s a cat, I’m sure, but a Santa Fe girl cat. I’m an SF girl too; I’m C...W...'s girl… Wonder if they’ll come in next week? I might get a letter tomorrow but won’t expect one. I’ll not write for awhile now ‘til I see if they come. I’m scared to hope too hard. I’ve lost too much, too often... 

I was destined to be disappointed yet again for at least awhile more, actually for the rest of this long hard summer. As I share it,  I will try not to be maudlin, self-pitying and pathetic, or too obviously angry though all such emotions were part of it. These weeks were the final payments on my ransom, I think. Nothing worthwhile comes easy or even cheap. If it does, we do not value it enough.

Date nails? Although they have not been used for a long time, railroad ties once had a special short nail set in them with a number on the head which showed when it left the factory. They became a common collectible for rail fans. Charlie's old board still hangs in the great room. I may snap a photo.  I still have a 23 and a 43 saved away with souvenirs somewhere. 

We should have been fully over the colic and other illnesses but apparently Chief had a slight relapse. In typical manner, I kept him up and going until the distress passed.  It didn't matter where we went as I led him so a circle of lower town was one route. That went by the tracks and the depot. B&B 6 had been gone over two months now; no wonder it began to feel imaginary or like a dream. The present was so uninspiring I did tend to day dream, probably too much. 

I dimly recall Helen Jenson as a neighborhood girl about 8th grade age who seemed to get a crush on Charlie. He really was not very interested. And he did still remember and occasionally communicate with Twyla Andreski, his red-headed eighth grade girlfriend. He was  a freshman the 65-66 school year. 

We had heard a rumor B&B 6 would be coming back to Clarkdale by summer and I wanted so much to believe, to hope. Expectations proved fruitless as that never happened. I did not give up for awhile.  I had to have something, unreal or not, too look forward to. Soon there was little enough. June, July and August 1966 could be described as trying times...

A few photos: First: Probably not the one but similar to the bunk car Twyla's family occupied. Second a piece of equipment similar to the crane Twyla's father operated. Third the spur track where B&B 6 parked, empty after they were gone.  And last, Charlie's date nail board currently hung in our house. 








 


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