Another week of swimming in quicksand or wading in a very wet corral. Everything felt a bit futile, very dull and nothing easy at all. Well, that is part of growing up and getting accustomed to the real world, perhaps. I had admitted to living in dreams and fantasy for too long but one managed very little progress or success that way. I was looking for a path, a way, even a road sign to show me where I needed to go. The things I had relied on were now far behind and I knew there had been a fork--but was I on a genuine trail or simply lost in a desert of ragged rocks, prickly shrubs and cacti?
November 11, 1968 Monday
It in no way seems like Monday, but it is. I'd be in no mood for school so its a good thin that it is a holiday. Yesterdday we wentto Jeome. We really had a fun toime, too. First we hiked up abpve teh pit. Then it was down to and through Douglas Mansion, now a museum. A snack and the candy shop and a prowl thrugh the mine museum and the junk shops followed by a walk up Sunshine Hill where now the Sleeps and Duke and Dorothy live in solitary squalor. But the view is still magnificent. We dined at The Chinaman's --ironically always called The English Kitchen--and then waited for the bus which finally showed up about 8:30 with Old Louie at the wheel. He retires the 27th, he said. We were the only passengers and talked all the way. It was really a neat and a good little vacation.
This afternoon we are going to go see The Sound of Muisic. I've seen it before but it is a good movie. I washedmy hair this morning to get that out of the way. The early show starts at 4:30 so we will probably be there all evening if we watch it twice.
Further comments: Sunday was the day Mary took the picture of me up on Sunshine Hill, right where the stairs to my once front door had begun. Almost all the houses had been moved away and the hill looked almost bare and a bit sad. Still it was good to get out and walk, to see familiar things in different ways and then ride back to Flagstaff with Old Louie on one of his last runs. In a way I tied up a few loose ends there. It was sad but also a closure of sorts. I wrote about it then in a blithe and light way; maybe I preferred to keep that aspect as my record. It was an effort to get jerked out of my doldrums, anyway!! And to some degree it worked.
A few pertient photos? First the one on Sunshine Hill. I was standing about at the end of the oil tank in the final shot. Second a house being moved from the area. They were cut off their light foundation, jacked up and loaded on big trailers to go off down the hill to many different places. (That was not my photo; I was not there at the time that happened.) I do not think this was ours, small differences, but they were all similar. And last, the actual house back in the early 1950s. It was #164 and the streets were not named that I recall. It seems they just rambled and twisted around among the houses! Could I draw a map? Not very accurately!
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