Memoir Monday, Oct 18, 1961

Finally my senior year! In most ways it was the happiest time I had in school except maybe sixth grade down a Willard in Bridgeport.  I really did not mind going to school very much. 

Oct 18, 1961 Wed

Today was a good day, I guess. I got up, dressed etc. I was a little earlier than sometimes. The bus seemed to be slow. Once in school the morning passed quickly. I worked in study hall, extraordinary for me. English and Civics were about ordinary. At noon ‘Reen and I talked about everything from horses to whores. We really do talk about everything. We don’t try to change each other’s opinions. That’s why we get along so well. The afternoon really hurried by. In Journalism I’m always busy. That’s just the way it is. Then homeward bound. Guess what, my pictures came. I am so pleased with them. For once I looked like my ‘lovely self’. I shall get vain! I rode Ruby out. She didn’t want to cross the Verde River bridge but my ‘friend billy’ made up her mind in the other direction. The chores aren’t too difficult anymore. I’ve sent off for my small photos all ready. I’m in a hurry to get them so I can give them to people. I’m so proud of them!  Wrote Dee. I’m rather tired of him but… Dad gave me 64 cents and I had only asked for a dime—see what being sweet does for you? Well, I’ll go to bed feeling happy. I need to do that now and then. 

Of course there were still chores.  Mom did the morning feeding for me sometimes, a bit more in the spring as I was heading down the final stretch and hoping to graduate with honors etc. That gave me  a little more time to dress and get ready since I did not have to jump into dirty work clothes, do the chores, and then rush to change and be ready to go catch the bus. Anyway this day I am not sure but sounds that way. 

It was a novelty to study in study hall--I often read a book, wrote letters or just fiddled around. I really did not have any 'hard' classes this year. Math and Science were always the most challenging for me but I had completed all the required ones.  I was on the way to becoming the editor for The Mingus Spirit. For now, Jean was editor--last name? draw a blank--anyway she quit and I took over before the 2nd semester I think.  At this point I was writing several articles for each issue and typing part of the stencils.

Maureen Jewell had come to Mingus the prior spring and we got to be good friends since she was into horses and cowboy stuff too. If we were both there, we almost always ate lunch together, both brown bagging. When I was at the recent reunion, I  meant to get a photo of the window ledge where we sat in decent weather but I missed that  It was on the ground floor, north west corner anyway. 

And my ordered senior pictures came. I was so used to having ghastly, ugly, awful pictures that I totally hated, so it was nearly a miracle to get some I liked enough to want to share. I could only afford about three or four 5x7 prints of my favorite pose but I sent one off to a place that would do wallet size copies--I  think they said they would not do copyrighted which most school photos were, but they did do mine! Of course the copies were to go mostly to my favorite pen pals. 

I know  I mentioned little Ruby before-she was a very petite, dainty little mule and the prettiest deep red color with a white star on her forehead.  She was good but had a few pet spooks, one of which was the bridge there at Clarkdale over the river.  I carried either a quirt or a little persuader called a "billy" which was a short length of hard wood with a leather thong wrist strap. A bump between the ears with it was very helpful in convincing a reluctant mule they did want to do something after all. Right then we did not have too many animals at the pasture out behind Tuzigoot so that set of chores was not very lengthy or hard.  

Dee was another pen pal, a kind of farm boy/cowboy who was living in Kansas at that time. He did actually come for a brief visit, maybe the next year, but he never got to be a  real favorite.  I do not even have a photo, I don't think, although he sent me one on a horse. He was a rather big stout looking guy, wide shoulders etc. 

No new pix but anyway: Here is Ruby and me looking a bit surly holding her, that old bridge--which is now kind of falling to ruin and the ends blocked by trees and junk-- and yours truly (looking sooooo young and innocent.) Well, I guess at that time I really was. I was eighteen that fall or eighteen and half,  since my birthday was in April. From  the viewpoint of 78 that is very young!!

Memoir Monday, Oct 11, 1957

Back to that crazy freshman year at Clarkdale the last year before it became Mingus, the 1957-58 school year.   

Oct 11, 1957

Got up early. Did the horse chores. Ate breakfast and visited with Mom a while. Dressed and up to Kit’s (Evelyn’s) to pick her up. We were quite early. We talked until the bell rang. Up to study hall,  Howard, Bobbi and Tyce were discussing me. In reference to my sobriquet “Mosquito,” Tyce said, “Maybe she ain’t big but she sure has a heck of a bite.” I nearly laughed out loud. They had not seen me. English class I turned in my report on “Jumper” and read Tyce’s. His is good but not as complete as mine. The senior gals brought the school paper around. I bought a copy. My first published work, mentioning TWM too. Recess. Visited Carolyn (Nobles), Tracy (Ensign) and Linda (Crose). Algebra. Did some board work. Home for lunch and up again. Teased and talked with Howard Schwab and some of the girls.  Usual typing. In Spanish had a time. Mrs Horsepower asked us questions. I got all the easy ones and Tyce got all the hard ones. He made La Professora mad! Down to History. Bobbi left on the early bus. As there were only four, Mr Cantrell let us out. Tony and Delores went home. Tyce and El Professor to the gym and I came home and saddled up Louie. About the first canyon after the Indian Hills gate, a yellow truck came up,. A loud whistle startled me as the truck drew along side and passed. I looked up into the laughing eyes of Tyce. He grinned and waved at me as he leaned on the ledge. He looked out the back window as they (he and the foreman) drove on. Louie and I had a nice ride and I rode Tina too. Usual chores. Ate. Did some writing and hit the hay. What is on the book for tomorrow? Quien sabe.  Adios, Peggy. PS 11 is now a lucky day.

For a short while my friend Evelyn decided she wanted to be "Kitten", thus the 'Kit'. I can laugh now recalling how many silly aliases I aspired to over the years. Such as here going by Peggy instead of Maggie since I had become Margaret for awhile. I have no idea if girls still do that. Maybe not; young people are more inclined to want to change their pronouns if I can trust the news.  Sometimes that means names too, I suppose. Shrug!!

As I have said before, the first class of the day happened to be study hall. I must have wandered in a few minutes late and overheard this conversation. I often felt I was an odd gal out, not quite fitting in to the rest of  the group and maybe often really not liked. I have no idea how much of that was actual or just my perception. In later years I am inclined to say it was mostly me, how I felt--I was prickly and shy and knew my life and family aside from the school scene were very different. I had friends, maybe more and better than I recognized in those days.  For example, Carolyn(Nobles), Linda (Crose) and Tracy (Ensign) were all 8th graders at this point and later were part of my graduating class, except Tracy had moved away.And I did and do think of them as friends. 

Charlie Mike was now home from the hospital after his broken leg but still in the half body cast and of course not going to school.  For the most part, life went on pretty much as usual. Mom spent some time most days home schooling him so he would not fall too far behind. First grade is a rather critical point in schooling. Otherwise she had resumed the household tasks and I was back mostly doing horse and mule work. I'd have to check back to see what we had right then. I know Tina and Louie--not sure of others. 

I was not fond of Ms Taylor, the typing teacher who also was in charge of the mimeographed (maybe a 'ditto' machine with the purple gunk?) school paper, but she knew, perhaps from Miss Rayle, that I liked to write so she had made me more or less the freshman class reporter. It was part gossip column and some relating various events. I'm not sure what this article was, my first effort in that line. I think the paper cost five cents. I usually could not have found much more to spend!

Our family privately called the small hills west of the Cottonwood highway "The Indian Hills" because Vince and Vernon Randall's mom lived up there. Other than her small house, they were bare and we often rode up there. I think they may have been Yavapai tribal land.  

 For "pix" tax--One photo of me on Louie out on the open area west of the assorted houses where the Nobles family and several others lived. An earlier friend named Michele Boyle was there for a bit and I think perhaps Kathy Feld and her mom lived there also. At this time I think Louie was teaching me more than I was training him! He was one wily old mule and well trained when we got him. Then Tina up the the canyon, near the time and place when she broke Charlie Mike's leg. 

Memoir Monday, 4 Oct 1963

 I will get back to school days in time but my first full year of cowboy girl life was full of a lot of things also. In a way I see that as a detour and even an error on my part but I am also glad I did take those four years away from the rest of my life and must admit I did a lot of growing in some aspects and certainly learned things  few of my contemporaries ever experienced. The Old West was gone but this was the trailing fringe of it and certainly marked my character and of course my later fiction writing.

Oct 4, 1963 Fri

It gets harder every day to get up but I always manage to do it somehow. I fed and cleaned pens. After breakfast I brought up Leo and Jolly. Prez and I had a fairly short haul. No grain and the critters were okay. I went up for mail. At last I heard from Judy and that was a small bright spot. I  led Chief around and picked up two pop bottles. That’s eight cents much needed. After lunch I wrote a letter and finished outlining my “Pony and the Dark Horse” story. I really believe it has possibilities. I went up to the library at 3:40. Finally I broke down and told the librarian my purpose in checking out these teenage horse books. Back home CM and I went to work. Buzzie had colic. We drove out to do the chores while Dad and Doc S worked on her. We had to eat in shifts and walk her etc. Finally at 9:00 she began to improve. We were ready to put her up by 12:00 or a little before so a long day came to an end. Man, I am really shot. I feel like I haven’t slept in years. I’m glad Buzz is recovering but it sure costs to keep these ponies going. Better luck tomorrow.

I'd been doing "chores" for a good eight years or more by now but they had expanded over time to be a full time job, a very full time job. Although Charlie Mike and of course Dad did a lot of work also,  their efforts were more sporadic and the ultimate responsibility was always squarely on my shoulders. Ostensibly it was Dad's business but he pursued other projects and his worsening bipolar problem would often sideline him for hours or even days in a stretch. The work did not stop at those times. 

That spring we had gotten several young registered Quarter Horses to 'improve our herd' and  they did not take well to the rougher feed and accommodations the old cow-ponies and mules handled easily.  We got well acquainted with the local veterinarian. (Doctor Schauffler). Buzzie was especially subject to colic. 

Judy (Crouch, at that time, nee Quigley) was one of my first pen pals so by now we were well acquainted. She was a very good artist and we were trying to collaborate on some  writing projects with an eye on publishing eventually.  I had begun one girl-and-horse story which became Cindy and the Challenges (never published but I still may someday). Pony and the Dark Horse was another idea I had been considering. I checked out nearly every similar book in the Clarkdale Library to immerse myself in the facts and flavor of the genre. 

I was never actually paid for my work or even had an 'allowance' while in school. Some of the animals were supposedly mine but that was always a bit doubtful! It seems harsh and was but then the family was constantly on the edge of poverty and there was seldom much to spare. Turning in found pop bottles was one way Charlie Mike and I got spending money.  Most people threw them out or hoarded in a shed or back yard  but never recycled. We took advantage of both!

So here are some early shots of the colts I mention.  In order: Jolly--grey filly with big white blaze and 3 white feet--Leo bloodline; Buzzie-bright sorrel with blaze and white foot--Buzzie Bell bloodline; Leo Mix-gray stud colt with star--Leo bloodline. (Yavapai) Chief was the registered Appaloosa stallion we had gotten the year before. Last shot is me on him. For a stallion he was very well behaved and handled as easily as most geldings. I had no problems riding him, even leading other animals so long as not a mare in season. 

Memoir Monday, Sept 27, 1962

 Sept 27, 1962 Thurs

Saludos, yo. I rolled out when the sun was barely up and it made my hair gold as I went down to feed. I rode Annie out and did the chores. All was okay except Taffy had cut her right forefoot. We doctored Stony’s ear and I took Prez for a lead along the highway where I picked up three pop bottles. I wasted another day. All I did was make a few paper doll things and sleep. I seem to have to sleep every afternoon. Tomorrow I must fix these Capri pants. The zipper is busting out. I rode Annie out again as it was finally beginning to clear. I do hope it is nice over the weekend so we can ride. I rearranged some of my furniture this morning for winter. After the chores and supper were done, I worked on my poems. I’ve written several new ones recently. I’ll have to make copies of them to send to Jose. I wish he’d hurry up and write but I guess he’s busy. Old LS is still up to his tricks of staring. He’s a damn smart alec. Well it’s almost 10:00 pm. Not much else to add about today. I sure wish we’d get the money deals squared away so that we could have enough to eat first and secondly be able start on our various plans and such. Oh why must things take so long??

At this time I was out of school having graduated in May. Already those days were fading into the background. In a way it was sad because the last semester of my high school days was a high point of my life for some time. I had accomplished what I set out to do and done it well, if I do say so myself. I had picked up after being out for a year and did as well or better than I had before and ended up graduating with honors. Somehow the confidence and enthusiasm that gave me faded away far too soon and I sank back into the cowboy girl rut and again thought that was really all I could do, feeling my talents and hobbies were of no value--since I often got chided harshly for 'wasting time' on them. My academic record seemed to have no value either and college was an unattainable vague dream for which I was afraid to reach.  I also worried what would happen to the animals I had invested so much time and effort in if I left.  I wish someone had kicked my butt!! But that did not happen for four years and when it finally did, I did some of the kicking myself, that and life. And several 'angels' helped me.

All the critters I mention here were mules in various stages of training and Taffy was a newer one, very light, almost palomino. I am pretty sure I have no photo of her. Prez (Presidente)  and Annie had been with us awhile and were both good reliable animals and I rode both of them often, Stony was another trained one and was due to be sold not too long after this. 

My social life was absolutely nil. I still wrote pen pals some but now in lieu of school work I continued my hobbies of writing, sewing and designing clothes, which is what the "paper doll" thing was about. It was easier to visualize how a garment or outfit would look if I drew it out, colored it and then could actually hold it up on a doll to get the effect. I did this with most of the things I made for myself or others and experimented with ideas for various fancy western outfits, very ornate and almost garish at that time. Since it was edging into the hippie grannie and pioneer style period, I also modernized historical and frontier dresses and gowns for possible contemporary applications. I sometimes wish I had tried a career in this. 

The Capri pants I had made from stripped pillow ticking--vertical slimming stripes!!--and they fit rather tight.  The zipper finally began to tear or pull out. I think they zipped in back. As for LS, I think I mentioned him before a few weeks earlier. He was a weird dude who lived down the street for awhile and kind of stalked or harassed me. I called him "Larry Scary." Finally I complained to my Dad who observed some of the guy's behavior and read him the riot act. He and his wife moved not long after that. Good riddance; he was really creepy. 

The rest refers to the endless project of trying to either fix up the land we had bought south of Bridgeport or sell it and buy a 'real ranch' somewhere to manage our livestock business much better. Unfortunately that never worked out. There were times we were operating well below the poverty level when neither Dad's writing nor the sale of various animals made the ends meet.  It was often not very pretty.

The first picture is Prez and the second is him under saddle. The third is Annie but I cannot tell for sure if it is me or Mom holding her. This was above Mescal Canyon, one ridge south  from the highway up to Jerome. Since she did not ride a lot I think it is probably me.

Memoir Monday, Sept 20, 1961

Senior year, just coasting along in many respects. School was only the necessary hours each day plus the bus rides up to Jerome and back. The rest of each 24 allowed some meals and sleeping, occasional homework, plenty of cowboy girl chores and keeping track of my pen pals. 

Sep 20, 1961

Hello. Even today wasn’t a bad day, as days go, so I guess I’m lucky. After seeing quite a few proofs I’m still convinced mine are the best..(Senior pix) Anita’s are good (she called mine ‘suave’) Everyone  liked them though. I got away fairly early. The morning classes slipped by quickly. ‘Reen and I talked during noon as usual. We inked our abstract series. Miss Mahoney made me ruin my 4^th one. It was a pretty series of lines which I messed when I redid it adding solidness. 

I had my work cut out for me this afternoon. We had nearly all our stock in the dairy. Rounding up was a job but I  managed, with Dad’s shouted “encouragement”. I’m getting in the habit of letting evenings slip buy without my accomplishing anything. That will never do. 

I got a letter from Al. He said he thought we were “sincere, wonderful people,” and  he thought he was going to like it at Pollard’s. “Gone With the Wind" is on at the drive-in. I’d sell my saddle to go see it. Oh well, maybe I will get another chance sometime. If I was on ‘friendly’ terms with some certain characters…  Well, that’s it. I’ve got to say adios here.

I had been very unhappy with the regular school photos a couple of weeks earlier and did not buy a one but I had hopes the Senior photos would be somewhat better. I was actually delighted with mine, about the only time I really liked any of my photographs. I was often caught with my ugly glasses on and disliked how my two front teeth overlapped a bit and that was just part of the things I was displeased with. I often thought if I look like that I will just give up! But for once I could be happy. Today I still can appreciate although I looked so very young and innocent, almost unformed. In many ways I cannot identify with that girl at all. That was just one of the bright spots of my senior year and there were several more; in most ways it was my best year of school, high school for sure,  and my best year for much of my young adult life. 

My friend Maureen Jewell and I had art class together. The teacher, Miss Mahoney, was kind of an odd little person, apparently a single mom with a little boy who I think was named Max. I enjoyed the class but she gave us some weird projects at times, a few of which frustrated me. I recall this was a panel of four blocks with different type of lines and shapes, mostly done in black ink with a bit of color to highlight or elaborate. I used inks in yellow and a sort of magenta. I think I have it somewhere, probably in a large case or portfolio along with many other photos, posters etc. I admit--I kept way too much and still have an inordinate amount of souvenirs and junque!

We had an ongoing issue with many of the animals we had at the pasture,  or as Charley Bryant called it, the allotment (I think that is an old ranch/cowboy term for leased graze) getting into Tavasci's area right next door. The fence was not too bad but the cattle guard where the road crossed from one into the other was often filled in to where the dirt was almost level  with the rails. A canny mule would walk right across and many did. Tavascis  usually had a mare or two in their side and even though we had mares too, mules like to go follow or make up to mares. So off they went and we had to gather them and get them on our side. Yes, a frequent job for me. I would get torqued since Dad would be hollering directions at me but I was the one on one of the mares trying to collect the strays and drive them home. He might not see what I was seeing or agree with whatever I was doing and would yell and cuss for what he perceived as errors in my effort.  Almost the story of my life in those days. 

Al was Alfred Rydell, a pen pal who had been the Navy and just got out to go to work for Art Pollard, down at Sonoita in Santa Cruz County. Pollard had racing Quarter Horses. Al was a Texan and thought that would be cool. Turned out he did not stay long and ended up going back to the  Navy but at this point he had come to meet me briefly a couple of weeks before and returned a few days later driving one of the Pollard pickups for a short visit. I was iffy--was he Prince Charming or just another toad?   

As for "Gone With The Wind",  I did see the movie several times later on but at this point had only read the book a time or three. The family library had a hardback edition with still photos from the actual movie and I was enthralled, styled myself a modern day Scarlet O'Hara and thought Clark Gable was the epitome of cool. Had I gone to the drive in with one of my local "heroes," I would probably not have seen much of the movie. ;-) . But that was about as likely as the sun rising over Mingus the next morning. Date was a four letter word in my parents' rules and so I didn't.  

For spits and giggles,  a snapshot of Al with his sister's little boy and my senior portrait.  He as nice looking--about 6'2" or so with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile but actually really a stuffy sort of guy. After the visit I walked out to the truck with him and he shook hands in saying goodbye?!?

Memoir Monday, Sept 13, 1957

 Oh that was a trip!! I'll share a long ago "fun" day with all of you.

Sep 13, 1957

Here I sit on my frosh initiation day. Shaking so I can hardly write. Mercy me. See you later… I really look fit to kill-- I wore my short dress, one high and one low shoe, hair bow, baby doll etc. I went and rounded up Marty, Evelyn, Arlene and Vickie. Went up. At the first got marked with lipstick and had to crawl the length of the hall saying, “Hail almighty seniors.” Morning classes proceeded in a clumsy fashion. I got my hair starched and came home for lunch. Back up and the fun started. Frosh were divided into three teams. One member of each team was chained up and the others had to go to the ball field, the train depot and Crose’s to get the combinations for the locks. I was the one chained up for our team. Eddie Jacques was my ‘guard”. Arlene and some others came to talk to me. I was chained to the ‘hitching post’ but the senior girls made them leave. Jan came over some too. At last my teammates got back. Ed knew the combination and had already unlocked me but he with Jan’s help put it back so they could unlock it. Later I took a paper of Jan’s over to him. I washed up some with Tracy’s assistance and got my cake and punch. I watched them swim a bit. Tyce went in when he wasn’t supposed to as he had a cold and he had to get out again. He (Tyce) is great fun. He has a funny laugh and an infectious grin. He is also a good sport. Between Jan and Tyce I am really all shook up. Came home, showered and went over to the hospital to stay with Charlie Mike while Mom and Dad worked. By the way, we got $300 from good old Field and Stream. Tyce is not nearly as tall as I am but then neither was Jan last year. He is lots taller now. Dale is taller too but give Tyce time to grow.  As I said, blond, brown eyes and or brown haired boys just ‘send’ me. They are cool, man. I really was painted but most of it came off. All went well at the hospital. See you manana, Gaye

This one goes back a l-o-n-g way! Does anyone else remember their Freshman initiation at high school? Yes, I was pretty nervous and not ever being a fan of slapstick or practical jokes etc. dreaded it. It was mostly goofy but none of it was as bad as I had halfway feared.  There were not that many students because this was the year before Clarkdale and Cottonwood consolidated to become Mingus which three years later added the far eastern part of the county to become Mingus Union. It was just Clarkdale High and a rather small school. My freshman class totaled seventeen and there were only ten seniors! Our 'big' faculty totaled only ten including the principal, Mr Ensign.

At that time the seniors seemed so old and grown up! I was pretty intimidated. This was only my second year at a medium sized school after doing grades 2-7 in one room rural schools, Camp Wood where there were only eight kids in all 8 grades and Willard (Bridgeport) where the student body was about  twenty five. In both my father was the teacher.  I was in awe of Billie Jean Crose, Vincent Randall and the other 'BM/WOCs.' 

This was one day when my horse stuff did not have a big role. but Charlie Mike was still in the hospital with his broken leg. It was several more days before he could come home in a half body cast which he wore until close to Thanksgiving.

The prior spring I had a mild crush on Jan Nobles and this year very quickly added the new boy, Tyce Miller to my special faves. We never 'went steady' or anything, did not even hold hands in the hall and such (PDAs were seriously frowned on at that time!) but were a harrassing-each-other kind of couple. What else can you really do at the grand age of 14 or so--at least back then in the dark ages!? The girls I mentioned were generally a bit younger, 7th and 8th grade mostly, and my gal-pal group in lower town. 

No longer teaching, Dad was trying to write for a living and had a number of articles and stories in many outdoor magazines for awhile. Field and Stream and Sports Afield were probably the main ones. It was a rather feast or famine existence and that went on and worsened as the years passed from 1956 to 1966 when I finally left home for good. 

A few faces from that old yearbook--the last Hilltopper of Clarkdale High. Tyce, Jan, Dale (Evelyn's brother and my classmate), Evelyn and Arlene. We were all SOOOOO young!!!

Memoir Monday, Sept 6, 1961

 

Sep 6, 1961

Well day #2 of school has come and gone. Except for being rather boring, I don’t think school will be so bad this year. I may drop either chorus or journalism, but I don’t know. Oh, they took pictures today, which was a dirty cheat since they didn’t let us know beforehand. I tried as many of my ‘glamour’ tricks as I could remember, but I have a sneaky feeling that my picture is going to be lousy as usual. Maureen was back today and we talked all noon hour and still didn’t catch up on all the news. She’s my best friend in school with the possible exception of Evelyn. I helped E on her geometry this evening. I remember it pretty well—better than algebra anyway. I put in a busy afternoon, helped unload hay and then rode Tina out and led Donna back. Boy is she ever stubborn. The more I think of it, young George really does look like his dad. His hair grows the same way etc. If he’s seventeen I guess George Sr could be as young as 37 to 40--no matter.   I still haven’t seen Gug but that is just as well I’m sure. Gotta blow.

Just starting my final year of high school. I was both a bit cynical and somewhat laid-back in my approach to it. I had decided to be basically calm, cool and collected, no flaming love affairs, no overt rebellion, and simply treat it as a different sort of "job" but as significant as my cowboy girl gig. I was determined to keep a good grade average and maybe graduate with honors.

I'd been chatting mostly about mules off and on with an older guy who drove a big truck for CTI,  hauling materials down from the cement plant to be loaded on rail cars for shipment either to the CTI plant at Marana or the Glenn Canyon damsite. (The spur track up to the plant had not been built yet.) I'd learned his  name was George Evans--no big crush or anything but just a nice man I thought of as a friend. Imagine my surprise when his son of the same name cropped up in my class. Younger George was actually in my journalism class and maybe another one or two. Never got to know him well but he seemed nice. 

I was furious about the 'surprise' annual pictures but my senior pictures turned out far better than I had even dared to hope so I just didn't bother to buy any of the regular ones. As usual I looked dorky!

By now Evelyn Morales (nee Graves) was a sophomore and my friend from the previous year, Maureen Jewell,  was also. Evelyn was getting involved with Albert who she married a few years later but we still often walked to the bus stop together and at school I chummed around with Maureen with whom I had PE and Art Class. I had not seen much of her all summer so we had catching up to do. 

Of course the livestock work went on; there was never any real respite in that from late 1959 until I finally left home for college in 1966. From about 1957-59 they grew a bit but the big change came with the arrival of the first of the mule year bunches in August of 1959. Tina was still my top favorite and stayed so until her sad death in March 1966. She was such an exceptional mare. Donna was one of the newer mules, a hard headed and not-easily trained one!

Gug was still my nemesis. A bit later he got a DWI  ticket and lost his licence so had to quit his job at the propane company. After which I saw very little of him and called it no loss. By then the stupid infatuation had died to ashes and good riddance. Not one of my finer efforts, that. But we all have to be young and stupid at times, no? 

Two photos just for 'tax' LOL. The first is either Dyna(mite) or Donna. They looked very much alike, short legged and stocky built, a light almost buckskin color. Neither one was any good in the long run! The next is with Tina out in the hills east of the river. That was some rough country as the eroded and weathered limestone was very ragged and harsh. If you rode there you needed your mount to have good shoes or it wore their feet sore in no time. And a rider needed heavy chaps to turn those thorns like the ocotillo in the foreground. Not sure what the work was that day--maybe helping Charley Bryant find someone's stray cattle.