Veterans' Day Thoughts

 Veterans’ Day Thoughts--Nov 11, 2022

 I feel almost broken today. For most of my life, surely all my adult life, I have felt I was patriotic. I love my country whether or not I favor any current government. I am a “nationalist’’ and also a staunch supporter of the military, especially our veterans. I worked for the army and air force for twenty five years, seeing their flaws, but never ceased to respect them. As a VFW Auxiliary life member, my money goes ahead of my mouth there. The old saw “All gave some and some gave all” does not feel like a truism to me; it is a Truth in the deepest sense. However, today I am almost embarrassed to call myself a patriot. Several important labels I want to claim have been preempted by a group of false prophets to throw a concealing ‘flag’ over their nefarious schemes and plans. I do not want to be mistaken for one of them.

 I am deeply saddened to see how many people who I have long considered friends and always held in deep regard and respect have been mislead by these same false prophets. They have tragically become seduced into idolatry of a “golden calf” to a degree that leaves them blind and brainwashed, unable to see truth and good buried by lies and deceptions. I have to feel pity as well as horror over what I perceive.

 The real traitors are not the ones those ‘leaders’ deceitfully label as such. To wit, a current candidate for Senator in Arizona blatantly scorns and denigrates the military and says that our country has never participated in a “just war.”  A candidate for governor wants to secede from the United States and make Arizona an independent nation. A candidate for Arizona Secretary of State, which is the official charged with overseeing and managing elections, is a self- proclaimed member of the Oath Keepers and was admittedly in Washington DC on January 6, 2021 with intent to violently reject tradition, constitutional law and historic practice.  While he apparently did not enter the Capitol, he was there to aid, abet and encourage those who did. Why he has evaded any charges I have no idea. All three have never served in the military they so scorn and the two men probably could have emulated their idol (that golden calf) and managed a 4F status by ingrown toenails, crooked teeth or similar “defects.”

 What have we come to? I am past shock and disgust. I did vote yet had to choose the lesser of evils in many cases. I have been Conservative most of my adult life and still subscribe to most of the ideas and tenets of that group. Unfortunately, the old Republican party of Goldwater, Reagan and others has been prostituted and contorted into something far different. I do not call this new movement Republican. Let them wear other labels that fit closer--“Christian” nationalists, neo-fascists and white supremacists. How can they dare to call themselves “Patriots”?

 I still believe in less government intervention in almost all aspects of our life and national posture; I do not feel throwing vast sums of money at a problem does anything to ‘fix’ it; and I do not think reverse discrimination is the answer to the problems US minorities and ‘people of color’ continue to struggle with. In short, it is mostly reinforcing the idea they are somehow “inferior” and cannot make it on their own! So I am not at heart a Progressive or Liberal and shall not be one. But the New Alt-Right is NOT my home either. The one-time ‘party of the people’ (Democrats) has become as much or more the party of the powerful and affluent as the old business and free enterprise party (Republicans) has ever been. Working people now have no champion. Oh, we are given lip service in the pursuit of votes and control, but it is completely hollow.

 So today I am torn and sad, feeling very disenfranchised and homeless in a political and ideological way. Perhaps as my grandfather said when approaching his 100^th birthday in 1997, I have lived long enough. Maybe even too long. Many days I feel like a dinosaur and totally out of step and out of place in this 2022 world. What is there to live for, look up to, revere and believe in today?  I find no answer. There are still many good people who do their best to be courteous, caring and compassionate--but few to none of them run for office. They would never be allowed to win and would be crucified in the meantime. 

Memoir Monday, Nov 7, 1964

 I got a slight reprieve on B&B 6's departure date. I had sent a note to Dusty by Charlie Mike early Thursday, Nov 5. I was afraid we were going to make a trip on Friday and that would be their last day. He met me in the canyon shortly after lunch where I had one or two animals grazing.  He told me the outfit would be pulled out by the Local (the Prescott Local which usually came Tues and Sat.) when it came Tuesday and that would be their last day here. Anyway, we got a good hour or more of talking and I was reassured we would not say a final goodbye that day or Tuesday.. He wanted me to write, giving me a Santa Fe address, and promised he'd answer. We stayed clear of the L word and anything of committment, but I felt sure this was not the end.

Nov 7, 1964, Sat

I got up at 7:00 and did the home chores. I led Chief out and we bred Susie, put “Dingbat” in the trailer, did our regular chores and cut a little firewood. And finally came home.We worked on that little red colt and he learns darn quick. We put him in with Bravo and Junior and they seem to get along okay. I watered everyone, did the noon chores and ate. Then took Chief and Annie up the canyon. I wrote a bit on the “unfinished story” and rested. Charlie Mike ran up and got my letters--Mary Corley and Ray Ary. At 4:00 we put the stock up and loaded equipment to go doctor Dynamite. She has been sick for several days with an apparent chronic colic. She was actually fairly docile about it all. Hope she pulls through it okay even if we have never done much with her. She’s been here a long time. I spent the evening writing a final letter to Dusty. I don’t know when I’ll give it to him and my little trinket, but I will. Wonder if he’ll come back tomorrow afternoon? Maybe. But I’ll see him on Monday and/or Tuesday for sure. He said he’ll be around on Tuesday afternoon. He wants to say goodbye as much as I do. Dearest Dusty, I’ve all but confessed now. I’ll tell you I love you at least in this letter, and then maybe you can tell me something besides “I think too damn much of you under the circumstances.” My dearest Dusty, I do love you.

This Saturday was a normal busy day with stock work. It was still mild but a hint of winter coming was in the air. Not there yet, though. To refresh my readers' memories, Chief was our Appaloosa stallion and Suzie the paint mare we had acquired with him. She had foaled a paint filly the previous late winter that we named Ginger. Ginger was now weaned and I think at Clarkdale. Dingbat was the six month old  colt of the mare Peppy we had acquired in September from Gallup NM. He was semi-weaned when he came, and it was time to start some basic training, though at that age far from riding-ready. Bravo was Tina's first colt, born early that spring and Junior was a young burro, about the third foal of Jennyfur. The 'boys' got along okay, still far from mature, and shared a pen. Dynamite was a mule we'd had a long time, since early in 1959. She never was fully broke or trained. For some reason she did not fit in well with the larger mule herd normally led by Tina or Queenie and got the poor leavings of the feed. I think she had eaten some moldy bad hay and got an impaction. We almost lost her. but she pulled through it.

Mary Corley was a pen pal I wrote to for some time and Ray Ary was too. I do not recall much about him--he was never significant--and I probably quit writing to her about the time I left home, fall 1966. 

Letters were still my main social outlet, that and seeing Dusty, of course. I often wrote letters or notes to him too when we did not get together. I had been pretty much head over heels for a few weeks by now and became almost grief stricken to think he'd be leaving and we'd lose contact. I thought he had grown to care for me but my old lack of confidence made me afraid to trust that intuitive feeling. I knew he had difficulty with writing and had seen that from the few notes he had written me. He was certainly not slow or intellectually challenged but he was a high school dropout, mildly dyslexic and left handed--which was not treated well in school as he was growing up. He had gotten into some trouble in his mid-late teens and as was often done then, any juvenile punishment was waived if the youth in question went in the service since there was a war going on. His adopted mom signed for him and he was off to the navy in 1940 at not quite 17.

This weekend I was looking ahead to the both dreaded and anticipated final day. As it went, we saw each other rarely for many months but I wrote faithfully and he answered surprisingly often under the circumstances. Those letters became my lifeline.

So a few mostly work pictures...which I have more of than anything else at this point! First is me about that time, probably going to Prescott to be dressed up. I had made the shirt and it was a favorite as I felt it came out nice. It was red-orange color with butterflies in a print.  Next is young Dingbat (really Ding Bob). It is probably Bravo behind him but I cannot tell. And there's Annie saddled in the background. Last I'm leading Chief with Annie--something I did many, many times! It is odd I had the hackamore bit on her; not sure why. Convenience maybe.

Memoir Monday, Oct 31, 1964

Finally over the mumps and back to business as usual, more or less. The day before had worked out well, one of those Fridays I looked forward to...  It was still vivid in my mind. 

Oct 31, 1964 Sat

I got up a bit late since I went to bed at 11:00 last night. Fed, etc. I don’t care for sorting moldy hay but this isn’t too bad. Mom drove us out and we did our chores. I saddled Annie and went for the  mail. I got letters from Norm and Baird, very nice ones. I really like Norm and I guess after Dusty is gone I’ll look forward to his letters more. But forgetting Dusty is not going to be easy… I led Chief and Bravo and rode Leo this morning. Mom took a photo of me on Leo. That will be for Norm, maybe --and Dusty. After l ate lunch we drove down to Middle Verde and got a ton of that %^&* filthy hay from Gimlin to stretch the alfalfa. We got an oil well check today--$3.73.  We nearly died. It was funny except we really needed some funds.  We were awfully late getting the chores done so just dispensed with Halloween activities. I don’t care; I’m not too enthused with that sort of thing any more. I dreamed of Dusty and Baird both last night, all mixed together.  Golly, how can I stand it? A week from now he’ll be gone. Somehow I’ll have tell him. I guess I’ll give him that poem I wrote as a parting gift. And I wonder what he’ll say. But I daren’t even think of that. Now I’ll get myself cleaned up for this trip tomorrow. My nails are pink even if Dusty doesn’t like “war paint." If he’s crazy enough to love me as I am, who am I to argue with him? I just have to love him back. Dusty Darlin’, you know I do.

To continue about the 30th, Dad had gone to Phoenix with the big truck for hay and I was out with Prez leading the colts and two year olds after the pasture work was done. I knew no one was going to be paying too close attention so I got going. It was coming on to noon and I headed out along the highway kind of hoping... Dusty caught me short of the pass so I told  him to go on and we'd meet down in the 'sag' between Clarkdale and Cottonwood. He did and we talked for an hour. I got a couple of pictures of him with the Plymouth and heard the dreaded news that they would likely be pulling out in another week.  We'd known it was coming but that made it even harder to say goodbye. That big L word had not actually been said by either of us so far and it wasn't literally spoken for awhile yet. It was maybe easier to write but that was still ahead too. Right now I was not really sure there would be any keeping in touch.  I hoped...which was all I could do at this point.

The photo Mom took of me on Leo was shared several places and eventually was made into an oil painting by my friend Judy who lived in Southern California. The old tin sheds in the background morphed into scenery she knew from her area in that picture. I still have it on my living room wall. It must have been fairly warm for the end of October since I was wearing a short sleeved shirt, one I had made earlier that year. It was pink and black which I did not tell Judy so she improvised. I guess I had been riding Leo about two months at this point and he was doing well. I do not think he even really knew he was a stallion! At any rate he was 95% a sweet tractable mount and his rare little acting outs were mild.

Bad hay--the bane of my existence or a major one at least. We had just gotten a big load of better alfalfa from Phoenix, but we'd get junk too and try to stretch the more expensive stuff and save it for the best horses. I sorted many a handful to get out the mold, burrs and anything else that was not fit to be eaten. I do not doubt that it caused some some health issues anyway and really resented having to resort to that. And that oil well--it came with the Texas property Dad had talked his siblings into deeding to him and there were royalties that varied all over the place depending on the amount they pumped and going prices. And the trip coming? I have no idea without looking it up. 

I don't know if I can find the poem I refer to or not; it is probably in Walking Down My Shadows. I may be able to identify it by the date. I found it--I think--and it will be at the end, even below the photos! In the FWIW department--not deathless verse though heartfelt.

So now some pix! The first is that one of me on Leo followed by Judy's interpretation.  Then there is Dusty in working clothes since he had just shut down for the weekend at noon on Friday. And finally, the Plymouth wagon I christened Moonspinner. (Me and my kookie names for things!) And below that , the verse I had written. At least one of many!

Farewell  (10-19-64)

Dusty, Dearest Dusty

What am I going to do

When the time rolls round that I

Must say goodbye to you?

Dusty, Dearest Dusty,

I’m afraid that I will cry

When the bridges are all mended

And we have to say goodbye.

Dusty, I keep asking

Whatever will I say

When they pull out the camp cars

And you have to go away?

I didn’t mean to love you

But you made me, anyway

So now what am I going to do

When you leave someday?

Dusty, Dearest Dusty

Don’t you know I’ll grieve

When we talk the last time

Just before you leave?

Promise me this, Dusty,

That you won’t forget me.

I tried not to love you, Dear,

But you wouldn’t let me.

Memoir Monday, Oct 24, 1964

I was getting over the mumps after a miserable week. At last I could eat again!

Oct 24, 1964, Sat 

I’m really alive today and it was a good ‘un. I got up about 8:00 and had myself a good breakfast while the folks were gone and I did the dishes and sewed some. The Greening wedding was today. We saw them leave. Barbara the bride in white etc. I helped lead everyone up for drinks. They were good. We went to Cottonwood for grain and stamps. On our way home we stopped for mail. I got my photos, a new letter from Norm, a letter from Laura and one more very special one!! I’m now sure that my photo problem was a finger print on the lens. Only one on that roll was really messed so I guess I ruined about eleven in all. Well it could be worse. I’ll get them again. Dusty’s letter was so nice, gentle and touching like his note. Dear Dusty… I let Annie graze in the shop yard for two hours while I loafed in the sun. It felt great. They sure had a noisy party at Greenings this p.m. The beer flowed freely, I think. Half the company was literally smashed. I led up the pets again and then visited with Mrs Wease, read the paper, etc. while the fol;ks were gone.  I made cookies and we had a casserole for supper. I ate and ate so that I weigh 117 now. I’ll get back to 125 directly--only eight pounds to go. I’m late for bed so bye ‘til tomorrow. I’m writing Norm again but I love Dusty! Can’t help myself there; he won’t let me. He is so genuine and sweet.

The folks had been forced to handle the chores and did so without too many whines. Of course Charlie Mike did a lot. This time I was sick enough there was no question  So they were off at the pasture while I was home. All at once food tasted good and I ate with gusto. The indoor tasks were  not too onerous. I was out  of quarantine now and it felt good to leave the house. 

The special letter I received meant so much. Charlie Mike had brought me one note earlier in the week and I had seen Dusty drive by more than one afternoon but did not think he saw me. So a letter meant a lot as I still did not see him for several more days. The  photo comment refers back to a roll that was blurry. There was a fingerprint on the lens which I.cleaned and fixed it.  Ref my first picture of Dusty posted two weeks ago.

The family I mentioned lived across street. I  do not  remember much about them or even this incident. The rest is pretty self-explanatory and routine. No photos that fit this time. 

I am laboring under a disadvantage here but determined to make this work--more or less!! I did attach my trackball mouse as the touch pad  on this little machine is a pain but will need to put my larger keyboard on too.It is that or write stuff on the desktop and then copy over on a flash drive and paste in. Better next time I hope!! Thanks for the patience. Call it s**t happens  to the Nth power!

Memoir Monday, Oct 17, 1964

So  much had happened in a mere week! The day before I had come down with the mumps! At the age of twenty one that was no light matter and probably added to  my later-discovered sterility issues. I remember I was one sick and miserable puppy for over a week. Childhood diseases should never happen to adults--the results are not good! (Damn my over-protected childhood.) I think Alex got them at school a bit before this and Charlie Mike had them several years earlier.

Oct 17, 1964, Sat

Boy, I am twenty shades if blue today. Ugh. This mumps bit is awful. Can’t eat worth a damn. I spent the day writing letters (ten pages to Baird and five to Norm). playing solitaire and feeling sorry for myself. The folks made a late and hasty trip to Prescott. Charlie Mike did all the home chores alone. I felt bad for him. I condensed sixteen pages of letter into four for Dusty. I’ll have Charlie Mike mail it on Monday probably. The only thing that tasted good to me all day was the special ice cream Mom brought me. It was delish. Gee, I’m a mess. Hope it does not last long! I’d just about die. Maybe my appetite will improve after I get well because I’ll have to fast ‘til then. I’m hungry now but I can’t eat. This is terrible really. I’m just so mad that I could flip.  I hoped and hoped that I would not get them but I think I knew I would all along. Heavens to Betsy. Well, I guess it’s the only way I can get a vacation so I may as well make the best of it.

To backtrack slightly, on the 13th, Dusty had come over to the house in the evening at my and Charlie Mike's invitation. This was not an event that ended well. I should have smelled a rat! (Naive innocent that I was still.) It was really out of character when Dad had said a few days before that Charlie Mike and I should "bring our friends home to meet the family." I'm not sure how it had come up but it seemed Dusty was to be one of them. Ha, this seeming jollity from a man who had become so reclusive we almost *never* had kids we knew come into the house and the one who had created a virtual fortress with the enmeshed family to where the whole world was basically barred from our place? Yeah, sure. 

Oh, the visit went well enough, talking about ranches and horses, hunting and such. I think Charlie Mike and I ate supper in the living room with our guest and gave him a piece of cake or pie. Mom gave me a small bawling out after he left, but the next day all hell broke loose. We were instructed to never go around the work train again and I was absolutely never to speak another word to that 'railroad man.' (Always said with a sneer, as if that employment was anathema to two whose father/father-in-law were both life-long railroad employees, and who had been raised and sent to college on those wages? Rankest hippocracy!! ) Needless to say, I was already well set in the practice of disregarding such orders and Charlie Mike was getting there. We would just be more sly, discrete and careful. I am not sure if Dusty realized at first how this had really not gone well. He was polite, neatly dressed and outwardly should have been quite acceptable.  I did not get to speak to him again the next two days. Then on Friday, the weather turned wet and we were not able to cross paths as usual--and by that evening I knew I was getting very sick. I was devastated!

Back in 1963, feeling totally disgusted about my lack of social life, I had put another letter in Ranch Romances magazine for pen pals. Norm and Baird were two that I had kept out of the replies I got. Norm lived in Idyllwild, CA and raised shetland ponies. Baird lived in Missouri and was semi-disabled with severe epilepsy but became a friend or almost uncle/elder brother and I grew fond of him, though it was no romance.  A few months later I ended both contacts  as I committed totally to Dusty but I was not there yet. 

The next week was dismal.  The disease has become very rare since then with vaccines but like many others, there is a resurgence due to the  anti-vax movement and arrivals of  people from other places where vaccines are rare or not available. BTW I had both sides effected at once. I have no personal photos of mumpsishness!(No selfies in those days!) So I found a couple of illustrations. My hair was lighter and face less round but the gals here (a before and after I think) are not too far from me at that point, glasses especially. The old rag around the face was a 20's-40's classic meme for mumps! There was a quarantine sign too but I think not by the 60s.

e.

Monday Memoir, Oct 10, 1964

 So the 1964 fall saga continues. Today, many decades later, it seems like another lifetime only partly recalled. Or a movie I watched, a book I read?   Yes, "Older but no wiser."

Oct 10, 1964 Sat

I got up just a little tardy but I hit the work and got a thing or two done. I rode Annie out. Ginger’s leg was dragging again but I fixed it. I also caught Chipper. He was gentle, really. I watered everyone and put Lyno, Leo and Buzzie through their paces. They‘d forgotten surprisingly little.  We spent some valuable midday hours discussing ranches but I got two feedbags made anyway. We {Charlie Mike and I} rode Buzz, visited the camp cars and found no one was home. Took Chief out and bred Susie. Rita was also in. Tina, Patsy and Bunny all seem to be okay so far. Thank gosh. It must’ve been that hay. Got home quite late, but I don’t care. No place to go tonight but I’ve got all dolled up to go to church tomorrow. Wonder if someone will get back? I can’t wait to see him again but I’m scared to really after yesterday. I may write him but I’m not sure. I don’t know what to do, really. No, I know but I can’t, that’s it. We got a little work done today anyway, no?

I have to laugh. I didn't here but I used "chores" so recklessly and habitually then. Really a 'chore' is a rather small and mundane task, like one might assign a kid so they earned an allowance. What I did was not in that category and had not been since fairly early in the time we had livestock--say 1956-7 or so.  From about twelve on, I was a near-full-time ranch/stable hand and edging into the 'real' job of cowboy girl well before this point. Summers and from  June 1962 on it was 12-14 hours with a couple off for lunch--at anywhere from 1:00 to 4:00 --and siesta in the hot months.

Ginger was the paint filly Susie delivered back in January just after an extreme cold period. She had a loose hip or stifle joint for awhile, not sure what caused it, but she did outgrow it after a time.The three young Quarter Horses (Leo, Lyno and Buzzie) were two now, ready to be ridden lightly, which I did, and if not, they were ponied most days and some ground work done to further 'socialize' them. Buzzie trained very easily and I could already ride her bareback and feel safe. I was worried after Peppy had lost a foal the prior week but the rest all seemed fine. In retrosect she may have gotten jostled seriously in the travel over from New Mexico which caused the miscarriage. Did have some almost nasty hay then though... Quien sabe ~ one big Latina shrug.

So on the 9th, a Friday, I had met Dusty early afternoon before he left for the weekend. This became a near-habit for us until B&B 6 pulled out and was resumed the next year when they returned. That day our convesation had gotten a bit more serious and deep. We'd both been learning about each other as we talked, mostly in careful and outwardly casual words. What was different? Only a few of the most subtle and cautious admissions were spoken but in a few intense meetings of gazes, the growing attraction was acknowedged. I was both joyful and troubled about that. I know he was too.  All at once it was not just a fun, casual and harmless game anymore.  The next few weeks things did get difficult as I will cover in due time. For now, I had no idea of all that was coming.

Also about this time, Dusty traded the Dodge sedan for the Plymouth wagon which he then drove until mid-1966. It was silvery-gray and  metallic green, styled much like the Plymouth Fury of similar vintage. I christened it "Moonspinner."  (At this point I nick-named about everything!)

Okay some photos to illustrate the era.  First, "Moonspinner" at the end of the River Road just above the trail down to the fishing hole.This spot does not exist today or at least is inaccessible. I have tried to locate it and failed. Next, Buzzie and Lyno, both saddled. I was riding Buzz and this is on the ridge above the Sycamore Canyon Road and the old TAPCO power plant, partly demolished now. Next is me on Buzzie, sometime that summer, about the 10th time she was ridden. I was then using the light McClellan saddle and a hackamore bridle on  her. (note Lyno has that bridle in the prior photo; it was a good training device.) We're behind our houses in Clarkdale. Finally Ginger at the pasture main corral about this time. She never was really a pretty animal but had a good disposition and the flashy color going for her. We would ween her and bring her home from the pasture not long after this.

Memoir Monday, Oct 3, 1964

 The horses we'd brought back from Gallup, NM on September 12 were just getting settled in. The little red colt was Peppy's son that we were soon calling "Dingbat." Not because he was crazy but his regular name Dingbob was equally silly! He was similar in age to Bravo, Tina's first colt, and they were together a lot. And of course "Dusty" was coming to dominate many of my thoughts as we had met and talked several more times since his visit to the pasture including the previous Friday midday.  In one conversation he said something about getting a photo of me from Danny that confused and troubled me. That's some background for this day.

Oct 3, 1964 Sat

I took pretty much of a vacation today. I got up about 6:45 and fed. Didn’t even saddle up. We  loaded our stuff and drove out . Worked on the little red colt who’s real smart but  not as quick as Bravo, and I even rode Peppy around the corral. She is such a nice mare, really. I like her. When we got home, around 11:00 Charlie Mike and I watered, cleaned the corrals and did the noon feeding. After lunch we took a hike down the river. Waded, hunted for wildlife and came home via the bridge. I stood in Dusty’s tracks and was surprised to see how close to finished they are. We rode out on Annie and Buzzie again. Tire tracks like Dusty’s drove clear down the river road, over our last evening’s tracks. Well?? I don’t know. I was distressed to find that Peppy had lost her colt. I guess we’ve got a ‘bug’. Tina may have miscarried already. This is sure a rough piece of luck. but if it gets us moved, like to Mohave, any faster, I guess I can take it. After supper I wrote on my narrative of the "Santa Fe Affair" --a great waste of paper no doubt.  I must question Dusty about the photo from Danny bit. I’m suspicious of that suddenly. Guess we’ll take Chief out in the morning so I doubt I’ll get to go to church with Evelyn tomorrow. Not that it matters. I think Dusty will be anxious to see me next week. He has my mags and said he wants to take a photo of me. If I don’t see him Monday,  I’ll write him about that photo.

I called it a 'vacation' if I did not have to hurry and saddle up to ride out to the pasture for those morning chores. I knew we'd be driving and took my time, loaded a few extra things--probably to do some hoof trimming or doctoring though I did not say so. It was kind of a waste that we never really rode Peppy. Didn't ride Susie much either. Pep was at  least basically broke and always had a nice calm disposition. I am guessing I rode bareback and probably just made a makeshift hackamore with a lead rope. We made it a practice to work with all the colts from about day one so they could be led, feet handled and were thus easier when the time for more training came. Bravo had been worked with almost daily since his birth in March and Dingbat was already fairly gentle and no trouble to handle. This was one of my main jobs at this stage.

B&B 6 was mainly working on the Bitter Creek Bridge which had been flood-damaged in late Augsut as I mentioned earlier. They did a few other smaller jobs and some work up the track out of Clarkdale while they were there but that bridge was the main one.  In about five weeks they had gotten a lot done. That was a bit distressing to me. When would they be leaving? 

Charlie Mike and I rode out with Buzzie and Annie. Buzzie was getting pretty well trained by now and Annie was generally a good relable mule so Charlie Mike rode her often. He was  learning and I was teaching him a lot of what I had learned from Charley Bryant and elsewhere. I might add that mares losing colts is not all that unusual. Just like other female creatures, it does not take much going wrong to cause a miscarriage but I was alarmed at this and worried there might be more. Later there were as we did get a "bug" which was a kind of equine VD, probably from the mare Scarlet we had gotten on September 10. Tina was okay; she had Rico the next spring.

Earlier when I was still trying to pursue Danny, I had sent him a letter and included a wallet size copy of my senior picture. I later learned that along about that time, before Danny quit, he had tried to persuade Dusty to go out with him and Joyce, maybe with one of her girlfriends.  Dusty had said, "If you can get "Muley" for me, I'll go." He didn't even know my name then but was interested. I think Danny got the idea then to play matchmaker but this only came out in fragments over several weeks. Anyway Danny passed the picture to Dusty and probably told him I had suggested it. This was such a goat chase for awhile!! A lot of the 'intrigue' makes me laugh now.

So some pix to liven it up:  Charlie Mike with Digbat a few weeks later.  Peppy with the colt she later had sired by Chief. We called him Sassy. B&B 6- their 'outfit' and camp cars. They looked pretty well used! And the bridge, back in late August after the flood. The three pillars had to be rebuilt and then the underneath part of the bridge reinforced.