Monday Memoir, May 6, 1966

 The previous week I had gotten a short letter or note from Dusty. He wished me happy birthday and said he planned to be in the area the coming weekend. I was relieved to hear from him, and began to hope, perhaps too hard. Still pushed by the Boss on 'selling' and finding horse-related jobs for myself and Charlie Mike, I had been trying to work some deal with Kitty. The details escape me now. Was I going to sell a horse to her or buy one--seems she had a yearling, maybe a colt of Chief's? --that I could train and resell?  So long ago... and so dim today

May 6. 1966, Friday

So Friday has come and gone--and to what end? I worked hard and fast all day long and went unrewarded. I counted too much on it, I know. We drove out fairly early and went on to Cottonwood for feed and medicine. I got the tetanus shot for the little ‘fawn’ filly from Dale Coon. He gave me a free syringe. We worked on the two little fillies and then I saddled Leo to pony the colts and Chief. Did my midday chores, had a quick lunch, and saddled Buzzie. I was on the road by 1:20. but something went awry. No sign of Moonspinner. I rode by Gene’s and several people were there. One guy in Levis, tee shirt and a light (yellow or white?)hard hat could have been Dusty but I wasn’t sure. Dared not call to him under the circumstances.  Had a nice visit with Kitty. She is coming over Monday or Tuesday, presently unable to decide what she wants. She was properly shocked about Tina’s death and Little Dusty’s. So was Jolynn who came by also. I returned past Gene’s. Even a larger crowd was there and the same guy still but I was more doubtful about him and no familiar car was there. Came on home and rode Lyno. She was feisty. No one had been to the message can. We drove out and then did the home chores. I would have sworn that ‘Spinner passed going west about 7:30 but it disappeared. Charlie Mike looked and we stayed outdoors after supper to no avail.  I’m worried now. Don’t know what to think, really. Maybe I’ll have some sort of message tomorrow. If not, I’ll write him at Prescott again, I guess, and try to get him to come on Monday or Tuesday evening or next Friday. A busy day again tomorrow so…

The disappointment was painful. I had not seen Dusty since he left in March and had heard very little. The Gene I mention was on B&B6 as a senior carpenter. His name was Gene Phillips  and Charlie Mike and I really liked him. Later I learned there was a party at his place since he was quitting Santa Fe and going to work.for Yavapai County. That was the reason for the crowd. I was looking across a field a quarter mile or more and it well may have been Dusty. I guess I should have called out or even ridden over. I was just timid of intruding. And not seeing Moonspinner, I was not sure. If it was Dusty, he would not have expected to see me there or been looking as it was on the far south edge of Cottonwood, out of my normal traveling range.

I have mentioned Kitty before. She was very much into horses, her hubby not so much. And Jolynn (Joleen?) (it seems she went by both) was Maureen Jewell's younger sister. She was near the end of high school at this time and Maureen was at NAU.

In the past week or so we had acquired two new equines. These were registered yearling QH fillies Dad had bought from a Hualapai Indian man he had met at the VA Hospital. Of course we really needed some more animals to work with and care for! Their names on the certificates were were Puani and Cyn Mas. (Sin Mas in Spanish, meaning no more?) Have no idea but it was spelled that way. I have at least one photo, I think. I can barely visualize them now

At this point I was keeping on keeping on as best I could. It was not often easy and very seldom fun but I did not expect much of either anymore, if I ever had. I was 23 and had essentially become a full fledged 'grown up', leaving most  kid stiff and idle dreams far behind. In time I believed I would find a way to move into a new life; but when, how and what was still lost in the mists of an unseen future, Believing such was actually possible though, I pulled out of my depression a bit. I had no 'really mine' four legged babies to obsess over now; mostly that was good. I still cared for and felt responsible for all the animals but the specialness was no longer there.

So pictures: Two photos of me with Cyn Mas and Puani. I think Cyn Mas had the blaze. These would be very contemporary with this narrative.  Next is Charlie Mike with Buzzie. We both ride her a lot at this time. Finally lower Clarkdale in 1965-66, not long before the last smokestack came down, in the fall 1966. This 'home area' had sure gone down hill by this point. So very different now!

Desolate Clarkdale 1966

Memoir Monday April 29, 1966

 A fairly quiet and ordinary day. Obviously no major catastrophes or blow ups. Yes, I am sure I was properly thankful. Two days earlier on my birthday I noted in my journal that no one spoke a harsh word to me all day. That was remarkable enough to be noted!

April 29, 1966 Friday

Got up and fed etc. as routine. Mom and I drove out. I hastily saddled Buzzie to do my leading. No mail for me so letters to Dusty and the Witts were mailed. I led Rico and Twink on the River Road and met Joan Graf by the bridge. She won first in trail horse at Camp Verde and her Louie had a colic on April 6. Isn’t that weird? I rushed and rushed but Mom drove me to my dental appointment. It was a misery but I’ve got a new filling in now. I put $4.00 in the bank and my $20 has earned 20 cents interest for me. So I have $24.20 now. Did the evening chores as routinely. Spent the evening sewing. I have an empire muu-muu, a pair of snug blue shorts, a blue and white angel top and a lavender and floral apron for my efforts. Took down Chief’s final feed about 10:30 and tumbled wearily into bed.

Really 23 now and trying to move ahead and find some hope and plan for a future that was not like the present. Actually I had four more months on my "sentence" but only the slightest inkling that a major change was soon going to find me. There were some hard trails ahead but each stride got me a step closer to the magic moment early in September. 

Let's see--Joan Graf was the chief ranger at Tuzigoot National Monument who had arrived a few weeks earlier. She was also a horse lover and we got acquainted, mostly by happenstance since I rode nearby and sometimes cut through the monument on the road we used to access the pasture.. Of course I was almost ordered to use that friendship for profit in some way--sell a horse to her (whether she needed or wanted another or not!) or prevail on her to book a breeding by one of our two stallions.  I did not accomplish either so naturally was berated and condemned for my ineptness, laziness and all else that made me so inferior. If I were not worthless, I would have gotten that job done...She had a Quarter Horse gelding named Louie and I think a mare. 

Rico was Tina's older son and now near two years old. I should have been getting ready to train him but that was just not going to happen. I do not think it would have been any harder than say Patrick and Ginger, but I probably would have had to get permission (since he was not officially mine anymore) and I balked at that but did not quite dare to just do it. The old rock-and-hard-place I found myself in so often. Twink (Twinkles) was Patrick's full sister, a year younger. so not yet ready to begin riding. Then there was Dingbat, Peppy's colt, who had come to us as a few months old with the two mares Peppy and Bunny. He was close to two also. 

It may have been a small act of defiance but I spent the evening sewing instead of on any of the favored and supposedly 'worthy' tasks.  I had not quite come to really saying "Eff off" to the Boss but was moving in that direction. I do not specifically recall those garments. An "angel top" was an invention of mine taken  off the same basic pattern as the muu-muu or "voluminous" I made for patio dresses, lounge wear etc.  There was a round yoke (pop over your head)  to which the main part was gathered so it flowed freely. Sleeves were of various styles from puffed to ruffled or fairly straight.  The dress style was knee length or a bit below and the tops were just past the waist. Some of the dresses were gathered under the bosom, or high-waisted and then flowed free below that. 

As I think I mentioned last time, we were giving some of the horses who had been sick a small, extra, late feeding, sometimes grain, mash or a little flake of hay. I would do that, sometimes with Charlie Mike's help, just before bedtime.

Photos? Nothing new but here are a few. First is Bravo, probably that spring. He had almost the same blaze Tina did and the same foot white. A real mini-me of his dam.  Next is "Dingbat" about the same time and age--short two year old. Then Charlie Mike with Twink. Last the old original muu-muu. The sleeves had been replaced from the original where they were the same fabric. For some reason, I still have it. It is somewhat sentimental.  Kind of hard to see the construction from the photo but it is very easy. 

Memoir Monday April 22, 1966

The major crisis had faded and all the animals were recovering. I was still worn out and very stressed since I  knew a "created" crisis was inevitable now that a degree of calm had returned.  "Business as usual" was anathema to The Boss.  He would have to invent some catastrophe or issue to remain large and in charge. That was his style. 

April 22, 1966, Friday

Got up and about early. Mom and I drove out at 7:30 leaving Charlie Mike to get Alex and himself off to school. The Boss left for Prescott early. Mom sent me off to be out of the way which kinda upset me. I was all for packing up and going right away, really. We talked most of the morning away and I had to hurry to get the midday chores done, bathed and head for the dentist.  I had to wait awhile and finally got my tooth drilled out but have to go back next week to have it filled. Oh hell. I rode over to Old Nick’s. Sold my recorder for $5.00, a poor price but I need the cash. He wasn’t interested in Rufus but listened to my tale of woe about injured and killed animals and all. The Boss got home about 5:00 and reported on his trip and then threatened me with all kinds of dire stuff, apparently thinking I really intended to run off at once and live with Dusty without benefit of marriage. He is sure trying to make me out a whore and I get awfully riled sometimes. But things cooled down. “Don’t blow your cool, Baby.” The evening chores were done in due time and I read the new Reader’s Digest. After supper I made up my purple floral peasant blouse quickly before going down for the final feeding. By golly a few more days of this will bury me but I don’t reckon it matters. Dusty has been gone five weeks now and not a line have I heard. I’ve been ditched, don’t you think? Well bullshit. Don’t blow that cool.

I still rode out some through this period but often Mom and I drove out. We went early today as The Boss had a trip planned. At this point I could hardly bring myself to say"Dad"; he had turned into a tyrant and was totally unpredictable and unreasonable much of the time. I guess that was why Mom shooed me off when we got back before he left. She knew my fuse was getting very short.We talked but did not resolve anything.

I rode to Cottonwood to the dentist and then on to the junk store about a half mile along the highway through town at that time.The real name of the proprietor refuses to come to me. I knew it once, I am sure. So then I was home and the Boss returned. I guess his trip did not go quite to plan as he was already not happy. And the created issue started at once. If  nothing else, then his vision of my running off to shack up would suffice. He could threaten and fume and damn me for that. I had told Mom several times I was NOT going to go off that way, and emphasized Dusty did not want me to and would not allow it. So where and why? Yes, I had recently said frequently I wanted to leave but the purpose was to find a job, not elope! There was little I could say and expect to be heard so I strove to keep cool. The rant ran down and things fell back into the routine. The late feeding had been established as the animals recovered and kept their feed disbursed throughout the long day. More work, sorting and such. Charlie Mike and I did it.

I went on as if all was okay but I had lost the little progress made in pulling out of my depression. Death would be such a relief... It is sad and bad to feel that way. I got past it but not quickly or easily. Less than a week later I turned 23. 

What pictures will work here?  Some natural portraits of the family. Mom first, she was about 46 and probably in peri-menopause which I did not understand at the time but she was not doing well. Next is Dad--the Boss--apparently displeased about something--or anything. Midlife crisis at age 54 perhaps. Charlie checking a tire. Next Charlie, not quite 15, with his normal grim or sullen face. He was certainly not happy. And last me, holding a mule we called Dynamite. I did not look too happy either. Were any of us, ever?

Monday Memoir April 15, 1966

 At this very low point, I was despondent and disgusted beyond any hope for awhile .I was exhausted and sleep-deprived. It would have been so easy to just lie down and give up, try to will myself to go out like a light or somehow get in front of a speeding vehicle--by accident, of course. The final back-breaking straw had been losing Little Dusty. Yet in a way that, following Tina's death, set me free. As was once said:  What is freedom but nothing left to lose? I was so very close to that point. 

April 15, 1996 Friday

Another one now--four weeks since the outfit left and not a line from Dusty. Got up and went down to feed and found Leo sick. I’d like to have died right then. But one cannot choose apparently. They took him to Shauffler’s of course. Charlie Mike did the pasture chores and I watched Lyno who was also ailing.  They brought back some shots for her. They refuse to believe me when I say I want to go. I guess they just can’t accept it . I’ll have to keep telling them. So I am a liar, cheat, whore, bad as a Commie... You know what?   I couldn’t care less.  Yeah, I sold myself for $20; that’s really how it was and I may as well admit it. If he ever writes, I’ll be surprised. I’ve been taken for a fool again, and in about the worst way this time. I am just shit-full of horses, especially sick ones, the Verde Valley and all its inhabitants, and too many other things to list. I promised Dusty I would not kill myself and promised Judy, too. But I can happen to an accident, can’t I? My promises aren’t worth a damn anyway. Especially when they are made under pressure, I might. add Well, I ain’t making any more. That is one sin I’ll quit being guilty of. If you don’t make any promises you can’t very well break them. Had to take Leo back to the vet for tubing and even with that we had to stay up all night with him.  Now at 6:45 he seems to be recovering fairly well. Do hope so. The thing that breaks me up is  Little Dusty really didn’t have a chance. I’ll admit to erring when I put him back in the pen but I was in a bind and it was the Boss’s surly temper and Mom’s carelessness that put me there.  Shauffler was out of town but had my colt been tubed and properly tranquilized I think he’d be alive today. But he was my horse, so… Well I watched the last horse I loved die.  Buzzie is okay but she's just another horse. I’ve been criticized so much about how I broke her that she’s about ruined for me. I never broke a horse by myself before--Pat and Ginger were after her--she was the first I did alone. She is gentle and safe; Charlie Mike can ride her and I can do quite a few things with her. She is far from perfect but she is no outlaw or barn sour or anything. I’m really wound up--or unwound...just not sure which. There are so many injustices in this old world. Stop the world and let me OFF!! My stomach is sick. I’ve been sick for two months I think.  I dread my next period. If it’s like the last one... something is badly out of order with my system. Well, I don’t give a damn, really. Except I think I’ll just suffer and not die. 

This one is awfully bleak. I have been lower a time or two but this was basically a real  nadir point in my life. Depression had swallowed me whole and my outlook was so darkened and poisoned by it.  The loss of my 'baby' was brutal. He was always special to me, somehow delicate and gentle, rather deer-like in many ways. He really was not fragile but fine boned and seemed little though he was not.. I did see a single backward blessing in knowledge  he now would never have to suffer any brutal treatment during training, for some small transgression that would have been inevitable, but my heart was truly broken at the time. He had been gone two days here. I always felt as if he was the last one to be sick but that was not true; several more to include Leo and Lyno followed him and were saved. 

Now having lost both Tina and Little Dusty, I might have asked to have Rico or Bravo in replacement but I probably thought I would have been laughed at. Who was I to expect the two I had somehow caused to die should be replaced?  I had already spoiled the one horse I had left and made her worthless. She got sick but did not die. How could I expect more? The fact I had trained both Patrick and Ginger and made them fit to be sold had no significance. In some ways they were also supposed to be mine and I did not get a cent from their sales nor a single word of praise for my efforts. 

As for my dismal assessment of the situation with Dusty --the big one--and myself,  it was strictly an echo of the slurs and ugly, brutal things I had been hearing. Yes, I was a filthy tramp and an immoral piece of shit.  Of course no one could possibly love me and my 'love' was a cheating lecher, anyway.  Ye Gods, but I was bitter and broken right then.  I did hear from him early in May and learned he had been sick for weeks, probably walking pneumonia which with his asthma was potentially very bad. He was worried about being take out of service (forced medically to at least take a leave of absence).  No wonder he had not written.

By the next week I had pulled myself a few yards up out of the hole. Life did go on and was mostly almost tolerable.  It had taken a colossal effort,  but we had pulled the herd through the crisis and slowly things went back to 'normal' as much as they could approach that status. 

Photos: I have posted Little Dusty before-- I can't  bear to do it again now. I had no new pictures of Big Dusty at this time either.  I think I will simply grab one I stole off line some time ago. It surely fits the mood! I present the Goddess of Depression...

Monday Memoir, April 8, 1966

 April 1966, all at once we were besieged with equine sickness again. Twinkles was Patsy's second colt, about a year old at this time. The next few weeks were an almost endless sequence of equine health problems, not all of which ended well. By the end of it I was a wreck!

April 8, 1966 Fri

A hard day’s night and a hard night’s day following one another. I slept about two hours last night on the kitchen floor between Twinkles watches. At daylight we gave her another enema (Charlie Mike and I) and got several bits of mucus and pus out of  her. She just kept getting worse, though. Finally we headed for  the pasture. Charlie Mike and I did the chores and Mom went over to Shauffler’s for some medicine. Some creep from Texas came by to 'look at the mules' and about scared me. I was so tired. I knew I’d be dead if I was any tireder. When we got home, a guy was there talking to the Boss. He wanted to buy  burro to go on a pack trip into Sycamore hunting buried treasure. He and a buddy bought Lila for $60.  In the afternoon Dad hauled them up to the tank where we released Rita and left them. Charlie Mike and I did the chores and hunted a little pottery. Twink was still worse so we took her over to Shauffler. He met us on the road and treated her in the trailer. He said he thought she had an aneurysm and might die. But anyway she had a chance.  Chief had a little distress while we did the evening chores so we had to watch him. At 10:00 we gave Twink another shot of tranquilizer and went to bed. Charlie Mike and I went down to check at 12:00. Twink was a little restless but she seemed better. Chief was not getting bad fast anyway. This has been quite an amazing day--good and bad. I had a two hour nap in mid-afternoon that saved me, more or less. 

Over the next couple of weeks I spent quite a few nights on the kitchen floor, fully dressed with maybe a pillow and a light blanket so I could get up every other hour to go check on, administer medicine or get and walk an animal in distress. I've always been a light sleeper and if needed, I could almost make myself wake up on a pre-set schedule. I used that many years later when my husband had a severe staff infection and had to have an IV antibiotic via a surgically inserted port several times in each 24 hour period for about ten days. Back in 1966, it became an ongoing near-nightmare as one after another of our herd fell ill to this peculiar ailment. There was colic, some signs of distemper and in some cases other symptoms. In some ways it almost seemed there was "something in the air"  for I knew of some other people's equines having problem about the same time. I guess I will never know. 

We took several over the the Vet Clinic and had Dr Shauffler out to Clarkdale as well . The sickness all occurred there at our corrals in the canyon, none at the pasture. Equine colic is a digestive problem--a bit like a fussy baby-- when there is pain and may be diarrhea or blockage. The biggest danger is for the animal to get down and roll in their agony, frequently twisting a gut in the process.  Surgery is usually the only way to save them and can still be very iffy. Walking them and keeping them on their feet is about the only way to deal with it. How many miles did I stumble up and down the alley in the dark...not quite sleep walking.

 Lila was a little black jenny burro we had.  The would-be-treasure-hunters returned in a day or two and we took the burro back, charging them some rent for her use. That was just one example of weird things that happened off and on. We once almost rented some mules to a Walt Disney production being filmed in the Verde Valley but the stock boss balked at what seemed to us a reasonable contract. They may have gotten some mules elsewhere.

Twinkles did recover, by the way, and was still with us some months later. Her final story will be related in 1967-8 events if I get that far. She had a sweet nature as a young mare and I am sorry I did not get to train her as I had her brother Patrick. Unfortunately, although she did recover within a few days, a number of others soon had their turns with this mysterious sickness and there were many more hard nights to get through. 

Photos: First is Patsy with new Twinkles the previous late spring. Then Charlie Mike with Twink, about the time of this situation. He had claimed her and named her for that pretty star on her face.  And finally, Lila with one of her colts. Baby burros are so darn cute!

Memoir Monday April 1, 1966

 March kind of went out like a lion at my house. Will discuss in my comments below. From that point things went down hill most of the month with more equine sickness and losses and dismal days... I'm ready to throw that book across the room. Are y'all too?  I mean a happy ending looks very unlikely and who can believe these endless 'perils of Pauline' situations. Where is the mustachioed villain with the rope and those railroad tracks with the old steamer coming? Living a melodrama sucked, big time.

April 1, 1966 Friday

 Well, guess today really wasn’t bad, all considered. Got up after a semi-sleepless night and fed. I felt pretty rough. My left ear feels real odd, like there is a pressure-bubble in it and my whole face and head aches like hell. But…it doesn’t matter. I had to apologize to the Boss before he’d apologize to me. And I got a fair long talking to but it wasn’t too drastic. I really didn’t let it bug me. Mom and I drove out to feed about 10:00. When we came back I did midday chores a little early and went up for mail. I got my ordered records at last. Wish they’d had the Eddy Arnold one. I ate lunch and took a good shower and then it was time to go to the dentist. I wore my blue peasant outfit. I think it is so cute; I’m proud to wear it.  Dr Joe P wouldn’t work on me til my lip heals even more--nuts. Mom and I went shopping some and came home. Mrs. Reilly came by while I was resting. I didn’t talk to her. We did our evening chores etc and now another day draws to a close. I am playing records peacefully and am about ready for bed. So far Eve’s curse has not struck or painlessly if it has. I was a little disappointed not to hear from Dusty. It’s been two weeks now.  Actually I won nearly every point this morning--even a semi-consent on Dusty--so I haven’t a thing to squeak about. I will probably go to college this fall and have three years to work and stay. Then I’m free and I’ll marry him as he should have things settled by then too. All I have to do meanwhile is keep my peace, hold my tongue and make out like studying horses etc. Guess I can be a fat cat same as the next guy. I threw my last fit yesterday. No lie, man. It doesn’t win you one g-damn thing. I am likely to have a weak ear permanently, I think. That’s what I got for throwing a fit. Oh hell, sometimes you just can’t win

The day before, Charlie Mike and I had gone riding on the two red mares searching above Peck's Lake for several missing mules. When we got home we found the old ice box by the tack barn turned over with a dozen steel bars sticking into it at odd angles. For the most part we had used it to store some of our stuff. Most of my sun-colored glass collection had been in or on top of it. That glass was now in shattered  shards and scattered all over the yard. It seems like The Boss had totally lost it and gone on a rampage. Charlie Mike says it was over his liquor label collection but I do not know. Still, I was shattered by the loss of my treasures and pitched one hissy fit. I screamed at my father and said I hated him. He came over to me but not to apologize. Instead he slapped me hard across the face twice, once over my left ear.  If I could have gotten into anyone's car right then I would have left with no question! The blows left me with a bad headache and a bubbly, half deaf ear for awhile. I reclaimed a couple of pieces of my glass and eventually collected more but many were irretrievably gone and are missed to this day.

So the next day dawned as they do and life went on. It was a kind of April Fool's bad joke but not the worst. Something in me had shifted -- a mixture of attitude, determination, intent and even acceptance perhaps.  As for winning a point on Dusty, I really do not remember that or what it might possibly have been.  There was preliminary acceptance that I might start college in the fall, at least, and from that small concession, matters did move forward, slow and lurching, but they moved. As for never throwing a fit again, I almost kept that intention. I became much more self-contained and restrained than I had been--and I was normally not all that demonstrative of negative thoughts and feelings anyway. Now they were completely walled inside and not revealed. I gave very few outward signs from that day onward. I guess I am often thought or appear cold and unfeeling because of that restraint.  It's all there, just not revealed. I no longer could, really. 

What else is there to say or show?  It was what it was and there are only a couple of  suitable photos.  First is a shot of me and Charlie Mike in the back yard. Beside and behind him is that icebox. Nothing on top of it right then. This was about a year earlier I believe. Then two recent pix of my glass. The heavier goblet may have been part of my collection; it is glued and missing some pieces. The rest I have added over the intervening years. In our 32 years of treks,  Jim and I went to many old mines and ghost town sites and I found several things. It is harder to discover any now as too many others have been there too.

Memoir Monday, March 25, 1966

 A short calm before the next round of storm which was a many-day tornado or hurricane throughout  April. That was a month I struggled to get through. My 23rd birthday passed with little notice; by the month's end, I think exhaustion just brought it all down to a slow almost-stop. From then on it was better and worse in fits and starts.  Four more months to complete my "sentence"...

March 25, 1966 Friday

A week passed already. This was a cool, damp and sweet smelling morning and it was a pleasure to go out. Mom and I drove out early so The Boss could get a good start to Prescott. But he didn’t leave til 12:30. Ha--shows you how worthwhile it is to hurry. It looked like rain all day and did shower a time or two so I didn’t ride. Chief was quite lame on his right foreleg --it’s not clear what is the matter with it. Hope it is not serious. I rode up with the Boss when he left and got the mail. I got all sorts of plunder but nothing too valuable. You have to sign up for four years with the Air Force. That is too long.  And they are real tough on testing etc. I spent the afternoon sorting my sewing  stuff and got it consolidated quite nicely. That helps. I’ve planned a skirt and blouse with the butterfly material now. The blouse will be beige with trim of the other. We got all our chores done okay. After supper I wrote to Tee and Shirl just to get it out of the way. I really don’t enjoy writing letters anymore. If they didn’t beg me, I’d drop all my pen pals except Judy and Linda. I may yet just sort of gradually like.  Kathy, Laura and Shirl wouldn’t miss me much. Mary never writes and I guess I could find time for Tee. That only leaves Carol, Maureen and Evelyn who are very “sometimes.” And Dusty, of course.

It was almost a novelty to have a quiet and 'routine' day anymore. I appreciated them when one came along. Having "the Boss" away helped!  I still had a lot of the fabric Aunt Roxie had bought for me and I kept changing ideas of what I'd make. My shirts for Dusty and me were done and I had made some pieces of an outfit in the blue print, a peasant style blouse and full gathered skirt as I remember. 

I had been thinking about joining the military and had sent away for info on all the services then open to women. I guess mainly Army, Air Force and Navy. The Air Force seemed the nicest or most interesting but minimum enlistment was four years and I was not ready to commit to that long. Not sure why I thought three years was doable but four was not. I was sending off for info from a number of colleges and universities and a few other things as well. That took stamps but I think I still had a little cash left over from my California trip. My desire and determination to manage some way to get out of the Verde Valley and the immediate family mess was gaining strength as overall conditions continued to deteriorate.

I'd now been doing pen pals since late 1959 so a good six years. Many had come and gone. I slowly got rid of all the guys including some that had made 'handsome hero' ranks or a more recent version of that status, but a few girls still wrote, at least sporadically. Kathy lived in the northern midwest and had recently gotten married. Laura was in the Appalachians somewhere--West Virginia?  Tee was in Louisiana and her family had Quarter Horses, Shirl was in Colorado and had come down with her folks to visit once. She also had a horse. I hardly recollect Mary. Carol was Mrs Ordiway--she who wasn't upset I'd had a crush on her then hubby. Maureen and Evelyn were school friends. Actually I kept in touch with Judy until summer 1971, with Linda to the present and at least Christmas cards with Shirl to the last year or two. Her health was failing as was Linda's in recent years.  We are all old!

So March 'marched' out of the picture and April knocked at the door. It was maybe not quite my absolute worst month ever but came close. Once it had passed, there were only four more but I did not know that yet.  What a strange trip it had been and still continued to be...

Photos? Darn, what can I drag up now?  A hodgepodge! Okay a sample of the blue fabric I mentioned, scraps used in a quilt square. Then three shots, the color in September 2021 and the b&w in about 1960 along the same general area in the Verde River bottom south of Clarkdale. It has sure changed! Last another quilt square. Why did I call this "butterfly fabric" ?  Well there are some in the print but it is an almost oriental looking design. Eventually it did make a special dress which may show up later. I wish I had kept it.