Welcome to my World

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

Sunday, July 25, 2021

Memoir Monday, July 26, 1962

 By now I was nearly two months past my graduation and settling in for a four year stint as a cowboy girl in some often rather harsh and stark circumstances. In one way I was proud and devoted to what I was doing but in others it was very narrow and restrictive as I was closer than ever to being isolated. It had not yet really penetrated there would be no more school and college was just over four years away at this point. We had quite a few animals now and were going to be acquiring more--for which I had a very large responsibility. 

July 26, 1962 Thursday

I overslept again. I’m going to have to start setting my alarm if I do it again. Fed the monsters, ate a brief breakfast and was ready to roll at 7:30. Chipper did 100% better today. I guess the system works. I will give it some more trials anyway. When I got in I found that we were all going to Prescott so I had to hurry up and get ready. I wore my purple outfit today. I really like it. We got rained on quite a bit. Anyway we did get our money. I exchanged Mom’s levis and she let me get some to fit me. I also bought some paper. Someday I am going to buy about ten of those pretty little polished rocks they sell in the dime store in Prescott. I’ll make a bracelet, earrings etc. of them. We got a watermelon today. It sure was good. We’ve eaten it all up so it won’t spoil. Tonight we drove out and fed all the critters and hauled hay so now, if the weather cooperates, I can ride for several times. Dad liked my little design drawings real well and Mom does too. As I have said before, I guess I can’t judge my own work. They don’t seem too exceptional to me. I do enjoy making them though and I’ll have to send some to Jose. Of course I didn’t get any list jobs done. We got home about 3:30 but I slept off a headache until 5:00 and then we had chores to do. Busy tomorrow.

I often referred to the animals we were keeping there in Clarkdale at any one time as "the monsters". I loved most of them but otherwise their care was a "chore" at best and really onerous at times like bad weather days. I have mentioned Chipper before; he was mostly a good mule but did get a stubborn spell at times.

Looking back, my fascination with the bins of little polished rocks is funny. Clairvoyant? No, just the first glimmer. A few years later I got deep into lapidary and even jewelry making and starting with a tumbler, soon got other tools and machines to make little rocks of big ones and shiny ones from dull or rough. Being around mining towns so much, I guess becoming a rockhound was inevitable. I was collecting "pretty rocks" before I knew anything about them, before we left Jerome. 

I still dabbled in odd art projects and the designs I mention were one. Taking some inspiration from the Blue Willow china pattern and some Asian, especially Japanese, art, I did line drawings and sometimes colored them a bit. Like my poetry, I often shared some with my current pen pal, Jose, who I have mentioned before, the one associated with BYU who lived in Provo, UT. And as always I was sewing and making clothes. Purple was a favorite color as was turquoise. Still are. The outfit was a dark skirt with a lace band trim and a lighter violet blouse or shirt.

So some photos:  First is me with Alex, wearing that purple oufit. It may have been this very day I've described. Then a couple of my little drawings. I doubt I could duplicate them now; my eye for art has changed. 







 


Monday, July 19, 2021

Memoir Monday, July 19, 1961

 A day --a routine one--in the life of a summer cowboy girl between last two years of high school. 

July 19, 1961, Wed

I guess it’s a wonder I could do anything after last night. I don’t think I really slept much. I rode Trix out as usual and was she ever goofy. Sometimes I could just murder the little idiot. I spent the better part of the day doing nothing. I only got one letter today; the only one I really wanted so why gripe? Dear ole Wayne; he’s such a nut. I rode Tina out this evening, doctored eyes, dug out the ditch etc. Tomorrow guess I’ll go to Cottonwood. I just missed George this morning. He went up the road ahead of me in his big truck which was fresh washed and shiny. I’ll have to go see him tomorrow. I haven’t been over there for several weeks. CMike and I took our usual evening walk, saw no one and had no adventures. The time goes quickly and yet slowly. I was up to Evelyn’s this afternoon. She did not know much exciting news. It seems like no one feels good any more. I am not enjoying my ‘vacation’ much. I know we’ll probably work like wild when Dad gets back. Oh, I hope we go to Colorado. I don’t dare hope though. Darn, I’m flat lonesome tonight.

Remembering that time. Okay, Dad had gone to Colorado, one of many 'ranch hunting' trips that never panned out. I was frustrated with so many things where we were and really hoped to relocate but it was not in the cards. For one thing we did not have the necesasry lucre to make it happen in any easy or normal way and wheeling-dealing only goes so far.  Pie in the sky is a poor dessert. 

Trix was a favorite little mule I rode a lot that I have mentioned before. She was black with a white muzzle and had a slightly concave face as if her mama may have been an Arabian mare. An odd fact about female mules is although they are 99% sterile--the odd mix of genetics makes for some glitches--they do come into season like equine mares and can get very nervous, irritable and quirky. We discussed spaying with a vet freind and never tried it but I would bet it would help. He had done it with some Thoroughbred racing/jumping mares with good results.  Tina of course was my beloved favorite mare that was with me for ten years. 

George was just a friend, an older guy who drove a cement truck. He had worked with mules some as a  kid and we talked about them off and on. No flirtation or really crush on my part and I am sure not on his!! It was just cool to have some friends and he was a really nice guy. 

Inclement weather or not,  the chores went on and I waded thru a lot of muck, struggling to keep hay dry and edible, cleaning pens and such and of course Charlie Mike was my assistant. I was eighteen then so he was ten. We fussed some; I was a bossy 'eldest daughter' big sis but we managed to get along most of the time and he was a huge help to me especially when out of school. As things got rougher, we relied on each other so much-still do really. A ditch that drained out of the end of Peck's Lake (all area now Tavasci Marsh) provided water to a main corral where critters were kept. If it flooded and silted up I had to clean it to give them a place to drink. Never had a good shovel handy, DTBL. Digging by hand in soupy mud--yuck!

Other than a few pen pals I was kind of between crushes then and certainly did not have a 'boy friend' so yes, I was lonely and very much wished for some congenial male companionship. That was a long time coming. 

Really no good pix so a rerun of Trix and Tina will have to suffice. First Trixie with Dad. That was my saddle though. And then me with Tina, a couple of years earlier. She got less leggy as she aged but was alway tall and lean, Thoroughbred look really. She was fast but also as sure footed as a mule in the rough country. Just an all around fine animal and lovely disposition as well. Will always miss her...





Monday, July 12, 2021

Memoir Monday--July 12, 1957

Another from way back when. I had started out writing maybe two or three lines on May 1, 1955 when I began my diary/journal. After two years I was a little bit chattier but still pretty brief. From about 1960 on it was normally a full page and I was dumping more of my angst, peeves, sorrows and occasional joys out with a recitation of the day's activites.  

Jul 12, 1957

Got up at quarter to eight. Put the horses up in the canyon. Worked on the lower half of the trail. Ate breakfast. Worked on the wires. Walked up town. Not much important mail. Came home. Went down to Janni’s where I stayed til noon watching the horses and playing. Brought them up for drinks. Ate lunch. Rested awhile. Did the ironing. Cleaned up my room some. Measured Tina’s feet. Went over to Cottonwood and got her shoes. Came home. I rode her around awhile. Then we put on her front shoes. A real milestone in Tina’s life like getting to wear lipstick or first date.  Did the evening chores. Ate supper. Walked around and saw Evelyn and made up with her. I believe she was sorry as much as I was. I know I will sleep better tonight. I’m glad I apologized. I’m gonna keep doing good and make friends and keep the ones I have. Adios manana, Bella Dona.

!957--seems like another lifetime, really. At that point we had  Lady and Chindee, the two old mares we had gotten in the winter of 1953-54, one mule names Louie, and my mare Tina who had been with me about a year and a half at this point. She was at least green broke and doing well, really too tall for me at a good 16 hands at the withers (a hand is a horseman's measurement that equals 4") but I was and always would be head over heels in love with her. She was a very special horse. Putting her first shoes on her hooves was a big event! 

There was a lot of grass in places around lower Clarkdale where the rain water pooled and I often had one or more of the critters out there eating while I watched them. Sometimes one would be hobbled--two front feet held close together with a harness strap wrapped above the hooves. Generally I could catch them and they would nor run off but that was a safety measure. Mules, being wily, could be a litle tricky and Chindee had a bit of mule in her disposition!

I do not recall the cause but I'd had a recent spat with my friend Evelyn Morales (nee Graves) and we had been estranged for a few days. Making up felt good. I was never happy to be at outs with anyone I cared about and I was not one who made many friends or made them easily and quickly. Thus those I had were cherished and being crosswise was an unhappy thing. Janni was Janice Benatz, one of my younger friends who was then a horselover. 

With my teenaged self-centered grandiousity I was fond of fanciful and high sounding nicknames. Somehow my legal Margaret or common use Gaye never quite seemed real or right for some years. Bella Dona--which means beautiful woman in Italian and Spanish--was what Tina's original owner who still had her mother had called her as a foal. Fancy enough for the moment!! And Spanish, even before I took it in school, was always nearly a second language to me. 

Some photos from that time. First one of Tina's early rides. We had started off with her on a lead line Dad held while riding Louie but soon she was moving along on her own and learning to respond to the reins.  Next I had Tina and Louie up in the canyon above where our corrals were. It looks like Tina was hobbled. I spent a lot of hours up there in the shady mesquite grove while they grazed. Last me with a tired Tina on a longer ride. The background looks like our land south of Bridgeport but not sure. 








Monday, July 5, 2021

Memoir Monday, July 5, 1961

Just sixty years ago!! Honestly, was the person who types this now ever that young and a bit silly and also confused?

July 5, 1961 Wed

I don’t know how I did it but I was up at 6:30 this morning. I fed, ate and was off by 8:45. The chores done, I came back and went up town. I got a letter from Wayne today. That decided me against going to see G. I worked on shirt patterns some this morning. I was sitting out on the porch when G&V drove up the street. I had a pair of Charlie Mike’s wasp nests. I guess G thought I’d throw them at him because he gave me a real dumb look. I kept busy all day, washing more windows etc. I wrote Wayne (gotta hang on to him) and took his letter up  On my way up to the Big Ben for a refresh I ran into Eric Stadleman and another guy goofing off. Jan Nobles works at the Texaco and was talking to a guy. “They’re trying to make a big impression but they can’t,” he said. Of course he was talking about something else, but my sense of humor got the joke! As I came out, G drove up the street and turned in right in front of me. I had to look at  him and I smiled just a  little. He turned around and went down to Wombacher’s for a beer, getting there just in time to walk in front of me. Why can’t we stay apart? I walked slowly down the hill and he passed me again. It’s been going on for two years now. Will it never end? I did the chores, ate and fed Alex while Mom tried her hand at printing some pictures. I love to take care of kids. I want at least four. I’ve go to go to Cottonwood tomorrow. A year ago we (G and I) talked up town about him returning my lighter box. History repeats itself, no? Someday I’ll have to tell him, talking straight like I do to Wayne. That’s the only solution. Bye.

Oh my. I know we'd watched fireworks the night before. That may have been a time Charlie Mike and I hiked over to Peck's Lake to see the show closer than from our front steps.  I think Dad was off on a trip so we would have taken advantage. Mom wasn't big on saying no unless what we asked was way over the top.

I clearly had guys on the brain. Well, I was just eighteen and basically had the social life of a twelve year old. B-o-r-i-n-g!!! Wayne was the pen pal I have mentioned off and on. We corresponded for about three years but he never made it from Washington down to Arizona. "G" was a problematic crush I struggled with for several years--a somewhat older local guy who would have taken advantage if given much chance. I probably lucked out there as it could have gotten dicey. He was One Big Flirt and I was gullible and a bit naive.

Eric Stadelman was a former clasmate--and NOT a favorite one!-- who had graduated in May. He was killed in an auto accident a few years later. I find sympathy a little hard as I knew he liked to drive on the wrong side of the road with his lights off and turn them on when an aproaching car got close. A mean kind of chicken game!! Still I guess it was sad; I think he was married and maybe had a kid? Jan had graduated the year before and was probably working summers while going to college. No longer an object of my interest but still a nice guy. That little vignette makes me giggle, anyway. 

I wanted four kids!?! Yikes. I don't think so. As fate had it, I was not to have any except for raising a couple of step kids. 

Photos:  I did not say who I rode out to the pasture chores but it is likely to have been Trixie, one of my favorite little mules. That is my saddle she was carrying. Then there Alex and I are on the front steps--that July 4th probably. Last a panorama put together from two snap shots showing Peck's Lake. (I tried that a lot--some came out pretty good!) That clear area in the middle in the horseshoe bend is where they did the fireworks. 





Sunday, June 27, 2021

Memoir Monday, June 28, 1959

 Long ago and far away. This was the summer after my sophomore year and a few months before a bunch of changes hit my life. I am sure most of the names will not mean anything to my readers- a few are still familair to me in a vague way but mostly not to where I can really call up a face or much of anything about the person. Just local horsey-world characters. This was a local rodeo held over at Dewey, AZ and we had gone to it before. This time I invited my best friend Evelyn (Morales--nee Graves) to go along. We had fun as I recall. At the time I was still pretty much into cowboys and rodeo stuff--well, I never totally outgrew that! And the "Buster" I refer to was my curent primo crush. He was the head wrangler for a guy who had bought some mules from us earlier that spring and was a real working cowboy--and a darn good looking one! One of the very few of my heroes my Dad was even fairly tolerant about which was a very rare thing! And no, I did not really cross paths with him again. :-(

Somewhere I am sure there are photos Dad took of the arena action but that film may never have been processed or the photos lost somewhere along the way. I did not yet have a camera. And we did move our pickup so the  guy was able to get out from where he had parked. Just a day in the life of a sort-of Cowboy Girl who was sixteen at the time. 

June 28, 1959 

Rodeo day. We had to do quite a few chores before we finally got away about 11:00. Evelyn and I chattered all the way over. We looked around quite a bit before the show started and saw such people as Bill Simon, Sam Steiger etc. They had some pretty horses in the grand entry. The pickup men were different this year and not as good as last year. Fritz McTarnahan has improved his stock. He had some good rough broncs and the bulls were really salty. Only one qualifying ride was made on the bulls, The same guy won bareback broncs. Old Mickey Contreras got tossed. He drew the roughest horse though. The ropers have some darn pretty horses. The announcer, John Snow, was good at announcing but a poor cowboy. Old Fritz dogged and did a good job. Chuck Sheppard fluffed his loop. It seems that a few working cowboys took the roping. In the latter part of the rodeo Sam Steiger announced. Boy his tongue is hung in the middle and forked at both ends. He was a bit drunk, cussed and was really sarcastic.  Saw several guys who caught my eye; a blond blue eyed guy with a little boy who was by the truck we sat on. He looked up at me and grinned; a dark bronc rider with blue eyes who turned and looked at me, a guy with coppery hair whom I fear was half drunk, the bronc rider whose truck we sat on and a brown shirted guy. At intermission Eve, Charlie Mike and I went back to the Ford. I leaned up to ask Dad what had happened and he said ‘nothing’. I said “I see.”  This brown shirted guy said “Ah, si. We would like to get out por favor.” I about answered him back in Spanish. Also saw Mervin Foster (drunk) and his girl and a kid who looked like Clifford Sleep. They were going off with the copper haired guy. Lots of people were drunk. Although it is not as organized it was a bigger and better show than last year’. I think Evelyn was greatly impressed and even Charlie Mike mostly shut up. Most of the good rodeo hands are ugly. Even the cute guys can’t hold a candle to Buster. Something tells me I’m going to meet him again. “Turn ‘im to me.”

Just so there are a picture or two: Me with my mare Tina, in the rugged hills on the east side of the Verde River near Clarkdale. And me with Ruby, a lttle mule we got about the same time as this journal entry. I later rode her a lot as she was small for a man and a heavy saddle. She was the prettiest deep red color, like a real dark Hereford cow. 




Monday, June 21, 2021

Memoir Monday: June 21, 1960


June 21, 1960 Tuesday 
I guess today was a pretty good day even though everything wasn’t quite like I had planned it. We didn’t ride but got a load of hay instead. Bob Smith had lopped off his bush-puss and looked years younger. That Kerley sure is ugly. Reckon “Moose” will look like that in about twenty five years. Didn’t do much in the afternoon. Hurriedly finished the chores and got all dolled up. Mrs Blahnik took a picture of all of us (Arlene, Judy, Eve, Ron and me) The dinner was pretty good but mom cooks better. We listened to records and some danced too. They had Arlene’s party at the Assemby of God church. Arlene was really surprised. It was fun. We played a bunch of kid games and stuff. Ron chose me second (after Judy) to be on his team (ahead of Venita Crick who’s supposed to be batty about him) He brought me home alone and we talked real friendly. He said he wanted to see me again before he leaves but he talks like that to all the girls. Anyway the way he kept looking at me up at Arlene’s makes me wonder. Of course he was with her tonight but there are other nights. Before he leaves I want him to kiss me. Not so much because I like him; I don’t but I don’t want to be unkissed sweet seventeen any longer. He guessed I was sixteen. “No,” I said. “Fifteen?” “Gads! Seventeen. I’m insulted.” Well I guess that about takes care of tonight. Oh yes, guess who was announcing over at the ball game? My new big blon’ baby. He didn’t see me, worse luck. I’d loved to go riding around but not with John Paget, D.F. Frisbee and David Eggers. If Arlene had to be with Ronnie, I’d just stay home. Which I am. Big deal. Adios, Gaye PS Arlene liked her present. Tomorrow I’ve got to return Eve’s lipstick and she’s got to give back my ring. I had fun today. I wouldn’t want to go to a party every day but once in awhile they are cool. 

It was the summer before I went back to school after the "Mule Year" and I was sneaking into a teenage rebellion phase about now. Lots of wishes and big dreams and such, few to none of which were going to come true. I wish I had some more photos of this time but I did not have a camera yet and of course Dad and his cameras were not following me around. (Thank all the Powers for that!!) I felt pretty grown up at seventeen since I had been doing an adult's work and level of respoonsibililty for close to a year but as far as my personal life went, I really felt I was held to about a twelve year old level. And that was not far from the truth. It was a **rare** event to go to a party and be out for an evening with the local lower Clarkdale gang, most of whom were younger than me and had fewer restrictions on their social lives.

 Ah so. Kerley--he had a farm down between Cottonwood and Bridgeport--which were not in effect all one town at that time--and we often got hay from him. We were feeding a bunch of horses and mules by then and ran through hay like crazy. I think Bob Smith worked there; no one I was particulary impressed with."Moose" was the nickname of Marvin Kallsen. I had been in school with him at Willard for two years and he was my first serious crush at the age of eleven or so. When he was about 13 he was "cute" but grew into a big galloot and no longer 'cute' at least to me by high school senior age! 

Judy Davis and her family lived kind of undeneath where the middle school once stood, up the canyon from where it ran behind lower Clarkdale. Ron was Judy's older brother who was home on leave from the Navy--which meant he was probably 19 or 20, a cool age to teens like me. Arlene and Evelyn, then Blahnik and Graves but later Sandoval and Morales, lived a block up from me and were my two besties at that point altough they were 2 and 3 years younger. This was about a year before they began going with the guys they married, Robert and Albert. I think Evelyn already had an eye on Albert but Arlene was kind of playing the field. As for me, well my usual crushes on rodeo and TV stars and shopping around for that kewl cowboy who never quite appeared. I really was not into the guys at school. 

Sadly Arlene passed away this past January due to Covid and peuemonia. That was so sad to me. I am still in touch with Evelyn, at least sporadically, and I have no idea where the Davises ever ended up. Moose passed away in New Mexico about 2004. He was living and working in Albuquerque at the time and left a widow and some kids and grands. His dad had heart issues and died very young and I guess Marvin was similar, just early 60s. 

Here are Arlene, Judy and Evelyn from the yearbook photos and the three Clarkdale "mesquiteers" at a reunion in 2013, I think. We had not changed all that much and the old friendship was still strong!

Monday, June 14, 2021

Memoir Monday, June 14, 1957

 I was just done with grade school and diving into much more cowboy girl stuff in the vacation time  between 8th and 9th grades. 

June 14, 1957 Friday (?)

Got up at 6:30. Fed the stock etc and packed the Jeep. Louie and Stormy wouldn’t load in the trailer together so we just saddled up. Left about 11:00. It was quite windy but otherwise pleasant. It was very pretty up on the North Point Trail. Got to the top about 3:30. Took lots of pictures, some of me on Louie and Stormy with my chaps on. I really hope they turn out good. We reloaded and left at 5:50. We really came flying down the mountain. We got home at 9:10.  Put the critters up and ate supper.  We saw 6-8 deer, two big bucks. Also a fox.  Bed sure felt fine! Notes: I was quite sunburned. Hope it doesn’t peel. Guess we’ll take Stormy home tomorrow.  Adios Luz de Oro Scarlet

This was my frst ride up to the North Point of Mingus which became a favorite and much loved place to visit when it was hot weather. It was fun in the winter, too. Not sure on the day of the week but I think it was Friday. I was in a doofy nickname stage about then (Light of Gold and Scarlet?? Yikes!) LOL, 

This trip. Dad had borrowed our freind Charley Bryant's fine horse Stormy. I am not sure why we did not take Lady or Chindy except they were getting older and maybe not up to an all day 40-50 mile trip including a climb of  about 6500 feet! Tina was still too young and not trained yet so it was the mule, Louie, and Stormy who made the trek.

We followed a route up the grassy ridge to the south of the Clarkdale-Jerome Highway and then may have gotten on the Allen Spring Road or cut across below it for a distance and then headed up across it and on to the  top of Mingus. The North Point Trail did intersect with the Allen Spring Road but we often short-cut that since the junction was a ways south on the road.

The trail was established and roughly maintained at the time. Whether it still is now or not, I have no idea. Anyway, it was steep, rocky and ascended in many switch backs. It got to be very familiar over the next ren years since it was a good place to try out new mules and some horses for mountain worthiness and to exercise some who had more energy than good behavior for awhile.

Among the photos I mentioned were several favorites so I'll insert them below. I had worn my new chaps, a gift earlier that year. They came in handy riding through the thick brush at times.  Mostly I was wearing my beat up old black cheap (wool felt versus fur felt) hat that was about to the end of its days but the shot of me on Stormy, I had on Dad's good Stetson. The view out across the valley from up there was amazing!! This was before the summer rains began so it was a bit hazy with dust and no clouds in sight. I surely cherish these memories. 


About 500 yards before the crest. 









Stormy, a real fine cowpony
Riding Louie and holding Stormy--what a view!