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. 

Memoir Monday, March 18, 1966

Finally I got well and up again. Life goes on. I went with it as best I could. This was both a good day in some ways and also a hard one. I was still very raw from the loss of Tina and knew B&B 6 was going to leave soon and dreaded that ...  I had not been able to see Dusty for well over a week.

March 18, 1966 Friday

Life goes on, though. The sun comes up this morning and I am still here to see it. And now that it has set, I am glad I was alive today. We talked after breakfast and all went to the pasture about 11:00 and did the chores. When we got back I saddled Buzzie and went up for mail and led Lyno around a little. I was afraid the outfit was moving but couldn’t quite make myself go over. So I fed. Charlie Mike and I had a PB sandwich and then went to work on the feedbox for Leo. He took a side trip and I waited fretfully. Finally he got back about 2:45. Yes, they are moving and Dusty was working alone. So I hopped on Buzzie bareback and hustled. I slipped up and surprised him. He was working frantically to get things tied down but looked up to smile quizzically at me. “You’re liable to get shot that way.” he said.  I felt a little bit in the way but watched as he worked. He gave me some gum, a Pepsi and a tiny box of candy. Finally I said I’d better go and that he’d just been going back and forth like I wasn’t there. He turned around and we stood in the corridor door and talked. I flung myself into his arms for a moment and he held me with a fierce tenderness and then loosened his embrace to hold me at arms length. He said first he had to try to win Johnny’s respect and make him understand and arrange real custody. After that, he said “I’ll come after you.” I promised I’d be waiting and behave myself. We kept telling each other to be good and be careful. He gave me a half-sideways kiss or three around my fever blister and finally I said “I love you and goodbye.” “I love you too.” I scrambled down ignoring the cook car steps. “I have to do things the hard way.” We swore there would be a next time and never a last time and a lot of other small senseless and large important promises such as lovers make. B&B 6 is moving to Drake for about a month (I’ll say two knowing how things go). 

I came hurrying home and helped with the fed box. Actually I just did it. I’m so much better at doing things like that  and accomplishing things than Mom is or Charlie Mike, either one. They went out to the pasture and I did the home chores alone. Ran over to the outfit but it was deserted. Tomorrow all the cars will be gone and Dusty won’t be back in Clarkdale on Monday morning. I left a note under the door “Came back to say goodbye but you were gone. I love you always.”  So that will be waiting for him when he gets in Sunday night or Monday.  He had said, “Now I’ll have to write you once in awhile.” I’ll write faithfully once a week unless hell bars the way. I had told him about Tina and he was sorry for me. And the pain in his voice talking about Johnny left an ache in me. It will be hard to get used to his being gone.  As I said, “It will be awfully empty around here now.”  The Verde Valley now holds no charm for me. My last two links are broken. And yet--he met me here and loved me here. He loves me dirty and sweaty and tired, just as I was today. And I love him all ways, always. I’ll be waiting somewhere.

I think Mom and Dad had gone to either Prescott or Flagstaff and took Alex with them so Charlie Mike and I were doing normal work. I'm not sure why he was not at school that day. Anyway we had plenty to do. I was still wanting to know but afraid to find out if B&B 6 was going to leave so he ran over to see.  I think I knew the answer anyway but that jump-started me. I had to go then and see Dusty if it was to be the last time for awhile.

Cliche to say "Parting is such sweet sorrow" but it was. I had known this day would come as they had been there for eight months. The job was done but I was not ready... There was something so real and truthful to me when he said "I'll come after you."  I took those simple and direct words as a promise and considered myself betrothed or promised from that day on. I kept it for five years although fate ultimately had other plans.

What else is there to comment on or explain? I think this stands alone. Not many photos either.  Buzzie since she was now my "main mare" and an older shot of Dusty just because. First Charlie Mike with Buzzie. About this time (early 66) as he had been growing; he'd. passed my height.  He was 15 now. Then Dusty with a kind of sassy look--he was teasing me as he often did once we were comfortable with each other.  And then the Clarkdale rail yard with the empty spur track (view side of the road to the smelter area). where work trains parked when they were in town. It looked so lonely from this day on... The local took B&B 6 out the next day.  The date--blurred--on the lower corner is not right.

Monday Memoir, March 11, 1966

This was the start of several bad, sad and hard weeks. I can get a bit teary and even mad now remembering but they are water long over the dam or under the bridge and really even the trauma has long since faded. The scars were deep but mostly they healed well over time. 

March 11, 1966

I was sick all this week with the flu, tonsillitis and strep throat and came within a very narrow ace of going out like a light more than once. I got up today (the 11th) with a fever and had to open my big mouth and foul things up so by 10:30 I was in bed instead of on the road to Cottonwood.  I wrote Dusty a fast frantic note but he was gone before Charlie Mike got it delivered so on  up to the post office. That evening I nearly took a baker’s dozen of aspirin and went to sleep--a very long sleep--with his picture in my hand.  But that‘s a silly theatrical gesture and worthless. Before the week ended, the Boss nearly eloped off with the boys--I mean things got pretty hairy. Still ill, I was rather peripheral to the main kerfuffle but it was discouraging to say the  least.

Then on Thursday the 16^th, Tina went to sleep and I had not gotten out there to talk to her, to encourage or try to help her.  I got sick at a hell of a bad time. I can’t help but think if the folks had squared up and settled their disputes that she could have been saved but I know it is partly my fault too. In a way that breaks my last link with the past. I really could walk off now and not feel that I was leaving much at all. But I do have Little Dusty because I chose him instead of Rico, I don’t have anything of Tina at all except memories and that’s the way I want it, really. I truly loved her. She won’t suffer any longer and few horses were ever loved more. Rest in peace, Chiquita Mia. Until  I see you again someday

At this period, the folks were bickering and fighting all the time and the damn lawsuits were the biggest issue and source of trouble.. I usually felt my health was of small concern but somehow the old practice that if one had a fever they had to be in bed seemed to linger. I might have gotten up and gone on but then might have ended up in really bad shape, too. I was sick.  Anyway, them having to pick up the absolutely necessary part of the chores--animals had to at least have feed and water--was an unwelcome burden and not done cheerfully for sure. Charlie Mike was in school and either did not volunteer to stay home and do more or they did not insist on it. I cannot recall. 

Learning Tina had died almost broke me. She had been a key part of my life for ten years and left a huge hole that was never really filled. I did not bond with the colts as I had with her which may have been wrong but there were some other issues involved. Sadly, I did  not have Little Dusty much longer either but that tale is for a few weeks ahead. 

Really Tina had not been well since getting sick after Rico was born in April 1965. I know I came close to losing her several times. She was only 11 which is not old for a horse but things began to go wrong for her. Having two colts in two years as an older mare was too much and then being bred again when she seemed to recover after Rico was insanity. In that I do take some blame; I truly did not know better and listened wrongly to Dad who probably knew really very little more about horses and other animals than I did, if the truth be told. But he was an "expert"--yeah, right. So she died. No, very few horses were ever loved more and as I could, I always took as good care of her as was possible. I trust she will come to meet me when I get to the other side as my many dogs will and maybe some more horses, mules and donkeys I had invested a lot of myself in those years. This was an end of an era in many ways with a few more anti-climax events still to come. But a big cable began to fray. 

The only possible pictures here are of her. They end up in kind of reverse order.. The first is with Bravo when he was a few weeks old. Charlie Mike is with them. Next is Tina with Rico, her second colt. Then she herself probably between the two little ones, showing her thoroughbred look, tall and lean despite some added bulk from foaling. Then a favorite shot of me with her --about 3 years old then and such a good rough-country horse and so steady for hunting, and any work asked of her. I have a painting a dear friend made from this photo.  Then as a two year old, summer 1957, not long before she accidentally broke Charlie  Mike's left leg.  Then as she was being trained; there was never any 'breaking' required. She seemed to be born knowing how to be a good saddle horse and cow-pony. And finally, February 1956 when she had just come home to be mine. What special memories of this great blessing of a once-in-a-lifetime horse. It was an honor to have her for ten wonderful years. 

Memoir Monday, March 4, 1966 Fri

 With the added leap year day, we now move the corresponding days from Saturday to Friday. More or less interesting? Big Shrug ~ Mostly not much different. This one slid by fairly easy but it was the last to do so for some time.

March 4, 1966

Today was pretty good. At least Dusty and I got together. I got up reluctantly and went down to feed. We wasted no time on confabs this morning and Mom and I were back from the pasture by 10:00. I saddled Annie, watered quickly and took off for Cottonwood. I had the fidgets and got my lost filling replaced. I dawdled along home; no sign of Moonspinner so I went uptown for mail. Charlie Mike got a letter from Twyla but that doesn’t help me much.  I rode around down the back way. Barner was still there so I sneaked up and found ‘Spinner was there too. In fact Dusty was preparing to pull the T'bird to start it. So I finally met the infamous Barner face to face. He’s a fink, really. “Maybe that thing can pull me,’ he said, looking at Annie.  I was offended of course. She is no "thing"! Dusty looked up with his eyes suddenly eager and alive but only said,  “What you got there?” rather off-handed. I rode on while they worked around. He caught me by the Y. For a minute I thought he’d go on but he didn’t. He got out and came around the car. “Where are you heading?” “Home” I said, coolly. But I melted quickly. His apology was stumbling but sincere. His eyes probed my face and sought mine as he leaned on Spinner’s top and moved his hands restlessly. He has ‘personal problems’ and still isn’t feeling good but will try to come over next week. I’d like to choke Marie with my bare hands. I used not to mind but I can’t stand it any more. The sly and mean way she does things to make it harder for him. I think of her as a fat bitchy thing. Perhaps she’s not but her image of me is probably not too complimentary either. So we parted, too soon and with too little said but our eyes had told one another “I love you.” It had to be enough for the time and place. I came home, had lunch and saddled Leo to go for a ride. I went up to the plant and came down the highway. He moved out nice and easy. He’s a damn fine horse. I gave Charlie Mike his letter when he got home. He about had a fit. We did the home chores and messed around until the Boss got home. He hadn’t made great progress; these things are always so slow. That’s legal crap for you. I haven’t felt too hot today. Today is 27 days so I really should tonight. I have a suspicious backache so maybe I am. I have not touched my lover since since Feb 11 or even been kissed since the 4^th. I miss him so bad I could flip. I just ached to reach out and touch him today. Apparently things have been pretty rough for him lately. He had to drive to Flag Tuesday night to get his paperwork in and got caught in the storm and a roadblock. My poor sweetie; it breaks me up for him. I spent the evening playing records and writing to him. At least I am reassured he isn’t trying to get rid of me or anything like that. I can sympathize with troubles because I’ve been down that road too. I love him, I really do: day and night and all the time, with all of me that there is to love. Can’t help it and don’t want to. Someday I’ll be glad, gladder.

Barner was a newer young guy on B&B6. He had told Dusty he wanted to meet me and was 'interested', I think not really knowing our relationship.  Dusty duly related that to me but I was not interested even if he did drive a Thunderbird--cannot recall much about the car; I vaguely recall it may have been pink (?) and year maybe 60 or so--nor that he allegedly had a horse. Somehow I thought he was Mormon (LDS) and that did not interest me either.  Then when he referred to my good old Annie mule as "that thing" he drove the last nail in his coffin for me! Twyla was the daughter of a burro crane operator for the ATSF; he had his family along while he worked here for awhile and she and Charlie Mike  got acquainted and corresponded after they left.

Dusty was having a  lot of problems over Johnny and the negative influences his mother exerted and her whole attitude of being n longer married except for the income and other tasks he was supposed to do but he still was as far as independence went or even having a separate life...legally yes, I suppose, but separated is separated!! 

I had been riding and training Leo for some time. Probably spent less time on him than on the two young mares, Buzzie and Lyno, but he had come along very well and was becoming  good reliable horse though still a stallion. He had a power and drive that the mares did not have which I enjoyed.He was fun to ride and you could feel his controlled energy. 

Dad had gone to Prescott, having recently begun dealing with another (a new) attorney on a zillion different lawsuits and issues he was pursuing, always expecting a good settlement and almost a public apology for all the evil acts and damages he had suffered. Immaterial that the family was impacted too and I suppose might have benefited if anyof it ever worked out though of course it did not. But it was always first and mostly about him. No wonder I get some PTSD flashbacks when I hear some of the rhetoric of our former President and his incredible situations--it sounds way too familiar. Charlie Mike and I both get upset about all that. 

Well, what for photos?  An old shot with Annie under saddle. She was not especially photogenic but she was a good reliable mule and I used her a lot with pleasure. She was generally steady and also willing. Of course Leo was one of my favorites. He was early in his training here so probably '65 rather than '66. He was a good looking horse, pretty much classic middle-of-the-road (not super bulked up or very lean for racing) old line type Quarter Horse look.  His color was distinctive, basically gray but with a hint of buckskin and blue roan, both subtle in his undercoat.

Monday Memoir, Feb 26, 1966

 

The excrement had not yet started to really hit the oscillator  but that was coming.  Maybe I was or am slightly clairvoyant but I sensed the pressure building. I was still trying to stay calm, cool and focused on just the events of each day as it came. Borrowing trouble never helps and worry is useless, really. So keep on keeping on...

Feb 26, 1966, Sat

Just another day. A rather bad one weather-wise but otherwise okay. Woke up with a sore throat which plagued me all day. I staggered reluctantly out to feed. Mom drove Charlie Mike and me out to do the morning chores. We got rained on some. That’s our lousy luck. I walked uptown for mail and bought some thread. I hoped I’d hear from Dusty but no such luck. I did get a letter from Evelyn though. Charlie Mike was sorting and took my whole room up most of the day. I was a little disgusted; couldn’t really do anything all day. Hauled hay down and did the noon chores. After lunch had to go see Peckham. We didn’t  really cover much ground today. I’m beginning to think it’s all a waste of time. What is the purpose of it? Got groceries and butane and came home under a clearing sky. But after the home chores were done another squall came along just in time to catch us at the pasture. And then it cleared again. I could’ve flipped but to what avail? I sorted and squared up my stuff some and wrote Evelyn after supper. I’ve got a cold and feel pretty raunchy. If I wanted to let myself go, I could get awfully disgusted with everything but I won’t. I am a little worried about Dusty; guess that is the flea for this bitch to bite.  He hasn’t been feeling well. I know I probably ought to walk out on him…stomp, stomp, stomp. “Anita, you’re dreaming.” I like to suffer I guess. How come all the psychology and psychiatric stuff ends up on sex?  I think sex is overrated, really. It’s sure a damn nuisance. Oh shit. That’s my favorite expression nowadays. I guess I am rebelling, don’t you? Don’t figure quite where Dusty fits…no accounting for love is there?

I may sound a bit jaded or cynical here. You think? Well, I was two months from turning 23 and felt I was in a deep hole. I tried to stop digging but life wasn't giving me a lot of help. So I kept on keeping on for want of any other possibility. 

Dusty had asthma and had it all his life. Stress would make it worse and getting too tired, being out in the cold, especially damp etc did too. He was striving not to get to the point of having to take medical leave or anything and I did worry. Was not able to see him often or much at this time and that was hard. I know he tried like on Friday afternoons but I could not always be out and about. 

I wrote notes and letters often, he not so much. Well I could understand that too--time and what to say, why try as it was hard for him when we *might* cross paths any day...but at times it did bother me a bit so my old insecurity and "was it my fault?" worries would kick in. "Anita, You're Dreaming" was a song on the C&W list at that time; forget who sang it but it was a sad no-happy-ending one.... OK. it was Waylon's song, partly written by him and released that year--just checked. Not one of his more popular ones but nearly fit my situation in some ways. Ouch. No beer to cry in. 

I felt a shadow coming close, inexorable. .March and April were full of really difficult and painful times and I sensed that but did not foresee most of the whys and wherefores. Well, I knew B&B6 would be pulling out soon for one and dreaded that very much.  I'll get to all those things in due time as we go on.

Pictures? Just work and horses and mules and wet weather and ...like I said then "Oh shit!" So just toss in few oldies for 'tax' of sorts.  First, Charlie Mike and me in the junked up back yard, probably a year or two earlier. Not sure which mule. Then at the pasture. The mule under saddle is Annie who I rode a great deal. And then Charlie Mike on Prez. We both rode this big old guy a lot and loved him although he could be a bit 'mulish' at times. That big truck was our F750. It got a lot of use hauling--wood, hay, stock... We called it Big Green. Five speed (?) split axle and all--I drove it very little and Mom would not even try. 

MondayMemoir, Feb 19, 1966

 

Odd that the day actually falls on Mom's birthday. I will mention it elsewhere on FB but here it is part of the narrative for the date. Let's see, she would have been 46.  At this point nobody's birthday got much noted. I tried and Charlie Mike too to at least let Alex have a little special--he would be 7 in May.  We were past caring for our own. 

Feb 19, 1966 Sat

Just an ordinary Saturday. I don’t especially care for weekends. It was Mom’s birthday but we didn’t make much of it. B’days really don’t matter much. I’m going to ignore mine this year. “They” had conflicts most of the day. Charlie Mike and I rode. We bought Mom a big chocolate bar and after lunch I did the dishes and made a cake while she was in Cottonwood talking to Peckham. I drove for Dad in the afternoon and did pretty raunchy because I was all tensed up. He was pretty reasonable and helpful about it, though. I finally finished my letter to Judy and it got late pretty quick. I only wrote twenty pages to Judy. We trimmed Little Dusty today. He is a doll but awfully high strung.

I actually do not recall what the fussing was about--maybe just same crap, different day, but Mom and Dad were gnawing at each other most of the day. Charlie Mike and I tried to make ourselves scarce in such cases. So we had either driven or ridden out to do the chores and then were  exercises most of the animals we had there in Clarkdale.

Dad had not been going to the pasture a lot but for some reason went that evening and did not take the wheel, which surprised me. I was nervous and expected every gritted gear or jerky motion would be 'discussed' but that did not happen. Sometimes I swear he had a split personality. A dim memory comes that he got over being peeved with Mom and told her to stay home and relax or something and then was very mellow with my still amateurish driving, suggested a thing or two, but no yelling or bawling out!

Little Dusty was the buckskin colt the buckskin mare from Gallup had the summer of 1965. He was now of course weaned and often in a pen now with Tina's second colt, Rico.  This day we trimmed his feet and generally worked on him some. I had been leading him for exercise and socializing most days. He had a very sweet nature, a gentle colt from the first and a real pet of mine.

Photos:  The first is Little Dusty--early fall of 1965 I think. He was then several months old. I have no later photos of him and am not sure why.  Then two of Mom about this time, probably a few years earlier. She was showing her age some but still sweet faced and some of her youthful beauty was still there. For a time along here I took few pictures,  rarely having film and also mostly barely out of chronic depression that got worse as this year went on.  I am sad about that now. I missed some things I would like to have those memory joggers of. C'est la vie.