“a mile wide and a foot deep, too thick to drink, too thin to plow; Powder River let ‘er buck!”
An Old Cowboy call … now Raphalia’s call across the valley to tell me it was time to ride.
You might think that two girls that had a couple of horses might come from rich families. This was not the case. The road I lived on was dirt until I turned about 13. That is when my Dad got me a white mustang I named Sony. My brother Greg and brother-in-law Bob built a corral below my parent’s home. They put turpentine on the base of the two-by-fours, these were the base ends of the corral to house Sony. That corral stood up fine for many years after Sony and I left.
At the time it was about me and my focus on getting that horse and going for a ride, but I guess it was a family project that pushed and waved through the family with different temperaments. At least that is how I see it now. My Dad was retired in his fifties from his career in cosmology. He had his own salon called Javis’s Hair Salon downtown Woodland Hills. Now he worked at home and at some local beauty parlors in the area to support the family. My mom was a full time house wife and during the winter worked at my aunts boutique girls clothing store. Boy did I get shit for that in middle school,
“Your aunt owes Prima Donnas?”
“Yes”
“My mother can not afford that type of clothing,”
Of course all the popular girls went there and that just made me sick.
