Chapter 6 ~ Page 78
As for the romantic idea of saving all of our water to keep our little desert flowers blooming, that didn't work out too well. Because of the dust we were eating, it became necessary to "rinse" our mouths out now and then. Soon that wasn't enough. We evolved to rationing swallows, with everyone watching to see that no one took more than a fair share.
I had been worrying how the girls would take the heat. Instead I was having doubts about myself. I had asked for this trial; they hadn't. After complaining a bit, by asking the obvious questions as, "Daddy, do we really have to do this?" and, "Why can't we hire a truck to drive us to the mountains?" they then showed their pioneer heritage by sitting up straight in the saddle, ready to ride on until hell boiled over.
This determination was expressed in a revealing remark by Colette. Every hour we dismounted to walk along side our saddle horses to give them a ten minute rest, an idea stolen from an old cavalry manual. It really wasn't necessary for the fluff and frills members of our family to do so, but they insisted. Late in the afternoon, Colette was having trouble climbing back into the saddle, and Dad rushed over to help. "What do you think I am," she refused, "a little boy?"
What could I say, except, "Do I ever pity the fellow you marry."
Another cute one this proud papa likes to tell, is that Colette also had a hard time pronouncing the Spanish 'j' in Mojave properly. Throughout the day I worked on a song just for her, humming, not singing for I was too dry for that, which went something like this:
Don't say Mo-job-ie,
cause it's Mo-Hav-ie,
Partner when you come
to this desert land.
Cactus and Johusa blooming look grand,
I'm here to tell you that it's not all sand
Don't fear the rattlers
and the critters that roam
don't bother them and
they'll leave you alone
Maybe it will never reach the charts, but it sure produced a smile around the campfire. The other thing that makes me smile, writing this, is that Colette's major as an under-grad years later, was Spanish. She even wrangled a semester in Morilea, Mexico, and two at the University of Seville, Spain, before realizing that one needed an MBA along with a language degree, to be in the travel business (ie: as in www.RainbowMtnAdventures.com)
I had been worrying how the girls would take the heat. Instead I was having doubts about myself. I had asked for this trial; they hadn't. After complaining a bit, by asking the obvious questions as, "Daddy, do we really have to do this?" and, "Why can't we hire a truck to drive us to the mountains?" they then showed their pioneer heritage by sitting up straight in the saddle, ready to ride on until hell boiled over.
This determination was expressed in a revealing remark by Colette. Every hour we dismounted to walk along side our saddle horses to give them a ten minute rest, an idea stolen from an old cavalry manual. It really wasn't necessary for the fluff and frills members of our family to do so, but they insisted. Late in the afternoon, Colette was having trouble climbing back into the saddle, and Dad rushed over to help. "What do you think I am," she refused, "a little boy?"
What could I say, except, "Do I ever pity the fellow you marry."
Another cute one this proud papa likes to tell, is that Colette also had a hard time pronouncing the Spanish 'j' in Mojave properly. Throughout the day I worked on a song just for her, humming, not singing for I was too dry for that, which went something like this:
Don't say Mo-job-ie,
cause it's Mo-Hav-ie,
Partner when you come
to this desert land.
Cactus and Johusa blooming look grand,
I'm here to tell you that it's not all sand
Don't fear the rattlers
and the critters that roam
don't bother them and
they'll leave you alone
Maybe it will never reach the charts, but it sure produced a smile around the campfire. The other thing that makes me smile, writing this, is that Colette's major as an under-grad years later, was Spanish. She even wrangled a semester in Morilea, Mexico, and two at the University of Seville, Spain, before realizing that one needed an MBA along with a language degree, to be in the travel business (ie: as in www.RainbowMtnAdventures.com)
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia