pandemo (pandemo) wrote,

My Brain Seems Stuck in Story Mode (Wednesday, Weight/Weather)

olgrmar a long time friend, has been hitting the email heavily, leading to this exchange:

You, lady, made me smile twice, when I thought once wasn't in my repertoire.  Today, when I booted up my computer, I automatically opened my iTunes, among other programs.  The top hit?  BBC World News' headline, "Nancy Reagan dies at 94."

I was writing to my brother (about my sister Lou moving mother from Mississippi to Rochester, MN, as we can't keep close enough watch over her from that distance) and segued into Julie stories.  Here's the one I plan to enter in my journal when I'm done here:
I took an 'I'm too sad to inflict myself on you further' break.  My long-time friend and horsing around buddy Julie S., the one I used to ride in the Rockies with, the one who sold Cousin Steve his first purebred stallion Tali Islam, the one who convinced a park ranger on a rainy night that two lone women really could park safely on top of old Baldy by reaching across me to the dark glove box, rustling around in there, and producing a pistol I'd been traveling with her for ten or twenty YEARS, removing/replacing maps in that glove box repeatedly, but had no idea we could be classified as "armed and dangerous".  [NOTE: I did not get to the point of the sentence.  Off on the side, printed sideways instead of written in cursive, in black ink instead of blue, I added "died yesterday of a brain tumor."  Now, that's what I call "burying the lead".]
Even when a coiled rattler was inches away from Mar O Dee's hooves our first trip into the rattler-infested Black Hills [even after starting out that morning from Faye and George's farmhouse, which boasted the rattler tails George had killed lining the window sills, some from surprisingly HUGE specimens] even when they spooked away from the SInks Canyon trail on the Popo Agie River outside Lander, Wyoming, [where we went with Steve and even Harold many times in later years] I didn't know we were armed at all.
I do remember having an informal "snake tally" competition.  Whoever saw/heard it first got the score.  It began innocently enough.  I was riding in front, but she won 10 to 12 in five miles.  Her best "gotcha" was the first.
"Do you want to see the one you just rode by?  He's still rattling."  (She'd stopped on the trail.)  Mar and I turned back, but halted immediately when she held up her hand, palm facing us.  "Don't you hear the rattle?"
"No, just the cicadas."
Pointing, she deadpanned in that droll way she had, "Look below that bush."
Wisely, I decided against dismounting to get a more dramatic angle.  Sure, a coiled, tongue flickering shot of that big a beauty would be stunning, but...
(Back to the black insert on the front side of this page.  Sometimes when my mind wanders, I can [underscore] still catch it.)

Monday 3/7/16 8:30 weight 224.02# °°°72.3°/59.1° overcast
Tags: deaths, weight

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