Page 9 - Ninety Miles From Nowhere

blossoms were beautiful for decorating our “play houses”. Then the seeds were round and about half an inch in diameter. We invented many games for playing with them at that stage, but the real fun began after they were dried and had shed their outer husk. The seed inside was made with corrugations like a tiny, tiny pumpkin, with a ready-made hole down the center. We dyed them with our water colors and strung them for beads.
Once when I was about thirteen, my uncle Van, my brother George, my sister Christine, some friends of each one, and Myrl Justin and I walked to Dripping Springs, several miles outside Nocona and in deep woods for an all day picnic. When it was time to return home Myrl and I refused to go back with the others. After they left, we tried to become lost in the woods, but we kept checking so diligently to see if we were lost that we never were successful in doing so. We reached home after dark and oh, what a scolding I received.
I never passed up an opportunity to go picnicking or camping, and in each case I preferred roughing it and using my ingenuity to make things easier. I was always reading and thinking about the early pioneer days and imagining myself a part of it.
This frustration (of having been born thirty years too late) was alleviated to some extent by filing on a homestead in southwestern New Mexico. There I lived alone for months at a time, almost ninety miles from Magdalena, the nearest town and trading center, and eight miles from my nearest neighbor.
I think of my coming to New Mexico as one of the most important, most satisfying, and most fulfilling events of my entire life.
Our family: (from left) George, Anabel, Dad holding Van, Red behind Dad, Mother, Christine (sister)