Arrival on the O RO

We got back from Arizona Sunday night really late and Monday, I woke up and felt awful. After getting home from Tony’s parents’ house (where we stayed when we got back, as they live fairly close to the airport), I went to bed and spent most of the day there. Today I had to get to work early, so today is really the first chance I’ve had to write. Sorry for the delay. On with the story.

We got to Arizona the same day as Aunt Jane’s brother John. He was there for a couple of days for some legal business (as a kind of advisor) and he rode the horse I really like (Paycheck). That was okay. I rode Crockett, who has really short legs and has to trot to keep up with everyone else. But his trot is much easier to ride than Paycheck’s. But since we didn’t get to ride on Sunday, it doesn’t really matter, I suppose.

Nina’s mom was at the ranch, I guess to see Nina and her new baby. Monica, Nina’s mom, ended up staying and working for the summer as cook. She made German-type food, I guess, mixed with “normal” American-type food. I don’t really know how to categorize it. Anyway, it was good. She was really creative, but she used a lot of potatoes. And those things worked together a little. She’d hide the potatoes, so the only reason I actually got tired of the potatoes was because I knew they were there, and not because I was tired of the potato-y taste.

The sounds here are a welcome change. It wasn’t too long after we got here, the horses started talking a little. They weren’t being obnoxious, but just enough to say, “Hello.” The cows were talking among themselves like, “Gee, I wish they’d stop driving through here. I just get settled into a routine when they go blasting past again.” The bugs have been chirping and whirring and singing ever since we got into Prescott.

The bus ride (or van, if you prefer) from Phoenix to Prescott was interesting. The guy who was driving the shuttle didn’t ever stop talking. And when he told stories, he’d mix everything up so much that I’d forget what he was trying to say in the first place. It’d be silent, then he’d be like, “I don’t think you’re old enough…I’m not old enough to remember.” Then he’d take like 45 seconds, then say, “The silent movies…there was an actor.” [pause] “In the silent movies. The silver screen.” [pause] “Tom Mix.” (Or Minx, or something…I forget) “He used to have a ranch up in here.” It was kind annoying he always wanted to fill the silence with things he knew, but it was like, “Would you please tell me what you want to tell me, or I’ll forget what you already told me trying to get to the point of the story.” Anyway, I suppose it’s not nice, but you’ll have to forgive me, as I was really tired when I wrote that and I don’t really remember much any other way.


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