G.B. Madison

G.B. Madison
The Wild Ol' Okie Boy

Friday, November 27, 2009

THE TEXANS page 53

THE NORTHERN CAMPSITE, LOCATED SEVEN MILES NORTH OF ASH FORK, ARIZONA.

I was camped in Ludwig atop the White Elephant quarry until G.B. could bring the pink trailer north from the Sun Valley Pink quarry. I pondered how to use the day.

G.B. was busy with special order customers - the Cotters, ranchers from Texas. They were building a large stone house on their cattle ranch and they had come to Ash Fork to order finishing touches - white flagstone for their floor to ceiling fireplace and stone for their mantle and hearth.

I felt hot and discomforted. Ludwig was messy, London was dusty and I was grimey. I decided to clean and hauled out my blankets, pillows and the narrow sheet of plywood that served as my bed. Out flew the cooler and canteens. London settled himself on the pile of blankets while I continued to pull things out of the van. After unloading almost everything I was too tired and hot to continue. I decided to finish it all in the cool of the evening.

For a change of pace I settled myself on the shady side of Ludwig and called London over to be groomed. As I pulled the brush through his fur removing burrs, goat-heads, grass seeds and twigs, I thought, with G.B. busy for the day and no one working in the quarry, it is a perfect opportunity to dye my hair.

I lined up the hair dye, shampoo, conditioner and jugs of sun warmed water. When it came to ablutions in a campsite, I was a well practiced expert from all the years of camping I had done. I donned an old dye stained shirt, which suggested I had slathered it with red dye and after waiting the required time, I rinsed out the dye, by pouring the jugs of water through my hair until it ran clear.
I squeezed out the excess water, straightened up, pulled my hair back from my face and saw the company pick-up rolling to a stop in front of me. G.B. was grinning with mischievous pleasure and to my horror, beside him were the smiling faces of the special customers from Texas.

Omar, a tall impressive Texan wearing a big Stetson hat, western styled clothes and fine custom made cowboy boots, climbed out of the pick- up. He was followed by his wife, Cleo, who was tall, beautiful and chic.

"Charle, y'all guess who these people are." G.B. ordered with glowing enthusiasm. Before I could reply, Cleo hurried over to me saying, "Oh y'all are G.B.'s Canadian painter lady! It's so nice to meet y'all. G.B. just talks and talks about y'all." Her smile and gracious words set me at ease immediatly.

Omar slowly ambled over to me, stuck out his hand to shake mine and said, "G.B. shore is proud a' y'all."

While we stood talking, y'alls flew 'round and 'round our heads.

That evening we all met in Williams, twenty miles east of Ash Fork. G.B suggested dinner at Rod's Steak House and Omar concurred by stating, "The only steaks worth eatin', this side a' Texas."

By nightfall we four had started a devoted friendship that could be interupted only by God.


G.B. AND THE STRANGE CANADIAN PAINTER LADY by Charlotte Madison and Nana Cook copyright 1994





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