Johnnys Journal. (the spelling is his--the punctuation is mine, to keep it comprehensible)
Now with an update.
This is Scott's idea. Sez it will stop me gettin' so bored. Not shore what he knows about gettin' bored. He can read sum book or other fer hours--me-I can't do that. I can read OK--s'long as theres not too many fancy long words-- but not a whole book. So Scott sijested that I keep a jurnal. Seems I'm gonna be stuck in this blastid bed for awile-bustid a leg pretty bad-Doc has ewsed some fancy new stuff called plaster--makes a real hevy splint-and gettin' around in it is damned awkad. Scott says I shud rite down each day what I do--that aint hard-not much I can do with this leg all wrapped up in this stuff-and what I think about things. He sez that no wun will reed it 'sept me. I hope not.
Mudoch has mooved the bed sum so I can see out the window. Funny how he seems ter like me better wen I'm sick, tho he duz git cross if I git restless. Leg hurts sum now-my fawlt-I wuz tryin' to stand up on it. S'posed to take sum med'sin to stop the pain-but the pain's better'n that stuff. Makes me so I can't think strate. Not sure about my spellin'. Mite ask Scott about sum of these words. Spellin' sure can be funny. Murdoch wud like it if I cood spell better.
They wuz all down by the corral-Murdoch, Scott, Traysa and some of the crew. There wuz three new foals havin' a rare ol' time down there. Wish I wuz down there too. Glad Murdoch mooved the bed. That bay mare is kinda nice and her filly mooves just fine. Mite make a nice ridin' horse for Traysa later on. Hey--shudda seen that sorell colt kick up his heels. Scott likes him a lot. I wish Murdoch wood do sum horse tradin'--I cood train 'em up real good for him too-but he just yells and sez this is a cattle ranch. He sure duz like them ornery critters. I spose they made him rich. Seems a funny noshun don't it. Johhny Madrid having a rich Pa. Wish I cood call him Pa-but it just dont cum out. Scott wood like to call him Pa too, I reckon--but that just dont seem to cum out eether. He's a funny ol' cuss, is Murdoch. Never no, from one minit to the next, where y'are with him. He paid them Pinkertons -I asked Scott to rite that down fer me first- all them dollars to find me--then he ax like he wishes I wern't here sumtimes. No-its Madrid he dont want here-but I cant jest stop bein' who I am. Murdoch don't understand that-and I dont no how to 'splain it. Scott cood--but I dont no how to 'splain it to him neether.
Dunno if this is the rite way to keep a jurnal. P'raps I shud say how I bust my leg. Wuzn't my fawlt. Wuzn't even driving the damn wagon. Fool horse shied and the trace snapped. Wagon went over the eje and I went with it. Bust my rite leg. Doc says it will mend OK. I hope so. Scott made a stretcher to haul me back up to the top. Boy-wuz that wun hurtful haul. Never any lordnum handy when you need it.
Murdoch sez now that he's gonna moove the road so it don't go over that hi narrer bit anymore-seems itz not the furst time a wagon's gon over there. Dunno how you moove a road.
Gonna stop ritin' now. Makes my rist ake. Scott wuz rite tho'. Makes the time go real fast. Sumwun will be fetchin' me up sum lunch any time now. Soon I hope. Ritin' shore is hungry work.
Diary: Johnny's Journal: about a year later. Updated Jan 2007
(if anyone wants any of the entries from in between I am sure I can find them somewhere)
I can't believe I am still doing this journal stuff after all this time but it gets to be a habit.
I no longer write every day-just when there’s something to say-but today I was looking through a drawer for something and I found that old pad that I started when I broke my leg. It makes for interesting reading-spelling and grammar apart.
Some things haven't changed at all. Madrid still gets in the way of things and I still don't know how to do anything about it--except maybe get myself killed. Murdoch would still get mad at me for that, I daresay and Scott wouldn't be happy about it either. Can't say it appeals much here neither. Life is good right now.
I still think Murdoch likes me better when i'm sick. Last time the doc came he said something about all the profits going on my doctors fees, but I think he was joking. I sure hope so.
Me and Scott still can't call the old man 'pa'. Scott still calls him sir. I do sometimes-usually when I know I'm in trouble. Seems to calm him down. We still lock horns--I guess we both have shocking tempers. I do try--I really do-but he makes it very hard sometimes. Still we are all still here together and the spread is running at a profit--so something must be going right. He still won't consider horse trading though. There’s money in it-but neither Scott nor me--or is that I-this grammar stuff still confuses me and i still think spelling is 'funny'--can talk him round yet. He doesn't yell about it anymore-just says no, with that stubborn look on his face. Last time he did say 'Not yet'. Scott seemed to think that was progress.
The road was 'mooved'(did I really write that?)--it now runs down hill aways and curves around below the bluff where the wagon went over and I broke my leg. That healed just fine. Doc's plaster cast did the trick alright--but oh boy did it ever itch under there and when the thing came off my leg was all white and weak. Had to do exercises -had to look that one up in Scott’s word book- to strengthen it back up. Best exercise was getting back on a horse if you ask me-but of course nobody did. Scott made me do the exercises--I think at heart my nice kind polite civilised big brother from back east is nothing more than a bully. No--just kidding. He's a great guy and he really does care about me. Sometimes too much I think. I wish I knew whether Murdoch cared as much. I still can't tell. Sometimes I think we're getting along just fine-and then he turns on me something hard. Sometimes I don't even know why. Him and Scott get along together real well. I wish I knew how to make it different-not him and Scott-me and Murdoch. I guess I keep trying.
I can now spell 'Theresa' properly-and lots of other things. Scott showed me how to use a word book, its called a dictionary , so I can check things I ain't sure of-although there are some words it don't work for. Seems that there are some words that you just can't look up, if you don't know how to spell 'em already.
Like 'physical'. There was me looking under 'f'. It was Murdoch set me right on that one. He has never said so-but I think he is pleased that I set to with this writing and reading. I can now write quite a good business letter. I don't have many folks to write any other kind to. I wonder if I should write one to Murdoch. Sometimes it seems it's easier to write things down than to say them. I wonder if he would even read it.
I know Scott keeps a journal. Boy-I wish I could see it. I bet its all neat and proper with dates and everything, not just a scruffy notebook like mine.
I wonder what he puts in it though. Guess I'll never know. A journal is a private thing isn't it.