Today isn’t a special day, it’s just another day living in the American West with dreams to guide me.
Today isn’t a special day, it’s just another day living in the American West with dreams to guide me.
We drove around all god damn day trying to find a place to wash our clothes, but all the laundry places were full. After a week of apocalyptic weather and survival, i guess i’m not surprised. We were lucky to make it through the week. We didn’t get a chance to buy food or get anything ready before the weather turned foul. Reckon we didn’t anticipate anything worse than Wyoming winter but we failed to recognise that South East Texas isn’t prepared for this type of thing. We had the boil water warning and two days of black outs but thats about the extent of our misery. We read by oil lamp and we read by daylight. Thankfully there was a dog, a cat and a Jack to keep me warm. And a sweet nordic oven we’ve been carrying around since New England. Our clothes still aren’t washed and we still dont have groceries but that’s what we’ll take care of tomorrow.
Remember that old saddle i bought for $25 dollars that looked like hell, well here it is after i finished refurbished it. The decorative metals still need a little gluing and setting but its pretty much done. I’m planning on trading it with the rescue Hidalgo and Lorie are at for something bigger. They’re looking for a smaller saddle and i want something bigger. So that’ll work out great for us both. They fitting their saddles to Lorie to see what might work best. Sadly i’ve had to put off getting the horses home for a while as it doesn’t feel like its the right time due to my recent diagnosis. Until i feel thats under control i think it would be unfair to bring there here incase i can’t keep up taking care of them. I know i can but right now i can barely wake up for work let alone at 4:30 am to take care of them and everyone else. But we’ll see how it goes. I feel that theyre both mine and i would be DEVASTATED if they were sold to someone else. So right now the rescue and i are trying to find the best solution. Jack and i discussed waiting til we had a truck to haul a trailer so maybe that’ll be what we’ll do. I just hope i can make some extra money to help it come along faster. But it’s gotta be the best for the animals.
Horses are a huge responsibility, and i know that. Its something i’ve been thinking about since i was 8 and waited 5 hours outside someones farm to ask if i could help with their horses in exchange for riding lessons. Everyday i would hang around to see if they’d show up. It was before i had a phone so it was about catching when they’d show up at their farm to go help. Tragic. Since that day i have struggled, taken a lot of shit from horse people in different countries just for the chance to be around the horses for 10 minutes in the morning and 10 minutes in the evening and now i feel like my own chance to have them is slipping away. I’ll be cruel to be honest, i dont care if i never see Denmark again. I dont mind being fixed in one place to have this dream. They’re worth it to me, and everything is able to be figured out. I’ve spent my life moving around and traveling, im ready to stay at home and feel at home. Im kinda done waiting for that part of my life to start. Im kinda done travelling for other people only to feel it wasn’t worth the $3000. *Shrugs*
But as i said, its a huge responsibility. If i have to wait a little longer so be it because i’d like to be sure it wont be an economic catastrophe. Anyway, all that aside. We’ve had a week off and it was so exhausting it felt like no time at all. It was hard work and taxing to have to find ways to survive the circumstances. We were very lucky to have it the way we did, but for the first time ever i was cursing the snow and wishing it away. It was typical i had a week off like i wanted but didn’t write almost at all, but im still struggling to find that middle of writing and reading at home. Im also surprisingly awful and slow at thinking up a climax for a story. I usually word vomit till something sticks.
I noticed today that my house looks like a perfect mix of western & nordic & a little nautical, something i always wanted and poof! it randomly happened that way. What does your decor look like? Do you have theme? And here are some pictures of my new kitten Alma, she’s around 4 months old and has a real personality.
Dandelion root is good for a lot of things, tastes like chocolate with hints of black coffee — black like the sole of my feet in the summer time; if ever it comes around again you’ll see. I’m sitting here resting my night after a day of cleaning, filming an instagram reel for outlaw and trying to get things done between blackouts. LeDoux is walking around in circles on the couch trying to find that perfect sweet spot to send him straight to sleep. All the while i’m thinking on reading and how it’ll impact my writing. With the rest of the week at my disposal i hope i can get my ass to sit and write.
Y’all know i desperately wanted to go to the Wyoming School of Horseshoeing. I was devastated when covid destroyed my plans and that i didn’t get a chance to do it before we had to leave to go back to Texas. Well, one door and one window later. I found a course i can start as soon as next week! It’s not horseshoeing on a bison farm but its natural barefoot trimming with mustang/wild horses hooves as the main model. Living in Wyoming i also realised that i might not be as sold on horse shoes as i am on barefoot ponies. Each has its place but i get excited at the prospect of trimming rather than hammering in the shoes with big ol’ nails. That’s gotta mean something.
And maybe thats why Wyoming horse shoeing didn’t workout, because it wasn’t meant to.
However, we’ll see how i fare with this course and whether or not i think barefoot trimming could be for me. Never know — maybe this could be a career one day or at least a bit of pocket money.
Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well. Everything is as it always is here. So this evening i was looking a log cabins for inspiration for my “dream home” that i’ll have on my “dream ranch.” And i decided to created a pinterest wall here on the blog so you could see what i’m thinking. Do you have ideas for your dreamhome? Are you doing anything to try and achieve said goal? Maybe you already have your dream home. We’re all at different stages and thats just fine. Now that we’re back in Texas we’re a step closer to getting our own place. We just need to get a truck first. I kinda wanted to get a place in Wyoming but land in Wyoming is not cheap whereas in Texas land is a plentiful and we can have a western ranch near the coast. Jack and i love sailing too and island vibes so this way perhaps we can have a bit of all of it.
We’ve found a place that we’d really like to purchase land one day if the option ever arose for jobs, and thats down near Galveston, Texas. Beautiful land, close to the coast and QUIET. It’s perfect. Everytime we’re down their we fall in love with the place like its the first time. Its not Laramie Wyoming, but nothing ever will be. One day when i’m a famous writer and making some extra money maybe we’ll move up to Sheridan Wyo. or something. Who knows. We never stay any place too long. As long as the ponies and the cat and dog are with us, we’re good. Below is a picture that shows almost exactly the style of cabin/decor i want in my own home. I’d change out the rug on the wall for some saddle blankets and take out the couch. I’d have my saddle in there, an armchair with a cow-skin blanket and a couple of Danish decor pieces here and there.
I just love the old cabin look & rustic feel. I want to live easy and quiet, with a barn for the horses — and a coral outside. A tiki outside area for when Jack is going to grill for us. The two indoor photographs are from a Swedish log cabin and it looks similar to what a Danish one would look like too.
We’d still have the modern enmities such as air conditioning, plumbing and so forth of course but it’ll be cool to be able to film westerns in our actual home if we wanted to.
As you can guess we’ll be building our own place if all goes to plan, and i can’t even imagine how much work that entails but i think we can make it happen, and we’ll enjoy the experience together. I just hope i dont get itchy feet one day and decide i want to leave Texas and run back to Wyoming or maybe to Nevada. Though with me we’ll never know. I don’t know myself well enough to say a thing for sure.
I hope you enjoyed my little pinterest wall of what kind of house i want. What does you dream house look like?
Well, my time came, there in the gulch of rotting gold mines, smoke and dead wood i turned the ripened age of twenty eight. I don’t feel any older. I dont’ feel aged at all. I reckon i’ll stop recognising my birthday as time goes on, feels a little like i’m living on a timer. It’s not an attempt to escape the daunting journey of old age and perspiring into the casket — more a case of saving my brain from feeling like its got so much to accomplish and far too little time to do it in. I don’t expect to grow old much anyhow.
This year my birthday was something out of this world, something more fitting of the old world we all left behind — a world most of us choose to forget because we’re too scared to face how cruel we could be. Jack surprised me with a trip to Deadwood, South Dakota, a place i’d always wanted to see. I wanted to walk to the badlands, sculk around Chinatown and stay at the Bullock Hotel on Mainstreet with its ghosts and windows looking into the old thoroughfare. All of which we did. Together the best way i know how to be.
We rode the Cheyenne to Deadwood Stagecoach around town and made fast friends with the drivers. They asked us to move into the house down the street and start working the town with them. And that was only the first hours of our first full day, my birthday. We found a new favourite haunt in the Wild Bill Bar, the original number 10 lot on discovery where Wild Bill Hickok was shot by Jack McCall, with a buckboard full of dead animals nailed to the wall and red lantern lights hanging from the embellished bar frame; we couldn’t resist the place. I hope to make it there often even though it’ll soon be nine to twelve hours away. I shall never forget my life, though brief, when it was in South Dakota.
We visited Mount Moriah where Hickok, Calamity Jane and many other familiar names rest in peace, at least for the most part. Seth Bullock and his wife rest on top of the hill (its actually a god damn mini mountain haha), forever looking over Teddy’s tower somewhere beneath trees on the other side of the gulch. It was murder for me getting up that damn hill but it was worth it, i of course insisted on wearing my finery, to see my sweet Calamity and pay my respects to her and her supposed lover of time gone by, all of which consisted of boots, linen shirt with long sleeves, my good felt hat and my best jeans.
I see a lot of myself in Martha Canary. I suppose all my years i always had been a little different. I cut off my hair and i dressed as boy for most of my youth, and even once my hair grew back, and to this day, im still largely mistaken for a man. The cussing and such dont much help on that account. All this while i was dreaming of living in a place where it always felt free and everything else was unnecessary. It was a dream i didn’t believe would come true. The difference between her and i, is that my choice of self neglect is not juicing the corn, i have long since made the decision not to drink but that didn’t hold up all that long in Deadwood. No. Its a place where the folks are good, the nights are something to aware of but the Black Hills are scared land and i have never in my life seen anything as beautiful. There were fresh water creeks laced with wild bank flowers of all colours. Red deer danced and pranced through life all safe and fine. A little ways away you’ll even see mountains and hills full of buffalo. Right now their babies are all red, small and unsteady but perfect. Anyway, Calamity to me is who i am by day, all cussing and unladylike. However when my depressive state and sad sad suicidal ideations take over i believe i become more like Joanie Stubbs. Thats what i’ve named the dark side of my life. Joanie and Jane. I don’t mean that in some weird fan obsession in regards to the show or movie, i mean that as a survivor and that is something that helps me keep on.
Deadwood for me was always going to be a game changer, i just had that feeling you know? And in my previous blogpost where i mention coming to the end of our travelling days, the end of finding some foreign state to live in being done. Well i don’t know. I could move yesterday to be amongst the Black Hills. Its holy ground to the Indians, the red nation, whatever they prefer. We’ve caused a lot of harm on that land, any land, but to me that land is a powerful, a spiritual place and something i can never un-feel. It all lives there on those hills. Though we may never move there, its a place to come as often as a wage allows.
Theres something wild and strange about meeting real like minded people who just fit into your life like puzzle pieces created millions of miles apart. The folks doing the street and bar shows took to us quick and fast. They were all like us and they impressed us as i believe we impressed them. I never have had the feeling that i wanted to interact with people, because i always felt that my head and my heart were some place else. Somewhere i’d never find anyone worth talking to who was the same. But i found folks in Texas, and i sure as shit found some in Deadwood to boot.
For now i believe thats all i have. Im trying to juggle a lot lately. Training LeDoux, working full time, packing house, keeping appointments and writing and reading. Sadly i dont believe i’ll have my photo editing time till im in my new place in Texas. We’ll see.