Other Cool Reads
“There’s no water in the kitchen sink,” my wife Julia told me recently and I knew it was one of two things. Our water comes from a spring behind our cabin. Either a salamander or a crayfish had gotten stuck in the plumbing or the cistern that gathered the spring water was empty.
It’s my birfday and i’m sittin’ in the holler ponderin’ my next move.
My mom used to point them out to us as kids. We’d be walking through the forest in western North Carolina and she’d point down at an orange mushroom and say, “Lueg. As Aeyer Schweumli”. “Lueg” means “look” in Swiss German, her native language. Aeyer Schweumli is what she used to call chanterelles. *
My brother Christian recalls a… Continue reading
Recently, my wife Julia and I exercised our small herd of three mules and one pony all at once. I thought you might enjoy a few photos of how we did it.
Usually, when you think of saddle riding, you think of a person sitting in the saddle riding… Continue reading
A while back my wife Julia and I pulled the steel horseshoes on her pony Pie’s front feet. I thought you’d be interested how we’re transitioning her (Pie, not Julia) to bare feet. From here on out, she’ll go barefoot. For extra protection Pie might need on rocky trails or abrasive surfaces like asphalt, we’ll slap on a pair of hoof boots.
Happy 2022. Here are a few photos from ’21 that made me smile. I wish you all the best in the New Year.
A kind soul rescued him from a herd of eighty feral horses, some of which were starved, others of which had broken legs. And yet, he survived. Read the amazing story of Magneto the Magnificent, my wife Julia’s new horse, at her blog Saddle Under the Stars.
A while back, Julia and I rode spent six weeks traveling with two saddle and one pack mule from our farm in western North Carolina to Virginia and back. We posted a lot of stories on this trip but here’s one I never got around to sharing with you.
Julia was riding a mule named Dusty we’d borrowed from our friend Ronald Hudson. I was riding my mule Brick. As… Continue reading
Snookie was imperfect like the rest of us. This week he was put to sleep under our chestnut tree. Julia wrote him a beautiful obit at her ConsideringAnimals.com blog. It starts “He was comfort. He was afraid of thunder.” He also channeled Keith Richards and sometimes drank too much whiskey. Check out the full obit at: ConsideringAnimals.com.
He started life in a ditch, could out-howl a tin coyote and cleaned a skillet better than a scrub pad. Today, his life ended under our chestnut tree. Our dog Snookie is gone. My wife Julia and I are torn up over this. The longer story of his life is coming.