ronald hudson
Photo of the Day – The New Cover I Sewed for the Wagon
Legging Polly up for the Next Mule Ramble
Happy Sunday morning. I recently hooked my mule Polly to the wagon I borrowed from my good buddy Ronald Hudson.
I bought Polly from Ronald about 15 years ago and she’s still going amazingly strong. In addition to pulling my wagon from… Continue reading
Is a Mare Mule or Horse Mule Better?
A lot of folks I know that have experience with mules prefer mare mules over horse mules. A mare mule is a female mule, also called a “molly” mule. A horse mule is a male mule and is also called a “john” mule. So what’s better for you, a mare mule or a horse mule?
Mare mules have a reputation among old-timers for being a little easier to handle than horse mules. When I look at the mules that my… Continue reading
Farmers Day in Robbins NC: Mules, Wagons and Faces
A teamster, a parade and a mule. This weekend mule Polly and I hung out with Ronald Hudson at Farmers Day in Robbins, NC. He and I were in the parade and I made some photos I thought you’d enjoy. They’re loosely in the order they happened.
Ronald’s Borrowed Vomit Saddle Bags
It started pouring with rain and in minutes I was soaked. As was Buddy, the mule I was sitting on. And coming from Polly, my pack mule, a noxious, air sick smell. Damn, maybe Ronald was right. Maybe someone really had puked in to those duffel bags he’d loaned me.
Pack Saddle Temptation: Nearly Running Away with Mules Polly and Buddy
Mule Polly never was intended to be a pack mule. The mule that I drove from Canada to Mexico and across Newfoundland has made it clear she doesn’t count carrying a pack saddle among her duties. Last time she was doing the beast of burden thing, she ran away, crashed her packs into some trees and high-tailed it to camp. Ronald Hudson, Polly’s last owner, had warned me she was ticklish about the subject.
This weekend I could take it… Continue reading
Seek Work: A Mule Wagon Ramble in Search of Day Jobs
Then came the day I realized I was 45, my dad was almost twice that and I needed a job. Cash money baby. The folding kind. Not the kind that gets electronically deposited into your account on Friday. No, for that you need to commute and smell nice and tuck in your shirt.
The lifestyle that Polly and I had chosen just wasn’t up for that zeros and ones kind of monetary lifestyle.
Party in the Batch
The RiverEarth.com corporate headquarters on a frosty morning. The smoke comes from the wood stove.
This weekend I threw the corporate RiverEarth.com Christmas party. You know. That dreaded event where you stand around with your work mates out of obligation not desire. Kiddie-size glasses of red dyed drink in your hand. Not a drop of hooch in there because, you know, Corporate reserved the ball room and it doesn’t look good when Rupert in accounting gets sauced and does the… Continue reading
