a beautiful night sky

Hello everyone! Its 6.26pm Saturday night and its black as a cave drop outside already. Winter is definitely here.
It’s been a lazy day just puttering around the apartment sorting through clothes, books etc. I really want to downsize the things I have. One reason is to make moving so much simpler and two because I just hating having so much random “stuff.” Maybe its since I’ve moved across the world and I realize what material things matter and which don’t, on the other hand it might the hole Danish thing of hating clutter. Which I do. With a passion.
Anyway as I was tucking into some old pizza this afternoon I saw these orange sun lined clouds flying across the sky, and I ran out to the balcony to watch them go. The cold wind smacked me in the face like an angry ex-boyfriend.
I gave Jack my “I MUST PHOTOGRAPH THAT” look, pulled on my jeans, vintage sweater and some snow boots — Jack pulled on clothes and flip flops. Resulting in him almost losing all his toes, because its cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.
And so we chased the sun down as we burned daylight.
He’s so lovely to let me follow my soul wherever it takes me, and knowing that he’ll always be right there next to me.
He’s made of diamonds that one.

Recently everything has been changing, but finally things seem to be finding their way. I work a job I enjoy with nice people, and it’ll do for now, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I need more. I want to shoe horses. I want to be in the crows nest with the sails beneath me full as a fat baby at breakfast. I want to draw western scapes filled with bluebonnets and longhorns. I want to ride. To have a farm. I want to photograph all the hours of my day away. I want to act on the stages I built with my bare hands. I want to make people laugh and forget how terrible the world can seem.
I’m not made like everyone else. I’m made of earth, stones and sea water all held within a fox hide. I live in the land of dreams and I’ll chase them. So for now i’m glad things have settled, and that I have time to process things that need processing, but I can’t wait to get back to where I feel I need to be — Texas. The sooner the better. It’s the last place I felt truly inspired and apart of something. I can always grasp at nature, but when you live somewhere that doesn’t call to you — there’s only one thing to do and that’s get up and go to where they wind blows you.  So here’s hoping next year that we’re out of New England.
It’s time to start living. I wear my boots and my Stetson with pride. I need to feel that old dust under my feet as my heel growls on the gravel. I want to film the Texas sunrise and watch the deer running.


This evening was such a perfect moment. Watching the clouds roll by, the dark looming in and being with my best friend laughing; talking about nothing.
Just what I needed.
How did you spend your Saturday night?

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semi-tender age of 26


I’m still desperately in love, and I’ve been lucky to be so utterly and truly happy. So much so that I’ve developed a smile line at the semi-tender age of 26. Probably also the only line in my face to date and one I wear so damn proudly (apart from the perplexed hook I also sport above my left eye from being so truly flabbergasted at the youth of today, as well as the many impressions and funny faces I’ve pulled). However, In that smile line are the moments the three of us have laughed, travelled and completely lived. Happy memories. Many sunbeams. 5 Star jokes from me and the dad jokes from Jack, Basil pretending he’s not paying attention. Yes, though I am so deeply lost these days. Having lost my beautiful Basil and a sweet souled relative of mine whom I loved dearly in the same month, after not having been able to cope with the loss of my Grand father from last year — today I can say that though I may not be entirely happy or without ill feeling, I can say that I can see the possibility of living on from now. And that’s all I have. Though I am so tired from lack of sleeping, sore from weeping and have lost about 15lbs. Its been a heavy couple of blog posts recently and i’m not sorry for that. Life is not sunshine and rainbows, and we don’t pussyfoot here on my blog. We say it as it is because other wise it’s not worth saying at all.

I only smile like this at the thought of pizza, which I’m going to persuade Jack to buy tonight. Pizza with bacon. Also posting this so my mum knows I’m not hanging from a rafter somewhere. 

ah’maze’ing

I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to write a blog post over these last few days now. I desperately want to write something and blog, because I was getting better at doing it on a semi-regular basis but sometimes life gets in the way. Therefore, I will just share pictures with you from a Sunday afternoon of adventuring with Jack in a cornmaze. It was ah”amaze”ing wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more.
Just to show that no everyday is such a battle.













pulling a Captain Call

“He didn’t tell him that even when life seemed easy, it kept on getting harder.”

“Well you could always pull a Captain Call,” – Matt LeBlanc, my maid of honor and our best friend said when we told him how upset we were that Basil died in New England.
A place that isn’t home to any of us. As always, that man is a gift to us and I don’t think he realizes it.
I’ve never thought about where I’ll die, because it never mattered to me whether I lived or not. I figure when I die my bones will be where they lay. I’ll be dust to the wind and no one will mourn because they’ll know how free I am. However, with Basil it always mattered. If I could change one thing I would have walked Basil back to Texas, even if it meant walking right through my shoes. Every stone making me wince but my bloody feet would have carried us home no matter what.

“It’s like I told you last night son. The earth is mostly just a boneyard. But pretty in the sunlight, he added,”
Augustus McCrae.

Everything went so fast and suddenly. Just a month ago he was still playing, running and being the beagle he always has been. He never stopped wanting to play, but by the end he just couldn’t. I wanted so desperately for him to feel the warmth of the Texas sunset on his face again, to roll around in the hottest and most dangerous grass of America again — where we all felt safe. After all. Basil was a Texas boy just like Jack. I do wonder if bringing him home in time would have changed anything, but realistically his legs would still have begun to drag, so I don’t know that it could’ve helped — but we all loved Texas. So it just might have.

“I’m glad I’ve been wrong enough to keep in practice. . . You can’t avoid it, you’ve got to learn to handle it. If you only come face to face with your own mistakes once or twice in your life it’s bound to be extra painful. I face mine every day–that way they ain’t usually much worse than a dry shave.”
Augustus McCrae.

Those who know me intimately know that I am to be cremated with my favorite book, Lonesome Dove. Jack bought Lonesome Dove for me from goodwill telling me “its a classic and you have to read it.” I remember the day we bought it. We’d had double Daves pizza with bacon and pepperoni, rummaged around goodwill and then ended up in Hobby lobby as we often do.
He didn’t tell me it would change my life. That it would shake every bone in my body and be the worst book hang over I have ever experienced in my entire life.
It took me a while to get around to reading it, because my reading list is from here to everywhere; but I started reading it a few months before we made our big move up north, I read it along the way and I finished it in our first months in our new place.  Six months it took me. We were making as big a trip as they were in the book. It is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. Just like Gus — Basil’s legs were ultimately the death of him. I didn’t realize that our ending would be somewhat the same, but it fits that Basil was our Gus McCrae. Because of the two I am definitely Woodrow.
Basil was a wonderful reminder that things can be good and life is precious we just have to realize it. Things aren’t always as bad as they seem.

“It ain’t dying I’m talking about, it’s living. I doubt it matters where you die, but it matters where you live.” Spoken by Augustus McCrae. 

A memory that I cherish, that I have secretly treasured all these years is from when we lived in bum fuck Egypt Texas, in the little red brick house with snakes in the piping… where frogs in the yard were the size of a finger nail. The army of coyotes that we lived with sang us to sleep every night and where Basil got addicted to meth.

“The stars in Texas could have been taken from Van Gogh’s Starry night. They shine like crystals freckled across a deep velvet sky and are laced in a fluff of cloud. They bring the coyotes to song and lullaby bluejays to sleep. Crickets hum and tweak somewhere in the brush. When I looked up I was surrounded by a circle of what seemed the worlds tallest trees. The moon danced delicately around; being kissed by stars as it swung by. How small I was here. I was so far from anything familiar. Yet, I think I found it. “It.” What many never find in a lifetime, I found by the time I was 20.
I found me, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t find me in Texas.

So here I stand staring at the sky holding his hand: stars rolling on and time passing. Mosquitoes buzzing and bleeding us dry. Texas taught me that freedom does exist you just have to find it: whether it’s riding in the dusty brush or sitting at the bar with two southern gentlemen talking about absolutely nothing. Jack taught me how to find happiness in the darkest corners, how to fight for love and how to make tacos. Now I’m living in a wild and dangerous country, and everything is trying to eat me alive. Its true, Texas made a woman out of me and I wouldn’t change a thing.” 

This was taken from a previous piece I wrote about moving to Texas, and this is the memory that I have been visiting. It wounds me but its a place that I can escape to because it was a moment where there was peace, and we had everything ahead of us. We were three. Though Basil is not mentioned, he is in there. You just have to look. In every word. Every breath. Every single letter — he’s in there somewhere. As much apart of the words as the stars above us or the air we breathed. He was at our feet watching the stars just as we were. Watching us. Knowing probably that one day we’d be ok when he wasn’t around. That little comfort didn’t know how big he was. Truly. That boy could carry the world on his shoulders. He is the tank you wanna ride into war, because he will carry you out. Every time. And he’ll never complain. But he’ll be there. Taking every bullet and every piece of shrapnel.

So as our final thank you to you Basil, we’ll carry you home to Texas. Just as Woodrow Call carried Gus McCrea. We made a promise, and though others may find it stupid or too much for “just a dog”, it was a promise made in utter love. I would do it for Jack and I would do it for you. We’ll take you back to where the stars are so big you could pick them. Where we all were so happy, even through our growing pains. Where we were all so young, so stupid and ready to get out and live. That’s where we’ll all go — and we’ll go together. Like always.

How stupid we were to want to get out and live, when we were already dreaming.

“Yesterday’s gone on down the river and you can’t get it back.”
Augustus McCrae.

Live through it,” Call said. “That’s all we can do.”