could you close your flap so i don’t fore go my boiled eggs?

It was a quiet weekend here with us. We’ve taken walks away from everyone, and right now Jack is taking care of the shopping whilst i sit in the car to limit the chances of covid exposure. I don’t mind all that much because i dislike shopping — Walmart being mostly the only option. Since we’ve been staying at home most of the time i’ve been finishing projects and starting new ones. Lately i’ve started playing a new instrument, i’ve been finishing knitting projects for etsy and have the mind to work some on my novel writing and dreading the search for rejecting literary agents. I’ve also started working on digital drawing using photoshop (which is a lot harder than it sounds). I’ve already worked on a few logos and tshirt designs for the horse revival i volunteer with. Next week we’re going out to pick up a new mustang from northern Wyoming. I’m pretty excited and pleased, because we tried to go get the poor thing last week and were sure it was going to get shot in the field due to ridiculous issues. However, it seems we’ll get another chance to go and get him next week. Fingers crossed.


As for staying home and the social distancing, i like it. I’ve always crossed the road when someone can my direction on a walk – so thats not new. I actually think i get a lot more done at home, i’m more productive even since my job has become crazy during this entire pandemic started and again, fitting in the writing is the tough part.
I also called Pat today, my good old sailing friend, i’ve been meaning to call him for weeks now but i hadn’t got around to it. How we talked and laughed like old times, it was so good for my bones. I can continue a little longer. We talked about boats Jack and i might buy to live on one day when we return to Texas. We laughed about forepeaks and i was honoured when i found that one of the lines i’d made for his sails was still holding strong — one of his prized possessions he said. That is a great compliment from a galant man of the sea. I don’t have friends as such, i’m a very internal person. I’ll perform for an audience but i wont talk to them after. So you can imagine how important he is to me.

I think thats about all from me, i’ve been suffering from a ghastly headache all day and night, so i think i’ll see goodbye and hope you write more when i feel better.

Stay safe and stay home..

a navajo pipe

It hasn’t been the best few weeks for me. I’ve felt stuck in a hole where the walls crumbled and fell as i tried to climb out. I almost stopped bothering to clutch at another clump of soil, because it felt pointless. As you know by my last post we took a trip to Indian Head mountain — the most beautiful mountain in New England. We visited a stored before we started on the journey home. I filtered through the cheap trinkets, the badly printed “been there — done that” t-shirts and the air reeked of stale incense from years of neglect. The store was filled with frivolous moose clutter clumps and offensive smelling scented candles from the underground version of Yankee candle. As i turned a corner from the copper folded post cards, on an old wooden rack was a pipe. In the midst of this shop of tourist horrors was a little native-made section of tribal treasures. And all i could see was this blue glass beaded pipe hung in buckskin and leather. I held it in my hands, i ran my fingers over the horse hair and duck feathers. It was a lot of money, and i don’t like to spend money when there are so many practical things that need to be taken care of. Reluctantly i hung the pipe back and carried on. I looked at the answer feathers, leather braid wraps, real silver jewellery and medicine wheels; but i kept going back to the pipe. It was as if this pipe had something to tell me, a secret to whisper to me that only we could hear. It was stirring a willingness in me. To be strong. To be silent. To keep going. To keep watching the sunrise and the moon sleep. To keep writing. To keep watching for those twin black birds that follow me from place to place.

On the way home a dark fog seemed to clear and i could finally see the stars again. I hung my pipe by my bedside that night, next to my sand tile from the Navajo tribe in Nevada, and it was the first deep slumber i’ve had in weeks without ill feeling. Without getting up to look for Basil or waking every few minutes to be sure it was true that he was gone. Without wishing i’d hear my grandfather laughing in the corner. I just slept. And my soul slept. There was no loss and no guilt, that could wake me. This pipe is precious to me already. Like an old friend returned. It awoke the old raven in me who was losing its mind to memories and bad thoughts. The raven was desperate to fly again, and would rip open its cage if i didn’t let it out.
I don’t have to grasp for soil when i have wings.

Some things just speak to you. Feel you. Understand you. And you belong to each other. And this Navajo pipe, though its not its traditional use, has brought me inner peace by just existing.
Glass beads, duck feathers, buckskin, leather and an arrow head.
Indian Head Mountain.

My pipe is made by a first nations artist of the Navajo tribe, please only purchase Native-Made products and never native inspired.

expat blogger of the month

Hello lovely readers !
Let me catch you up a little on whats going on.
A few days ago i received an email asking if i was interested in contributing to an online expat magazine on expat.com.
I was so surprised and super excited, so of course i said yes. What an interesting opportunity.
I only recently happened across this website for expats a week or two ago from happening to glance at a few other expat blogs, so this all happened really quickly. Hence my surprise. Its a really great platform for people to learn about moving abroad and getting information from real people who have experienced that kind of life. So its genuine advice, thoughts and discussions. So if theres anyone out there reading this that wants to move abroad and wants a little help, this might be a nice place for you. (This is not an advert by the by — this is just my own opinion and i’m not paid to have said opinion). 
Anyway, they sent me a list of questions to answer about my blog and my general expat experiences. I know i don’t write like other people so i was a little unsure that my writing was right for something like this as its very “novel-esque,” but thats just the ever present self doubt we all suffer from once in a while making an appearance.

Tomorrow this little extract on me goes live on the online magazine, and i didn’t realise it that it means i am “the blogger of the month” August 2018 ! How exciting is that after only having been a member for a very short time?


Thats my little bit of news for this gloomy Monday night.
I hope you all have a lovely on going week, and that its not as humid where you are as it is here.
You can read the “interview” here!

Its never too early in the year for long johns. Ever.

 

 

ships in my tea cup

Its been a long yet productive weekend. Tomorrow is my last work day before i have some time off, and i can’t wait to sleep later than 6.30am. I’ve been dreaming about all the things i want to do and all the places i want to be, but unfortunately i can only be in one place at a time — and where i am right now isn’t on my list of places. I’m grateful for the experience i’ve gained here but sometimes i feel like a caged bird that gets fed old crackers to pipe back a name or flip on my perch.
I want to be out there somewhere getting lost and getting dirt under my finger nails. Somewhere that’ll be truly home. Once i’ve finished getting some farrier experience under my belt i think i’ll be more than ready to get on the road and try to find where my forever will be.
So for now i’ll dream into my tea cup and try to survive the ghastly humidity that we’re having up here in the North East.
Have a lovely on-coming week!