"Miracle on Morada Lane"

Well she wasn't usin' it any more,the Chinook that is. And I was sure as hell freezin'! I mean she had passed away and wasn't plannin' any more trips on this here plane. I never met her that I know of. A fella' I know just walked up ta' me sort'a outa' the blue and asked me where'd I been stayin' I pointed at my backpack/bedroll combination and I said "Right here".Then he asked me if I wanted an RV. I inquired as to the price and when he said "FREE". Well i couldn't hardly believe my ears. I'd been livin' outside for what seemed like a mighty long time, ever since that danged tree collapsed down atop my previous mobile home. That had been In August only 4 months past, but these last weeks since the temperature done dropped well mercy goodness it's been downright painful cold! The sorta' painful that makes ya' wonder why ya' don't just sorta' give up tryin'. When that cuttin' icey knife sharp pain cuts inta' yur feet and hands when all ya' wanna do is sleep and sorta' escape fer a while. When those knives slice you awake again in the mornin'. Those blades keep cuttin' as you wait for the sun to warm ya' or till you can find a nice spot where some kindhearted souls will let ya' in. They're out there, the good people and they'll let you in. The other ones are out there too, of course the ones that'd rather see ya' freeze than muddy their little minds with the suggestion that they might be there somday. It can happen in a milisecond. How long did it take for that tree to fall? It can fall anytime ya' know. On anyone. It can fall on you ya' know?

Wisdom n' Beans Or Follow your Gut.

My ol' pal Dusty once passed on some wisdom to me. We'd been ridin' trail up near Taos. Me on my Paint Louie n' Dusty on that Morgan mare. Well we came to a place in the trail where we needed to decide which was the best and brightest way to continue. I turned to Dusty, Dusty seemin' somewhat wiser n' all, and sought some advise. Dusty said. "Well from here, it don't matter a lot does it? I mean we're goin' home, right?" Dusty continued. "It seems to me there's many a time when a person might consult some sorta book or shaman or voodoo visionary, or some such fer direction, but mostly what matters, is a person deciding fer themself, or so it strikes me." I scratched my head and pondered. Dusty prattled on a bit more sayin': "You go on about your direction seekin', me, I'm right hungry so's I'm a goin' home". With that me n' Louie was left standin' with our quandry n' a pair of achin' bellies. About then I decided that the best course to travel was the one I liked, the one that got me "home". I gave ol' Louie his head, let him decide, and off we went.
When we got home that night me n' Dusty made us a big warm campfire. We built it out'a them books a' theories n' teachins and whatnot that I'd done been collectin'. We grilled us up some Buffalo steaks. We followed our gut. We drank some whiskey. We ate some beans. We hunkered down. We shot the breeze. We went to bed. We slept mighty well that night with the aroma of buffalo steaks and wisdom lingering in the air.

wOwIe ZoWiE There Be Goodens out there eh?

YO!
Great news from the article I had printed in the Taos News. Last night i went to this "group" thing at the mental health place, mostly so I could borrow their phone to call the landlord whose name I and # had just found out yesterday. So I call the # and the lady that answers tells me that she had JUST hung up from speaking with her husband, he was in Kansas, hunting, but they had seen the article in the Taos News and THEY had in fact been trying to find ME, but the only address that they had for me was no good. They saw my email address, contacted their insurance co. and now the ins, co. will contact me.Is that KOOL OR LIKE WHAT>?????. Now we'll see what they gonna offer.....

Thanksgiving

Hi,

It just dawned on me as I stood in Kit Carson Park, stirring the embers of a small blaze, tomorrow will be Thanksgiving Day. The day set aside for such by, if memory serves, Mr. Abraham Lincoln. As the blaze seared the meat upon the grill as it melted the cheese upon the tortilla as it warmed my hands I felt pretty darned thankful right then as I do now. Have a great day . And thanks. Mark K.

So much fer that

Yeeh that sure dun sounded good. That ranch handin'. Turned out that demon with the tattoo on her neck was runnin' more of a prison camp fer' critters. There was one filly, 'bout a year, probly born with a broken leg. No help was given. The demon ain't cleaned stalls in 5 YEARS! "Just spread the poop around". She said ta' me.
One ol' geldin' has a tumor on his sheath probly weighs 5 or 8 pounds. Oh YEAH I turned her in ta lotsa folks! We'll see what happens. Sometimes I wonder "Was I sent there, or was I just in the right place outa pure happinstance"? I tend towards the latter.. But you tell me.

http://cowboythings.com/

The Adventure Continues!

Wow a new job on a ranchito with plenty of work lot's of horses a room with heat and of course no money nut I am OK with it all. She writes and we may talk. How magnificent.

Now ya' dun 'er!

Well Dusty I dun it this time! I told the world via "Facebook" Huh, what's that? Oh look it up.
I told her the "L" word, THAT one, well, the truth must be told 'er die with out tellin', werse yet live with yer truth held inside and anothers heart left bereft, mayhap, broken, alone.
Yeah poetical I know, Dusty, thanks. I'm gonna' hold to it this time the truth, the love and the woman if, that is she shall allow. "The Mare always leads". Who said that? I guessn' I did, well that phrase up there in them slanty letters anyway. I figure the "Great Originator" 'er whatever said the thing about the Mare. (When I said that about the mare as we rode south in the cobalt she who mustn't be named lest the spell be broken, said" Hmm" i think that was a good thing")

Sew much to do etc...

Yup too much ta' write but i got me sum NEW boots .....................

Yup, I dun gone 'n dun it.

But is it my fault? I mean I just walked in ta' some place I been walkin' inta' fer nigh onta twenty years n' somethin's different. I mean it's all the same but the lights are different and the sounds are different and the music's different. Then on Tuesday I aint even drinkin' 'n yet we kin dance, beautifully. Dang nab it all ta' heck 'n back I guess I dun did it. I Never figured it might happen again but there ya' go , Que, No? But I wonder; am I all alone? Yeah, now that one's a sore one, all right. Does she wonder? She needn't. But does she even want to? Damn!
Oh my. I got one a' them telephones n' as soon as I charge it and install the SIM card I'll have a #. YEEHAA! (Sad now.)

Now I've Gone And Done It!

What in thunderation might that there be, Mr. Saddleytrampy? What is it you done "gone 'n done" thissy here time? Goin' back ta' jail now 'r ye'? 'Tnother stupid manuver fer gettin' 'round them thar slippery-like details that you seem so darn counfounded, convinced dont applicate themselves ta' you nor your'n? WHAT NOW, PREY TELL Mr. S/T? I tell you, I'm 'bout ta' bust my britches with curiosity?
(The preceding was an illustration of something we in the industry call "internal dialogue". The Editors.)
The Saddletramp responds: "NO, no more "stupid crimes" fer me, least ways I hope not, least ways, not right now any way. Hey! That's what she called 'em! "Stupid crimes"! 'Course it hurt when SHE said it, what with it being so true 'n all. 'N Dusty, sometimes, it's like you can see right inside my head, it's like yur sittin' in there takin' notes 'er sumpthin'. Now quit it fer a spell! Allow me this litte secret fer a time! I was gonna tell but now I ain't! I'm probably full a' beezwax n' dreams agin, anyway. I got me all on fiddlesticks 'n such like. You go on ahead now an' read that book I give ya' "Leaving Cheyenne" by Larry McMurtry. Sure there's some gun play' 'n horse play 'n whiskey in it. OF COURSE THERE'S WOMEN IN IT! I'm a-gonn'a sit 'n smoke me a Marllyborro, sip 'a sip a' this here coffee I been totin' since Espanolly 'er whatever in thunderation they call that town down there towards Santy Fe, 'n I'm a-gonna enjoy this here organic, peanutbutter, chocolate chip cookie."
(I gotta get me a map and find out where the heck Portyland is. Is it in Maine 'er Orygone)
(More" internal dialogue". There is a considerable amount of internal dialogue in AREA 52)

Hey,if you have a moment please visit this site http://InnocenceProject.org/. . There's a' mess a' nasty stuff bein' done in "our" name an some folks callin' it justice. Yeah lots of it's happenin' down in Texas. Go figure,eh?

This is serious.

I am getting my horses back, I have my saddles returned, I have a replacement trailer, I have my foodstamps, my state insurance and my Topomax (a medication). I am, it seems, well stocked in worldly goods and should be ready to travel. One main question remains and that is: Have I the courage of my convictions?
How easy it is for me to pontificate in any state whatsoever, be it sober or straight, stoned or serious. I can soap-box myself till I am blue in the face and people will listen. Some will laugh, some will turn and walk away, most will forget by the end of the day what the white man in the big black hat, the cowboy boots and the black leather vest said. But I can't forget, I don't even wish I could. I said it all and I meant what I said. I said it for my Father, William, I said it for my brother Steve I said it for my nephews Paul and Ben. I say it again for myself and I say it for you. It's our turn.

Now I gotta' cowboy up and assist those who so nobly went to stand for us. Though some where lied to and disgraced by unkind leaders they did they job.
They do it still.

for Joe

Please visit this link a friend of mine is in need of help. Joe Easly caught up in a false murder charge in New Mexico. His daughter as well, she's only 17. innocenceproject.org. google it OK?

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY AN' I DON'T FEEL LIKE CRYIN'!

Well now here it be, ol' 54 yessiree didn' never think it'd happen, me gettin' on up ther an' feelin' younger all the time. Gonna' celebrate tonight. Got me a new home, that is ta' say a nice new 1976 travel trailer, the town's gonna' pay for it soon. I am soon to be officially on probation, a fine way to begin the next stage of my strange an' excitin existinence! I do wish Steve an' Mary and the boys could be here. N' Mom n' Pop too, Que, No? And soon to have Mr. Louie, Marziye an' Lil' Bud home again too. If'n that awful woman tries to sell them Horses I'll have her brought up on horse stealin' quickern' snot. In fact I just may do so all the same, in fact I shall.
Thanks fer droppin' in.

Ol' Dusty rides into my life once again...

Well ol' Dusty Magnolia stopped in this afternoon and wants to jaw just a bit. Now Dusty ain't much a one fer talkin' ner fer writin' neither in fact we hasn't never met met ceptin' in this here blogosphere but Dusty gots lots ta' say.
The Dusty One resides somewheres near on to AREA 51 ya' know? It's out there right where you are at this here moment in space n' time and like that.
Dusty mostly sits ahorseback like the Cowboy Buddha, a drink in one hand an' a smoke in ta' other. Asidesaddle like ceptin' there ain't no saddle. Quite a story's the ol' Dustinator.
Wears a caloico print skirt down one side, leather chaps ta' other. A character I must say.
email dusty at dustymag1@yahoo.com

Link post from Judy

First make sure you're on the Compose tab, rather than the Edit HTML tab (top right corner of this box)

Then type out what you wanna say, for example:
Please the Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans website at http://iava.org/.

Then select the text that you want to be the hyperlink. For example http://iava.org.

Click the link icon above, which is a metal link of a chain above a green world. Type or paste in the URL of the website you want to link to. (I like to copy it from the address bar of my browser & paste it in so I don't type it wrong.) Then click Okay.

Your end result is:
Please the Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans website at http://iava.org/.

Congratulations!

RIDE 2 RECOVER

THAT'S IT THE NEW NAME; RIDE 2 RECOVER!"
I AM OUTTA JAIL AND READY TO ROCK AND RIDE!
My home is destroyed yet I survive "Chumbawumb" SANG: "I get knocked down but I get up again, ain't nothin' gonna keep me down".

It's time to serve. My uniform? My Stetson And My boots

Ride for Recovery

The reasons I want to ride South from here, Taos, NM, to Tombstone, AZ, are many. My primary purpose is to garner attention for a project of large proportion and scale, namely to initiate the development of as many "Therapeutic Horseback Riding Centers" as possible in the US with the primary purpose of serving our returning Veterans.
I have seen with my own eyes the effects of the power of an animal as big and kind and gentle as a horse on an individual, especially an individual who has been somehow damaged, whether by violence or indifference, from within or without these animals are willing to help. So I am asking you to help us help them, the horses, help them, the Veterans.
I'm still workin' on the details but I intend to ride soon, say September 25Th to be in Tombstone buy the 26Th of October for the Anniversary of that famous gunfight, OK?
Thanks n' Lets' Go Ridin'! MKK

Hi Steve

I sure hope you read this Bro. I wrote it for you and all the brothers that have served and that will. We all serve in our own way but for the cowards. I brook no cowards for I am a cowboy. Hey Steve, remember that ranch in Colorado when they made me an honorary Cowboy? Where you jealous? I finally am growin' into my boots and my Stetson. I love you man and I always will I always have have but, like Dad sometimes it's difficult to admit to the truth.

So here's what happened to Gary

So here's what happened to Gary:
OK so he had the cancer he got in a car wreck coming back from Santa Fe was Jailed with NO medical attention for 4 days was finally taken to hospital life-flighted to Abq. where he DIED about a week later. a lawsuit? I think so.

Attempting to arrange and express my thoughts, plans etc.

I want to ride. I want to ride not only for myself but for others, primarily Vets. We all owe them so much as yet so little has, in truth, been done.
When my Father's generation of Warriors returned from the fighting in the 40's they were welcomed as they were; young men come home. No need then for names like "hero" they were young men, now grown old beyond their years.
My dream with my ride is to RAISE MONEY! Yes I said it I want/need to raise MONEY! Why do I need to raise this "filthy luchre" you might ask? Well read on> to build a camp, no a ranch and Thereon do some serious/fun "rehab" with horses. PTSD? What in the hell is that? I figure if I came back from some battleground in a far away land where people I don't know where tryin' to KILL me and I them, if I where to return from such a situation anywhere and I didn't feel a little "disturbed" THEN I might think I have me a problem. So with the help from the horses, the golden dream of America, the cowboy of both myth and truth, we can get some healin' done, but we need money...

Topamax day

Well I took my dose last night: Topomax, a small amount of the whiskey, one beer, a taste of the mota. No hangover this morning. Good feeling that.
Had to call the cops last night to report "A crazy Woman With A Pistol" in Kit Carson Park. I thought that a buddy may have been shot but no.

My mind keeps reelin', these drugs I'm on help. Topamax helps keep them jiggles at bay, missed my dose last night so feel rough and rugged today.
Well I really plan to get myself to Tombstone, Arizona by the 26th of October. Maybe I will call Steve and see if he can make it too. I'll have an extra horse. My twitchyness is not going to allow mwe to sit and type so I must get out.
THIS is what I felt like in school when I was a kid.

moo post

Well, It's time.
To reach Tombstone by october 26
I must depart Taos on the Autumnal Exuinox, no later.
Need horses.

new post new plan

So new plans, return to last years plans.

Somebody once said...

Somebody once said "be careful what you wish for..."
I'm sure you know the rest. Well, I wished upon a falling star for something old-something-new-something borrowed-something-blue, they all came true.
The "blue" a new horse, new to me a 2 year old APPALOOSA, black near unto blue with the Milky-Way shot across his spine. "Something borrowed"? Soon to tell, too soon to tell.
"Something new"? Well this day seems new enough to me.
"Old" you say? "Something old"? How 'bout this feeling? This feeling of pain and sorrow when a new love may open yet only to be closed? Closed by fear-addiction-misunderstanding-mistrust? Who's mistrust etc. etal of the aforementioned? Whose, must you ask? Need you?
Don't we know each other enough, well enough by now? Don't we?
For you to pose that question is to posit the answer. Me,of course me. Who else?

Madness? Me?

So much ta' do n' so little time ta' do it in. Gotta' sleep some gotta' rest some and the dang heat is like ta' too much. I need help n' so I'm gettin' from lots a' sources. The business ideas the hopes dream, plans n' more are sorta' like too much sometimes n' feels like my mind is gonna explode n' stuff. So I drink, that seems ta' settle me down for some, the jitters n' that go away n' so's I can focus, for a spell, by then it's nigh on ta' dark n' time for some sleepin' n' some readin' when I can concentrate myself for a few minutes at a time.
Yes I need help. Some chemical imbalances must have occurred when I was in the womb, some many years ago. I ain't whinin' ner complainin' xactlly but Mom she sure did drink and my brain was formed around that chemical stew n' so now... Modern science to the rescue and some folks ta' talk to n' like that.

2 hot

2 Too hot ta' think too hot ta' smell good too hot to write. I must get my time straight, now the I'm seekin'/gettin' help for my mentalness issues i must get more time ta' write damn IT

well well well

tHE HORSES ARE AS AM i BUT i MISS THEM TRIED TO MEET THE OPPOSITION THIS AM, they m animals Badidn't show up at the courthouse. Why? I was there and I want them animals bacl ASAP!!!!!!!! Can you HEAR ME?

ridin'

"NOW WHAT?" I ASK MYSELF. "NOW WHAT?" LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE JUST FOR TODAY? LIVE LIKE YOU WERE DYIN'? EIGHT SECONDS ON A BULL? A LONG TRAIL RIDE IN SEARCH OF/FINDING AMERICA? AMERICA? IT'S RIGHT THERE IN YOUR CHAIR, ON THIS PAGE. READIN' THIS? LIVIN' THIS? NO? THEN JUST GO AWAY ALRIGHT. I mean I won't shoot you, or nothin' but I might just aim ta' scare ya', just a mite bit ya' know? Just pullin' yer leg, kinda' joshin' like Que, no?
Let's Go Ridin'!

new

So much to write.I miss the writing. I miss Gary. Gary died. The State of New Mexico helped kill him. Taos County and Colfax County helped kill him. Retribution will be mine, ours. The Gary Wayne Sherman School of Music in Taos will be my/our revenge. More to come please stay tuned and never give up on me. I won't on you either. RIDE ON !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

trouble brewin'?

Well it seems that me n' the equines (Louie, Mairzie n' "Lil Bud)are facin' some hard times. Not that hard but it seems that we may need to relocate from the comfy spot where we're now settled. I just got my RV hunkered down, the fences are holdin' in the horses and Sadie the dog seems right at home, but now comes the problems; SEWER LINES, CRAZY NEIGHBORS 'N AN ANTSY LANDLORD. The sewer lines are supposed to come right down the pasture cuttin' us off from the road with a big ditch for a few months, crazy neighbors I won't go into, you know, crazy drunks and screamin' families...
We got our eyes on a real sweet spot: an old blue barn I once worked with a therapeutic riding program. I know we could fix up them ol' fences n' have a right fine facility, give some lessons, train some horses, heck maybe even make some money. The long ride's still in the offing but right now, well the above explains that. Well we'll see...

More of mice and men...

Well them horses, that little colt and the mare are doin' right well. Lil' Bud's wound is healin' and he's puttin' on weight.
Mayrzie has shed a nasty winter coat n' she's come out bright n' speckled like. She's a beauty now. But here's wherein the plans gone awry. I ain't been gettin' work for about two, goin' on three weeks n' the feed supply has gotten mighty thin, like on ta' none. I neede money I need help. If ya' can go on ta' paypal to markintaos@yahoo.com and drop a dime fer them critters, it ain't fer me it's fer them and thanks much.

Of mice and men

My goodness what a week it's been! Just last Friday this saga began, but, man, I tell ya' it seems like months done gone by. Well it turns out that this pal a' mine's been growin' somethin' in his HEAD that shouldn't a' been there. A tumor.
The tumor was about the size, the man said, of a pocketwatch. It's gone now, he got it cut clean out. You should see the scar, I might just post a photo if'n he don't mind. It AIN'T PRETTY.
On the brighter side...
I found a nice home for two a' them starvin' horses. Real nice fella' up ta' Taos Pueblo, a fine horseman with some nice pasture.
I figured I might just as well keep a couple myself, what with me bein' so rich and all and havin' so much time on my hands. So now I have a small herd. Quite a picture it is at feedin' time. First Mr. Louie looks up and sees me, he nods at Mairzey so she starts walkin' up, Louie right behind her, Lil' Bud followin'. A family.
"The well laid plans of mice and men"
My trip's been postponed but not cancelled, the horses need time for healin' as does my buddy, as do I. I am drained by this experience for reasons which will remain private. But ya' just gotta "do what needs to be done" ya' know?

memories 'n smells

Had me a moment ta' other day. I was standin' around at work, tryin' to act as if I had somethin' to do when suddenly I was overcome by a memory.
I was ten years old, maybe eight or nine. In the basement of our house, the one my father designed, my mother grew things. Among the miniature forest of African violets, she grew an orange tree, a miniature orange tree.
Taste it.
We contain all that we have ever done, seen, felt, heard, touched, tasted. We are our own memories.
What if? What if we could all feel, see, touch 'n taste all that we've ever known in our lives?
Those oranges still make my mouth pucker, wanna' spit 'n taste some more, those fruits were never meant to be eaten'!
On a midwinter's day in Nebraska the sight, aroma, presence, of an orange grown in the basement was not to be overcome.
I taste again, pucker, spit, n' think of summer.
In the depths of winter, snow all about, I open a bale of hay and taste summer. I remember my mother seated upon a paint mare, somewhere in Colorado.
A photogaph. A picture. A memory.
Now I smell defeat. I push that smell away. Now I smell tomorrow 'n my promise not to be defeated.

(Before ya' go please visit "From The Horses Mouth" here on the blog, and thanks for droppin' in!)








A wealth of life awaits us in our cells.

This afternoon I was drivin' around a little bit, just enjoyin' the day, the sunshine 'n a break from the wind we been havin'.
I looked in my rearview mirror, a car was signallin' ta' pass me on a curvey two lane pot-holed bumpy road. They were passin' me 'cause they could tell by lookin' that I weren't in no hurry. As they passed my, with a full politeness so seldom seen these days, I looked in my own mirror and realized that they where passin' me cause I am who I am, 'n they could see it.
I drive an old pickup, an S10 Chevy from the late '80's, a beater. Mounted on the truck's, splotchy spray painted cab are two lights kinda' lookin' like Mickey Mouse ears, there's a rake welded to the hood. The truck-bed carries decayin' trash bags atop a layer of hay. My truck.
As I drove it dawned in me that I am who I am 'n who I wanna' be.
I wear my boots, my wide brimmed hat, my jeans. I got a dog as my passenger. I'm goin' home to feed my horses.
I reflect on jail cells.

There's a man in the parkin' lot where I now sit in the same truck a pirate, a wi-fi pirate. The man's in the parkin' lot 'cause he smokes. The man smokes 'n admires a car, a Porsche, his. He smokes, admires, goes back inside, content, I assume.
Frank Zappa's widow's on the radio now, so's Frank, I pause to listen.
Thanks much.

More about horses and people

Well the weather up here en del Norte shor' nuff can be right ficklesome! One day blowin' hot, next day cold, but all the time blowin'! Keeps me nervous n' on edge. Kinda' like a build up to a break up, kind of a come here, go away type a' thing, Ya' know? One day hot next day cold, damn.
What with all this wind my RV (red neck haven?) rocks me to sleep at night then rocks me awake in the mornin'! My house rocks me dizzy all day, what with it's swayin' and bouncin'. That's my excuse, my reason for bein' here in this bar of a Sunday evening.
Sorta' "church-like" in this hotel bar, I mean it's kinda' quiet, bowed heads, folded hands, etc, etal. This scene has all the makins of people prayin' for forgiveness. Prain' to be forgiven, soon, if not now.
Tomorrow, Monday, will bloom, blossom, blow-up, like Judgement Day, for some. The doomsayers, the forgivers, the forgivees, decide for themselves. Whichever way the song is played somebody's gonna' pay.

The horses are a little crazy, what with all this wind and all.

Now here's a story I firmly wish I'd, never, never hafta' write, ta' tell...
This here fella's been runnin' an advert 'round these parts lately that he's got some horses for sale.
In that I am in the market for another animal to share the load of a journey or two, I called him up and went ta' take a look. (What with of packin' my lard ass and all around, Louie needs an equine companion. Louie, on the road with just a poor pitiful human n' a canine for companionship, well, he would revert to, indulge in, that part of himself which we, some of us, might refer to as his "inner bitch". What with him bein' a gelding and all I cain't rightly blame him.)
So this fellas' tryin' to sell some underfed, sad, ill kept animals.
It went like this; I went to check out a 7 year old mare t'other day that fella's tryin' to sell. when I arrived the skinny little mare was in a corral, saddled. She wore a lariet, tight, 'round her neck, ten, twelve feet a' rope trailin' on the ground.
This lovely bright eyed mare wouldn't take to a bit nor did she welcome my attempts to mount that sad broke down saddle she was forced to wear atop a paper-thin misplaced ancient "saddle pad".
As I unsaddled her after my slow-witted realization that she was being sorely mishandeled, I asked her ostensible "owner" if she'd taken to bein' saddles easy. He said " Yeah, she took the saddle real well, this morning" He said this at nearly 5:00 PM! She'd been wearin' that worn decrepit saddle, the wooden tree pressin' into her poor thin shoulders, the cinch, tight, 'round her poor underfed belly for nigh' onto, at least, 5 hours, maybe 6. She stood alone disconnected from her friends, her herd, her ways.
That man didn't understand why she was so "upset" and didn't want to be ridden.
I want to steal her.
I want to shoot him.
And there's lots more like him, and worse, out there.

(I didn't take that picture, it was in this here machine at the Taos Libary) Well the Sun's up n' shinin' and the weather is FINE here in del Norte. I finally sent out my "big request" and now it's just wait n' see what happens I suppose.
I'm gonna' do this thing one way or ta'other, 'course it shor' enough would be nice havin' some travelin' companions, even though they be "virtual saddletramps", it'd make it a might less lonely out on the road there. Them trails can get mighty dusty n' dry.

From The Horses Mouth?

Howdy to one and all,
So here's the idea;
I'm plannin' a trip, I should say "We, are plannin' a trip", sort of a working journey, into the past.
In the attached photo is Louie (The Lip) a paint Horse of, no doubt, mixed ancestry. I'm the one in the hat. (on the first page)
Louie wants to go ridin' this summer, he's thinkin' June would be nice.
Ya' see Ol' Louie wants to visit some of the country, he wants to wander
out on the plains. It seems that Louie has, for a spell now, harbored a yen to experience what life was like for some of his ancestors. (We figure this trail would be travelled in 2 segments, one this year another next summer)
So this here's what he wants me to do while he does the hard part of carrying me on his back.
Louie wants me to write/blog about this journey, take lots of photos (Kodak Z1012IS),
and compile a book. Now the exact details of the book we have yet to work out, perhaps something like a graphic novel/travel journal (with music and song?) I'll get back to that some other time.
Hey, maybe Kodak would pitch in and sponsor this here saddle-tramp's
travelin', now THAT would be kool.
That also brings me to the point of this missive.
On the off chance that Kodak won't pitch in to sponsor this here project,
there is something you could do: Help sponsor me n' Louie's travelin'
act/Art project, it wouldn' take much. If you see some merit in this project just hook up wih my paypal account (markintaos@yahoo.com) and make a small donation, (of course it doesn't need to be small but I hear tell we're havin' some rough times here in America. That's part of the project
too, ta' do some research into the hearts and minds of those in the
"heartland"). Land mail works too,> Mark K.Kemper 107 Maestes Road,
Taos, NM, 87571. If you invest let's say 5 bucks and you forward this site to some friends and they forward it to theirs, well you get the picture (all sponsors will of course be credited).
A little background information. A few months back I read a book, yes I did!
Well this here book is called "Blood and Thunder", by one Mr. Hampton
Sides, an excellent read and that dang book got us, me n' Louie, well mostly Louie, ta' thinkin'; Why don't we just up n' head down that
Santa Fe trail? "We should head North and Eastward to Colorado", Louie
said. "All of us", he continued, "you, me, 'n
Sadie, the Wonder Dog, and another horse for company 'n ta' sorta'
share the load, we could mosey across Kansas, eventually on to Missouri, to the birthplace of the Santa Fe trail. We want to visit, along with many other sites along the trail, the place where Kit Carson was born. Now that there's a character who remains controversial to this day. The book I mentioned "Blood and Thunder" carries a subtitle; The Epic Story of Kit Carson and the Conquest of the American West. I want to interview people that live along the trail, whose families may have traveled that long, difficult route.
If this project sells and I can generate some income I will be donating at
least 20% to some friends of mine. One's a lady runnin' an animal rescue facility (when she gets a website up I'll let ya' know where to find it) with no source of income but what she makes. This lady has some 65+ animals, from dogs and chickens to a number of formally abused horses, and on and on. They eat a lot! did I mention the Buffalo? She has a Buffalo.
Well the three of us, Sadie, Louie n' me, we all talked some more 'bout Mr. Louie's idea, Sadie's up for it, I'm up for it and of course Louie (The Lip) is stoked. Whatcha'think, wanna' go along for the ride?
Mark K. Kemper

Stallions

The Royal Lipizzaner Stallions!
I was unsure about the name, that "Royal" part I mean. In the 21st century what does it mean to be "Royal"? Who is "Royal"?
The show began...
After some witty patter from an announcer the curtain parted, a white beast strode forth, tears welled up in my eyes, my heart soared. What beauty, what grace, what elegance!
In 1945 the 42nd Squadron of the US Army's 2nd Cav. saved these animals from near certain destruction, with the help of the German army. For the sake of those animals men, made enemies by politics and fools, allied themselves for those horses. For the Lipizzaners, warring factions lay down their arms. The lineage was saved, those horses.
They are the Royalty, those horses.
They humble us.
>>see lipizzaner.com<<

For years I've felt these words inside me trying to get out, now they have egress, a path out and away into the world, not just scribbled in notebooks then tossed in the fire but launched from this platforn, this Mac, and sent winging away into..

March

March 7th 2009.
Siittin' in the Stardust Inn.
I really like this place, comfortable. Nice people at the front desk, faint scent of curry in the lobby and in the accent of the lady who checks me in.
As she takes my card, my numbers, she notices Sadie in the cab of my truck, eyes alert, ears, pointy, pointed at us as we talk and smile about her, how pretty she is, how lucky we both are. Me, I'm lucky for having found her and she's just plain lucky for bein' alive, and for finding me, I suppose.
She was tied up by a telephone wire for more than two weeks. She has a tendency to spin madly in clockwise revolutions, she'd wound that wire up tight around a pole, around her leg, that wire cut deep into her flesh. That wire had held her tight during some frigid, icy, Taos nights, no food, no shelter, no friends, a bowl of ice to slake her thirst. I mean Sadie was tied up of course, my dog, not the lady behind the counter whose voice sounded like cardamom and ginger.
The lady with the fragrant voice said her own dog, (a German Shepherd, fourteen year member of her family that had saved her husbands life, twice, once by knocking the gun out of a holdup man's hand) had been killed, hit near their home, by a Police car. The Policeman drove on by.
The traffic rolls loud, heavy, on the Interstate, at home in Taos the nights are quiet, near silent. I sit and think about the woman and her dog, her loss. The lady with the dusky skin and the sound of ginger told me that her family had given their departed pet the same respect and ceremony that they would have provided an aunt or a cousin, any loved one.
Her words, her English didn't flow well, nor easily. My perception of her words was erratic, like listening to a radio station bounce in and out as you drive through canyons.
I knew what she meant; She missed her dog. She had loved him, her German Shepherd, she had loved him, he had been killed. I wasn't fair. The Policeman drove on by.

Tomorrow Lipizzaner Stallions!

"http://www.saddletramptravels.com"

Try again?

Well Spring's near upon me now. Suffered, spent another winter in the RV cold. Spring demands my attention, the horses ain't been worked for quite some time now, mostly 'cause I'm lazy. But tomorrows sun's 'gonna shine and I'm 'gonna ride. Thinkin' 'bout headin out come June. Summer on the plains?