Friday, July 10, 2015

Resurrecting the Old

On Memorial Day Weekend, I went to Fort Benton with my older sister. A tradition we started last year was to have a sister weekend and travel to an interesting place. (Next year my younger sister and mother will be able to join us.)  Last year we went to Boulder, Montana, where we went antique-ing in near by towns and stayed in the fabulous Boulder Hot Springs Inn, and soaked our bones.  We also sat in a radon mine, but that's another story.

So this year I suggested we go to Fort Benton. It's a great little town with lots of history. If you haven't been, I would highly recommend going. (And stay at this nice B&B.)

To make a long story short, we stopped at this Antique place north of Fort Benton. Virgelle is really in the middle of nowhere.  There is a ferry to take you across the Missouri, a boat dock, a grain shiloh, and the Virgelle Mercantile and Bank.

In the basement of the Mercantile, I found this.

Now, I have been looking for a desk for a long time. Can you believe that I have been doing all my writing perched on a stool in front of my clothes dresser? Well, I have.  You don't know how many times I had to stop and walk around because my legs fell asleep.

So I bought this sewing cabinet, one: because it was a steal at $60, and two: I have fond memories of a Singer trundle that was at my Grandparents ranch.  It was in the kitchen and had a huge butcher block on top. As a child, I would press the peddle with my hands and watch the wheel move.

So I brought the cabinet home and cleaned it up.

Sanded it down.

Gave the base a new coat of paint.

 And refinished the cabinet.

 Now I have a proper desk.

 Plus I have the added bonus of getting a workout while a write.

All I need now is a posh chair.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

How about a little Mary Jane?

Yeah, I know, when I heard the title "Mary Janes Farm" it raised my eyebrows too. But my older sister told me to "trust" her and she handed me this great magazine to which I became instantly addicted. Gardening, cooking, baking, crafting, all with western flair, speaking to cowgirl and urban cowgirl alike. 
I loved the style, the writing, and the gorgeous photography from Mary Jane Butters and crew. I ended up writing an article for them and now it is printed and available for you to read. (Thanks to SDQuilter and Blaze Champion for letting me know - I haven't gotten my copy yet.) Here is a link to their site:

If you enjoy great ideas, cooking, and organic living, I suggest reading this magazine. And welcome and thank you to all those who saw my article and decided to "trust" me and check me out.

Thank you also to the editors and staff at Mary Janes Farm for making me look as awesome as they are.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Hands in the dirt, butt in the air.

Ode to the Farmer Tan. (Sing to the tune of Spiderman by The Ramones)

Farmer Tan,
Farmer Tan.
Are you a farmer?
Yes, I am.
You can tell by my Farmer Tan.
White up top, brown on the hands.
It's a sight,
My Farmer Tan.

Okay, it's not the greatest, but I do have a righteous lower arm tan.

Friday, April 3, 2015

Who are you gonna call?

Do you believe in the afterlife? Ghosts?

I do.

I've been in a haunting mood, lately. Strange, I know. It is more suited for Halloween and not Easter. However, I've been researching for a new book.

Also I am a huge paranormal reality show nut, and "Haunting:Austrailia" just started on Syfy. Man, that last episode was intense. They had the best evidence caught by a ghost hunting tv crew in a long time.
You'll have to check it out, it was amazing.

I have had my own brush with the paranormal. One time, a long time ago, when I was living in Phoenix, I had an encounter in my apartment. I lived alone, apart from my greyhound mix dog named Pepe, and I had just returned home from work. It was around four in the afternoon and I had gone into my room to change clothes before taking Pepe out for a walk. She of course followed me in and sat on the floor.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging in the kitchen, as though someone was slamming a pot on the stove. Bang! Bang! Bang! This was coming inside the apartment, and not next door, it was to sharp of a sound, and not muffled by walls. My dog looked over her shoulder, then back at me. Her eyes widened, but she did not bark. I looked into my kitchen and found nothing, no pot on the stove, nobody around. I went back into my room and sat down on the bed. Bang! Bang! Bang! The metal on metal clang happened again. I looked at Pepe and said out loud. "I don't know who that is, but they don't belong here. And they better leave, now!" Soon I heard the sound of the front door opening and shutting. It never happened again.

I also believe that Pepe, who died before I left Phoenix, stayed with me until she knew I was safe and happy. Soon after she passed, I would hear her sigh like she did when she thought I was taking to long to take her for a walk. I even heard it when I moved away and was back in Montana.

But the creepiest encounter I had was at the guest ranch I worked at. It was a beautiful sunny day, and one of the girls that I worked with and I were taking a break in the lodge. Everyone else that worked on the ranch had taken the day off and went into town and were not expected back until the next day. We were sitting in the main lodge, finishing our lunches and talking when I saw a dark figure pass the large window, just behind my co-worker. I thought, "Oh, someone forgot something or it was a river floater who decided to stop." As it was, the property sat on a river and we would have floaters stop for a game of golf or a drink at our bar. I didn't say anything, but ran out of the lodge, and saw, that's right, nothing.

My co-worker wanted to know what I was doing, and I told her I saw someone walk by the window, or at least their shadow. "It could have been a bear," she suggested. Bears were always trying to get into our coolers, but there was no bear.

Does anyone else have any ghost stories to tell? It is Easter, the ultimate ghost story if I've ever heard one. (Jesus died, then appears to all his followers...I'm just sayin')