Monthly Archives: Jun 2014

IMG_2247In Mick’s spare time he’s been forging custom knives. The weight and balance of each is beautiful. Terrifyingly sharp.

IMG_2248Scraping hides.

IMG_2250Damascus steel. Each layer a step in the process. I asked Mick how long it takes. He smiled and said, “Time.”

IMG_2252Bowie knife. “It must be long enough to use as a sword, sharp enough to use as a razor, wide enough to use as a paddle, and heavy enough to use as a hatchet.” – Russell T Johnson.


IMG_2253One tiny pit.


Alder handle with a skull cracking, polished steel base.



“Veronica” to my Betty, just gave me this. I opened it and thought, “Oh weird, it must be a pattern book for baby clothes.” Nope. It’s a scholastic book of clean pages with those sky blue lines running horizontally and one pink vertical line on the far left. On the back are addition and multiplication tables, and a arithmetic table in french and english. According to the chart on the back;

63 Gallons equals 1 Hogshead.

24 Sheets of paper equals 1 Quire.

20 Quires equals 1 Ream.

Awesome, Maryke. xox.


This is one of my favorite times of year in town.

Muscle cars rumbling up and down the lake shore for the Peach City Beach Cruise. Elvis impersonators singing in the band shell. The weather isn’t quite in the 30’s, the sun is hot but the breeze cools you off. Everywhere is green, fresh and alive. The town hasn’t been over run by holidaying douche bags and Mount lizards, drumming on the beach.

It also marks my departure. Heading 2.5 hours north with Luka, before dawn. I pack 2 months worth of reading material for free moments, basic supplies, gum boots, bedding for both of us; even though she climbs up on my bed as soon as I leave her in the cabin. Show supplies: Fenix flashlight, Pentax headlamp, Victorinox multi-tool, Swiss army knife, fold-able pruning saw, clippers, gloves, rope. Script & zipper binder, a case of markers, pencils, pens, a watch for timing. My paint respirator randomly comes in handy. I usually regret not bringing my tool pouch and end up retrieving it on an over night visit home. Boots for working around the horses. Incense, talismans, little gifts, water jugs and mason jars. Foam roller, neuspine, yoga mat, pilates ball. It’s crazy how much I pack into the 4 Runner. Luka takes up the whole back seat.


I feel some what bad taking her away from the lake to this high plateau in the mountains. A 20 minute drive from any body of water she can wade in. She accepts the trade for all the horse poop she can eat, chasing fat Colombian ground squirrels, a month long love affair with her girlfriend Bella, and midnight rendezvous in the compost. From leashed walks in a traffic heavy downtown to the forests and fields of farm life. Dirt patches in the shade, snapping at wasps around the picnic tables and a full company of ear scratches and belly rubs. Laying in bed, ears up to the wild ones. Coyotes howling down on the rock, a ruckus chorus, living wild and free.