Gør som tusindvis af andre bogelskere
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Welcome to our year of living compactly. My dog, Mister, and I took to the road pulling our A-frame trailer, the Rollin' Rancho. I'm a traveling horse trainer/clinician, who became a non-essential worker during the COVID-19 lockdown. Then, in 2022, we bounced back. We were nomads looking for horse training adventure and liver treats. Work paid for the trip; it was part clinic tour, part travelogue, part squirrel hunt. But mostly an unapologetic celebration of sunsets, horses, RV parks, roadkill, diverse landscapes, and undomesticated women.It's a book made of made of adjectives and nouns, blue skies and tornado watches, resorts and reservations, open roads to the horizon, and one-lane dead-ends. We emerge from the truck in a cloud of dog hair and sunflower shells, like disoriented and scruffy rock stars in a GPS haze, not entirely lost or found.This book isn't about training, although there are horses in it. It's a follow-up of Stable Relation, my first book, but my life changed in ways I would never have guessed, so don't expect the usual sequel. Undomesticated Women is a travel memoir, a peek behind the curtains of what my job is like. I wanted to see this beautiful country, do some time travel, and explore thoughts and memories now that I've become a gray mare.Mister would tell you it's his memoir about being tasked with the unreasonable job of guarding me against a wild range of dangers. Like eating dinner late. He's a dog unimpressed with my tiny fame.
A collection of poetry from a small farm on the Colorado prairie; tiny stories in simple words, praise for the beautiful fragile land, and love poems to horses. This is a 106-page book of poetry and full-color photography, a softcover mini-coffee table book. Some heartfelt, some humorous, these poems are a howl to the prairie wind. I'm a woman on a farm, wonderstruck by this simple life with its plain beauty; the comfort of daily chores and bittersweet sunsets. Even my words can't look away. And the horses. This "old gray mare" isn't over that girlish phase. None of us are, so I write love poems to horses, putting words to this equine passion that powers a central part of our lives. What is it that pulls us so fiercely to horses? Horse Prayers is poetry but this love affair with brevity doesn't threaten my long-term relationship with writing non-fiction. It's more like an inky ménage à trois. Wish We felt them closebefore we had skin;from an infinite prairiethe vibration began.A slow rolling nicker rumbled, more feltthan heard. Horsescalled to us, beforewe were born, so wewould remember their warm breath when wefirst saw fairy-tale imagesin children's books. Wewere theirs long beforewe called them our own.
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