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Sunday Column: My name

Well, for an Italian ranch now run by a young wolfie like Sacha, the old one thinks this site and this kind of news are absolutely needed (and the farm is called Daughters of the Wolf, even better and we have a Jessica here too, right in the picture at the bottom). Thank you Jessie, if you’ll ever be in Italy, here we are home too! Una bella persona, delle belle foto, della bella musica e pure dei bellissimi cavalli… Impossibile non stabilire un nesso, con tutte queste cowgirls (e avendo una Jessica con noi (qui sotto, a destra, sul suo Macho).

Sacha e Jessica, a destra

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Jessie Veeder
I tried to change my name to Stephanie when I was in kindergarten. A little boy named August raised his hand during sharing hour and asked to be called Gus, and, well, I thought that meant in kindergarten we got to change our names. So I raised my hand and declared that everyone must now call me Stephanie.

My sweet teacher looked at me, no doubt trying to stifle her laughter at the little weirdo before her, and calmly declared she thought Jessica was a nice name and I should keep it.

I was bummed. This was the 80s after all and Stephanie was the name of my favorite character on Full House. But I carried on as Jessica until second grade when we moved to the ranch and, struck with a sudden urge to shorten things up, I introduced myself to my new country school classmates as Jessie.


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The Winter Cowboy

Beautiful picture… We know pretty well what are you talking about as you can see from the few of our place we added on the reblogging. Snow seasons are back in Italy and allover the world: maybe General Winter didin’t heard about Al Gore’s rants.

IMG_0366_1We’re getting ready for the new white coming and our horses and friends too. Come visit us!

Questa bella foto in apertura ha vinto un tot di premi internazionali e ci dà la scusa per pubblicare alcune delle nostre, riguardanti gli inverni scorsi, IMG_0359_1sempre più freddi e incuranti dei ragli di Al Gore. Sue Thomson, l’autrice dello scatto, ha colto il cowboy in questione nel bel mezzo delle Black Hills, le colline sacre, nel Nord Est del Wyoming.

Getaway Images

Early one cold winter morning, five cowboys saddled up and rode out into the snow covered fields of the Black Hills of Northeastern Wyoming.
It is not often that a young Aussie lass, that would be me, has the chance to have real cowboys at her beck and call and shoot images. Not even a temperature of minus 30 degrees and a howling wind, could dampen my excitement.
After shooting for a while, I asked Tommy to go into the forest and then weave back out through the trees towards me. His horse spooked, he crashed through some branches, he cussed, he cussed very loudly, the snow dropped on to his hat…..and that was the shot I was after!
This image has won a number of international awards, including a Silver Award in the 2012 International Loupe Awards.

Winter in Wyoming Red Bubble

“Winter In Wyoming”     © Sue Thomson 2012

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WWII Code Talkers get their Medals

La Rover Joe al RanchLot of info, thanks a lot for this. And also for a couple of pepper ideas that are pretty good (look at ours at nine del lobo). Take care and thanks. Un mucchio di informazioni sui Comanche e in particolare sul ruolo degli operatori radio in lingua nativa durante la Seconda Guerra Mondiale. Basta cliccare sul sito sotto il titolo, poi su successivo e le notizie abbondano (in inglese). Per chi volesse studiarlo (l’inglese, non il Comanche), ricordate che da noi si insegna anche quello.


Here is a link to a great article written by a fellow Hub Writer about the recent medal awards for Code Talkers in WWII.

Check it out:

Comanche Code Talkers

by Don Bobbitt


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There is still hope, if somebody was writing about this kind of people… And if there are still ears and minds ready to listen. So long, Bill.
Poche parole per ricordare un cowboy passato di là dal fiume nel 1999, dopo 93 anni passati quasi sempre a cavallo. L’articolo è ripreso dal New York Times, quindi non proprio la massima espressione del mondo di Bill Dorrance, ma l’intento è buono e il senso della cosa pure. Il finale del pezzo, soprattutto, è da sottoscrivere in pieno: “e’ dura accettare che tutto quello che sai dei cavalli potrebbe cambiare non appena incontrerai il prossimo”. Un bravo anche a Verlyn che scrisse il pezzo, allora. Keep riding!

High On Horses

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A HORSE WHISPERER. There never has been and never will be. The idea is an affront to the horse. You can talk and listen to horses all you want, and what you will learn, if you pay close attention, is that they live on open ground way beyond language and that language, no matter how you characterize it, is a poor trope for what horses understand about themselves and about humans. You need to practice only three things, patience, observation and humility, all of which were summed up in the life of an old man who died Tuesday (July 20, 1999) in California, a man named Bill Dorrance.

Dorrance was 93, and until only a few months before his death he still rode and he still roped. He was one of a handful of men, including his brother Tom, who in separate ways have…

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