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Just a short clip

Not much happening around here lately, but I did finally leave the house and go for a walk, and I filmed some of it for you viewing pleasure. I think it may be a bit jerky as I made it low res to upload quicker, sorry.

Did you notice the stiff legged pee position that Belle has now?

Updated: My apologies to those who asked about the music, I realised I hadn’t put it in the credits until it was too late, and it takes too long to redo the whole process, so here it is… it was the Canadian band Bourne and MacLeod, the song was Dance and Celebrate.


For Me???

Yesterday as I was chatting to Equoni, a package arrived on my front verandah. Here’s the interesting bit, it was actually a package from Equoni. I was both surprised an alarmed, surprised because it was totally unexpected, and alarmed because I had never given her my address! But then I remembered that Swampy had it, and that she had threatened to write it on the wall of the Colorado Springs bus stop, so it turns out that Equoni wasn’t really a stalker, she was just someone waiting for a bus.

But before I get into the package, there are a couple of other thankyous that have been owing for a long time. First off, about ten years ago (I know it was that long ago because she was still blogging at the time) Beccy (Peppermint Tea) sent me a few tasteful items (with some input from ChrisB)…

But wait! There’s more……

The first one is a postcard, the second, a thick plastic sign. Very nice of them to send me a 12″ x 10″ saying that men are full of crap don’t you think? There was also a fridge magnet that I absolutely love, but I’m too lazy to go to the other end of the house and get a photo, another time. Thank you Chris and Beccy!! Hugs….

Now this next one is a bit more complicated. A while ago Beckie (sounds the same but spelled different) had a sort of “Welcome to my new Blog, I’m quitting” give-away that I happened to win. I wasn’t trying to win anything, I was just saying hello. Anyway, she sent me a $50 Amazon gift certificate, which ordinarily would have been fine, but since there’s no Amazon in Oz, it would have cost almost the entire value of the certificate for shipping. But as luck would have it, MDW just happened to be in LA for the past month, so I forwarded it on to her, and she’s now the proud owner of an iPod Shuffle. Thanks Beckie…(smooch).

Ok, on to yesterday’s package, let’s see what in it….

Could it be? No! No-one knows of my secret obsession with bubble wrap!!! I can’t believe it! Woo hoo…

Okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a knot, I’m getting to it…

Have you ever seen wrapping paper like that before? I know I haven’t! Ok, so now I’ll just show you what was under the wrapping without any further commentary….

Take it from me, if you’ve never had Huckleberry chocolates, you haven’t lived!

Thank you C.

Who is Equoni, finally answered!!!

According to the results of the poll, some of you have expressed curiosity about who I am…some of you have expressed dismay that a stranger is encroaching on Willowtree’s hallowed ground, some of you would prefer pet porn.  For those of you who are curious, hopefully this post will help…for those of you who are dismayed…sorry, I’m still here…in spite of the sheer hell I’ve put him through the past week, Willowtree has not killed me…YET…although the letterbomb could be in the mail as I speak.  For those who want pet porn, sorry, not this time…maybe next time.

First of all, my name.  Equoni.  Pronounced: Eh Quo nee.  It’s Cherokee.  It means River.  Why River?  Because I grew up on the Gallatin River, in the Gallatin Canyon, in Montana, and my River remains my most special, sacred place.

classic view (2)

I still live in Montana, although unfortunately I am about 3-4 hours away from my River, depending on the roads and the season.

This is the view from my house.

My View

The love of my life was an angel in a puppy-suit named Marley.  She was my baby, my life, my world, my everything.  If you believe a soulmate is the joining of two souls that find each other through all of eternity and make one perfect match, she was it for me.  I lost her 3 1/2 years ago.  Hopefully I’ll be able to share more about her in later posts.  But here are a couple pictures of her:

1st time in River

This was her very first time in the River!

7th Birthday

As for me, most of my career has been spent in Veterinary medicine, starting as a weekend kennel manager, then as a veterinary assistant, then finally as an office manager.  When I was temporarily displaced in Colorado for a few years (this is when I lived next door to the famed Swampy…and also to two wonderful people you’ll come to know as the Author and the Editor) I worked as a surgery coordinator for 6 surgeons who also covered trauma call for a level two trauma center.  These jobs have left me with the special gift that I can decipher just about anybody’s handwriting!

While no one will ever take Marley’s place or make up for her loss, I have been very lucky to have another special dog come into my life.  Poncho is a great dog…his best qualities are the fact that he makes me laugh, I mean REALLY laugh every single day, and also he is the world’s best cuddler.


Well, hopefully I have cleared up some of the mystery!  Or at least added something of interest to your ongoing confusion!

I fit right in here.

I've always been one to keep a low profile, blend in with my surroundings, go unnoticed in a crowd. The reason for this is twofold, a) I'm basically a shy person who dreads attention (despite some of the things I've done), and b) my father who was neurotic drilled into me from the day I could walk, that I should be like the Shadow.

So what I wear is a bit of a dilemma for me here in the country, I could wear the uniform* of Akubra hat, Dryzabone coat, and Moleskin pants and RM Williams boots (if you don't believe me, check this out), or I could wear what I've always worn:- baseball cap, shorts, t-shirt and thongs (the footwear you dirty perverts!). So while I'm physically comfortable with my fashion choices, mentally it's another matter when you stick out like dog's balls on a cat.

Apart from the uniform costing three times the GDP (GNP for the Yanks out there) of a small nation, I've always felt uncomfortable dressing up as something I'm not (except when I go out with my tranny friends, that's different), so I just stick to my citified clothes and live with the stares of amazement. This means that the people who don't know me think I'm some sort of freak because I wear bizarre clothes (and yes, where I live 'bizarre clothes' means anything that isn't part of the uniform), and the people who do know me think I'm a freak because I let the dogs inside the house (which is considered even more bizarre than wearing strange clothes).

So it's been a bit of a struggle to fit in here in banjo county, but imagine my excitement today when I saw this on my way into town (it was at the end of my property)…

road kill

At last I'll be able to cement my place in rural society by alerting the owner that one of his calves has been hit by a car, thus allowing him to check his fences. So I swung by his place and told his wife (now, I don't do my good deeds for reward, but hey, if they want to give me stuff that's fine too). She said that she'd call him on his mobile (cell phone), and I continued on my way to do some shopping.

When I got home there was a message on my answering machine. It was Brett (the owner)

"Hey WT, next time I'm around your place I'll have to give you… [yes! score! here's comes the meat tray!]… a farmyard book. [WTF?!?! what's he talking about?] That's not a calf, that's a pig."

Well fuck me! Now I really feel like a country boy (not!), however in my defence, it was the same size as a calf and there are a bunch of calves in the paddock next to the road there.

It would have come from one of these as there are no pigs around my property (this picture was taken a couple of years ago, but funnily enough, they are parked directly across the road from where the pig was laying. click if for a better shot of the rigs that they use)…


* I'm serious, everyone wears this outfit, it feel like I'm walking through a school yard every time I go into town.

** This was a bit of a linkfest, sorry.

A drive in the country.

I mentioned yesterday that I visited a fellow blogger. What I didn’t say, was that where she lives makes my place look like downtown LA! I have privacy, she has isolation, lots of bumpy, winding, treacherous dirt roads with very little indication as to whether you’re going the right way.

Beautiful country though, and I got to meet a couple of bikers (in fact I even had a beer with them) when I stopped at their club house in the middle of nowhere to ask for directions. I did have directions from my blog buddy, but we won’t got into that.

I took a few pictures of the trip, and here’s the kicker, I’m going to give a prize to the first person who correctly identifies the subject of the second and third pictures (that is, anyone except Caroline)

The last signs of civilisation before we hit the dirt track….

Identify is this mystery object…

Here’s a closer look…

This time you really need to work for your prize, in the past I’ve had the answer before the ink dried on the post. If you don’t want a prize then they’re pretty pictures anyway, and no-one says you have to try to guess the answer. I’m fairly certain it won’t be a simple google exercise this time. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll offer a consolation prize to anyone who can tell me where my footie team came from originally.

Home at last!


How Embarassement!!!
Have you ever parked your car next to an identical one in a parking lot and when you came back from, the shops, try to get into the wrong one? Well that happened to me this morning. MDW gave me some of her frequent flyer points so I went and bought a 120Gb external drive (romantic aren’t I?).

I noticed the car when I pulled in so I should have remembered, but I was just so jazzed about getting a new toy that I didn’t pay attention. The thing is, I got in all right, it was only when I went to start it that I noticed that Bentley and Buddy were in the car next to me, and this got me thinking that i may have the wrong car. It was a simple enough mistake, see for yourself…


What?!?! Hey I can’t tell the difference between a candy and a crispbread, how the fuck am I supposed to distinguish between a Feroza and a Ferrari?! Boy you should have seen that baby, the hood (which is actually behind the seats), was Perspex or something so you could see the engine, sweet!

Oh, by the way, I’m giving a prize or two for the best and most correct rewrite of the first paragraph of this post. (Grammar counts)

Ok, we’ve got three winners, they are all a little different, Viva la difference! (ChrisB was the closest to how I would have written it)

WT’s Big Cooking Adventure.

I got a few comments about the dinner I was going to make on Fun Monday, and luckily I got them before I made it so I took pictures.  As you may know, my past attempts at cooking lessons haven’t been all that spectacular, I mean they’re better than Ree’s, but shit, that bar ain’t set too high!

Before we start, I must warn you that there will be lots of technical terminology used here, so you might want to keep a cook book with a decent glossary handy.

Let’s proceed shall we?

Fig A. First get all the shit you’re going to throw into the pot and put it all in one place. This is absolutely essential if you want to take a photo of it before it all becomes food.

Fig B. Next cuberize the chook. This must be done because eating soup with a knife, fork and spoon just looks fucking stupid.

Fig C. Now turn up the volume in the pot until the chook makes a lot of of noise and then add the flavour (that’s the stuff in the bottles) until the house starts to smell nice.

Fig D. While the chook is making noises and smelling nice, small up the vegetables making sure you don’t get any turnip (which was actually a swede) in the picture in case someone complains about it. Those small onion looking goobers are really single clove garlic.

Fig E. When you get tired of smalling vegetables, throw everything in the pot so that the Tumeric can make them all the same colour. Keep the volume on high for a while and then pour in the box of chook juice.

Fig F. Your soup should now look like this. Oh I almost forgot (again), once the juice is in, turn the volume down low (I actually forgot to do this, and when I came back from reading some Fun Monday posts there was soup everywhere!).  Cook for at least one daytime talk show and two sitcom reruns.

Fig G. Eventually it should look like this. I added some mushrooms because they were getting a bit old. It actually tasted pretty good, go figure!

I had planned to take a nice setup photo of the finished product, ie. the soup in a nice plate with a toasted English muffin on the side and a napkin, but by the time I got to that point, I had lost interest in the whole blogging thing and just wanted to eat it.