Within this blog I have two blogs going on, one for western stories and one on heritage and trail cooking. You can reach either site within the other blog.
The first; For those interested in Old West short stories, click on that category. My stories are written on the spur of the moment. Nothing ticks me off more than spending $10 or more on a paperback then finding the story sucked! Now I’m not saying mine are any better than a published author gets printed, it’s just that I like endings that leave me with the feeling that the time I spent reading it was worth its while. I also love history. You’ll find that many times I place the characters or story itself in a setting that at the time was or still is real. Eg: The storm of the century involves a real storm that occurred in 1950 but I claim artistic license as to the events of the characters. My theory is that the unadulterated truth can be pretty boring, so I lie my tail off to make it a readable story…or something like that. I call it truthful fiction!
The second; My heritage cooking blog. This is a blog on Heritage cooking recipes and related stuff. I once had someone tell me that my recipe was the same as the one they found online. I do scan the cooking sites but don’t copy their recipes then claim I got it from my great grandmother on her death bed. I explained it like this. If your great grandma had a really good recipe, do you think she held it in a bank vault and left it in her will to you? Nope, she shared it with friends and family. How many times have we shared our favorite recipes with others….I bet tons of times! So a family from Idaho can have the same recipe as one in Texas because that recipe was at one time in the past shared. It’s like a family tree. So, don’t get upset if you see your own grandma’s secret recipe for Russian Borscht online under Kim Soo’s Chinese cooking secrets! In this blog, I’ll talk about cast iron ware, old recipes, cowboy beans an’ whatever else comes into my head.
About the Author; The old west has always fascinated me. As a kid in Idaho my brothers and I used to scavenge the Oregon trail that cut through our farm for junk the wagon trail folks left alongside the road. I grew up with Hoppalong Cassidy, Sheriff Spud and yodeling cowboys. As much as I wanted to write my own stories of the old west, I was too busy trying to put food on the table most times to even consider it. I’m kinda’ retired now due to a good beating I got when I fell off a tall building I was working on, so now I find myself with the time to write. Since the accident, I’ve been thinking of changing my name also to Hoppalong but accuracy would dictate I call myself instead, stumble-a-long!
When I was younger (and not so stove up) my wife and I worked on a large cattle ranch. She cooked for the hands and I bossed ’em around! My years spent in the saddle inspecting and mending fences, chasing cows out of the brush, driving cattle to new pasture and sleeping many nights under the stars gave me a new appreciation for our Lord and Creator. He sure did make some awful fine scenery to gaze at while I worked the range!
I miss the cowboy life and live it vicariously now in my writing. I’ll be soon writing from a new location soon though…moving from Florida here back out west onto a small hobby farm/ranch. This time I’ll take my boots off in Arizona. I find it a pleasant State even though I find it a bit too chilly in July and find myself throwin’ a log or two into the firebox…ONLY KIDDING! Darn heat’ll roast a pig into bacon while its busy drinkin’ water!
I was in Cave Creek Arizona one afternoon having some lunch at a local cowboy watering hole when a man and his woman road up on horseback, hitched ‘em to the rail and clunked on inside with their tall heel’d western boots clunking an’ spurs jingling on the wooden walkway. They had been riding to town and because of the days heat, decided to stop and grab a cold one at the Buffalo Chip Saloon there. Now that’s my idea of what a town should be like! I tip my hat to any town still allowing horses on their streets and to those establishments kind enough to provide hitching rails and watering troughs for thirsty Nags.