Six girls…

Six girls sit

Sunburned hands wrapped around comforting mugs of black coffee

Sharing stories, thoughts and “I love your HAIR!”

Six girls sit

Once upon a time’s, one day’s and “This year at Californio’s!”

Plans are laid

Giggles shared 

Voices raised and laughter made

Six girls sit

What a year this will be

Montana, Nevada, California and Wyoming

Hope the truck makes it

And let’s make breakfast for dinner

Six girls sit

What a yellow brick road we ride upon

The dreams we gather

And memories roped

 

 

xoxo

 

~Adrian 

The Stories they can tell…

Today, sitting in the kitchen sipping cups of hot black coffee and chatting with our Grandparents-Liz & I heard the craziest thing…..

When my grandpa was younger he apparently was minding his own business, when he looked up and saw a plane of Howard Hughes go down over the wall he was sitting on…

(This is the point in the story when Liz and I chime in with a chorus of ”YOU WHAT GRANDPA?!?!?!”

These are the sorts of things that pop up when you hang around my family, and it makes me always get a little nervous about what I’m going to be like if I make it past 20. My family has a habit of being loud, crazy excitable, and selling everything they own and moving to foreign countries.

So apparently, I come by my need to always be on the move naturally. While down south, I’ve heard more and more of my history of strong, brave, and independent women who weren’t afraid to go after what they wanted in my family. It’s rather reassuring to find out that my great grandmother taught piano, sang like a bird and loved to go for midnight drives to get coffee just like me…also that my strange obsession with sky-diving, throwing myself off of high places for fun, and generally scaring my family with things that aren’t safe come from an uncle who created the concept of “fun loving”.

Probably one of my favorite family stories I have heard this week, has been about my Dare-Devil Uncle Dennis, the sky diver. Apparently, he was on a NIGHT-TIME skydive—and being related to me, he decided to wrap himself in christmas lights before throwing himself out of the plane.

Sadly, Uncle did not land where he was supposed to, and ended up falling head over heels into the back yard of a suburban housewife in her robe and hair still in curlers. While uncle was untangling himself from his chute, she rushed outside to see what had caused the commotion. Seeing the frightened woman, and forgetting that he was covered in lights, had just dropped from the sky, and was now in her backyard in the middle of the night, Uncle innocently asked the poor woman where he was….

 

She reportedly screamed “EARTH!”….ran back to her house and slammed the door as fast as she could! 

 

I just can see that poor woman still telling her grandchildren about the night that a UFO landed in her backyard and she saw a man from Mars!!! :) 

 

Love to you all from the City of Santa Clarita and a very happy blonde Buckaroogirl! 

Xoxo

~Adrian 

My hands may not be your kind of beautiful….

Hands

Written & composed by Adrian Brannan, Buckaroogirl Publishing. All rights reserved. 

They’re torn and cracked

Weathered and worn

Ripped and bruised

And they’re brown and strong

And they may not be

Beautiful

But they get the job done

And they can cut a calf

And rope a cow

Set a trap

Shoot coyotes

Hold the reins

Hold a hand

They live for God

But they work like a man

Two silver rings

No diamond things

Burns from cast iron

And the branding fire

Painted up

On a Saturday night

Can be pretty good

Bought breaking up a fight

My hands may not be

Your kind of beautiful

And they can cut a calf

And rope a cow

Set a trap

Shoot coyotes

Hold the reins

Hold a hand

They live for God

But they work like a man

And sometimes they fail me

When I don’t know

Quite what to do

But they’re never idol

Never still

Have to have hard work

And always will

And they can cut a calf and

Rope a cow

St a trap

Shoot coyotes

Sew a patch for a baby boy

They may look small

But they work like a man

My hands may not be

Your kind of beautiful

They’re torn and cracked

Ripped and bruised

And they’re

Beautiful

And they get the job

Done

Purchase the song “Hands” at the link below from the new album “Buckaroogirl

http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/buckaroogirl/id505194338

Steaming cup of coffee to go…

Steaming to-go cup of coffee

The way that old rope horse walks up just to say hello

Packing again and Dang, I need a new bag

 

Guitar strings buzzing out the rhythm of the tires

And the feel of those red and blue burning stage lights

Filling up yet again, two in the morning still on the road

 

The arrival at the fairgrounds

The hellos and checking over gear before this mare

The one that you’ve been itching to get on for months now

A cold drink and no thanks to that cigarette they all expect you to take

 

Ill just sing my way out of this state and onto the next show

You don’t know how this smile brings a song to my heart

 

This life on the road

This song in my heart

 

Xoxo

 

Adrian Buckaroogirl

 

A Cultured Cowgirl….

Hello loves!

I’m so excited to introduce a truly wonderful friend of mine to the Buckaroogirl blog, I am sure you have already heard of her-but today I want to give you a little insight into the life of the “Cultured Cowgirl!”  

Since I was a little girl, I’ve had the opportunity to meet some really AMAZING and talented women. Strong, independent and talented could describe the majority of them! 

But sometimes, you come across one of those once-in-a-lifetime gals that really make’s an impact on your life. Jennifer Dennison is that once-in-a-lifetime person to me. 

She came full speed into my life like a redheaded blessing in boots. Complete with enough talent to fill the state of Texas, and a heart that is bigger than a Dave Weaver loop on branding day. 

Whether she is writing, photographing, riding or trucking across the country to cover a story-she is the epitome of grace and kindness, and a true example to the western community of what a cowgirl should be. 

I could go on and on…and on in my silly way-but I have found that there is no better way to tell a story than to let the main character lead the way! 

So my friends, enjoy! 

Much love! 

Xoxo

~Adrian 

(A) What age and why did you start writing, and when did you know that was what you wanted to do?

I became serious about writing when I was in the 8th grade. I was selecting my electives for my freshman year of high school, and I saw journalism on the list and decided I wanted that to be my elective, no art, accounting, band or choir. I couldn’t paint or draw, I didn’t enjoy math, and my musical skills, let’s just say I would’ve failed. However, I could write, and I liked to write.

The only problem was that the journalism class was open only to sophomores or higher. I wasn’t about to let that deter my ambition, so I marched over to the high school to the journalism teacher’s classroom intent on proving to him he should let me into the class as a freshman, and it worked.

All through high school, I took journalism very seriously, writing for my school newspaper and serving as yearbook editor. It was like a job to me. My journalism teacher, Mr. Ken Killgore was very encouraging and spent extra time after class and during breaks helping me hone my skills and teaching me photography. When I was a junior in high school he encouraged me to write an article for the Colorado High School Journalism Day competition. The article had to be on substance abuse. I chose to write about chewing tobacco, and my article won.

By the time I was a senior in high school, I had my own weekly column in my hometown newspaper. Called “The Dog & Pony Show,” the column focused on horse- and rodeo-related topics. At that point, I realized I wanted to combine my passion for horses and writing into a productive career as an equine journalist. With that goal in mind, I double-majored in Equine Science and Journalism at Colorado State University in Fort Collins, Colorado. I did consider going into public relations for an equine or rodeo organization, but in a twist of fate my focus was directed toward magazine publishing.

My sophomore year of college, my newswriting instructor encouraged me to enter a scholarship program for aspiring equine journalists through the American Horse Publications. I won the scholarship and a trip to the organization’s annual conference in Lexington, Kentucky. Editors from all the major horse magazines were there, and all eyes were on me, the student award winner. From that point on, I knew writing for a horse magazine was going to be my destiny.

(A) How old where you when you started riding?

My dad is a cowboy, and he always had a horse or mule around when I was growing up. I have pictured of me horseback as a baby, barely able to sit up. However, I didn’t decide I wanted to take riding seriously until I was 12 years old. Now that I think about it, that’s the same year I decided to approach that journalism teacher. Apparently, it was a pivotal time in my life!

When I committed to riding, I did it all the way, and my parents were incredibly supportive. They hauled me to 4-H clinics, gymkhanas and Little Britches Rodeos nearly every weekend for five or six years. When we weren’t going to horse shows or rodeos, my dad and I were trail riding in the mountains to keep my barrel horses fit.

(A) Who has influenced you the most in life? Father/family/friends ect..

Being an only child, I would have to say my parents have been my biggest influence on every aspect of my life. They taught me that in order to be good at something I had to work hard, think hard and practice. They also made me accountable and appreciative for everything in my life.

I also have to give credit to my writing mentors, Sue Copeland, Jennifer Forsberg Meyer, Rene Riley and Juli Thorson, who graciously took a naive 23-year-old girl, fresh out of college and gave me a chance as assistant editor of Horse & Rider Magazine, where I worked from 1996-2002, before joining the staff at Western Horseman.

(A) What is is you love about your job/lifestyle and what advice could you give other aspiring writers?

What I love most about my job is meeting salt-of-the-earth people who work in some facet of the Western lifestyle, whether it’s ranching, training horses, painting or making custom gear, and finding out what drives them to do what they do so well and how events in their lives shaped them and pointed them on their chosen path.

The best advice I can offer aspiring writers, and that I need to work on doing myself, is reading great writing, studying words and their meanings, keeping a journal about writing and setting aside a chuck of time to do it everyday. The only way to be a writer is to sit down and do it, study good writing, and do it some more.

(A) What is your favorite part about the western lifestyle? 

The things I like most about the Western lifestyle are the simplicity, family values and connection to the land, horses, cattle and wildlife. When you are in harmony with your environment, you can achieve inner peace, and vice versa. The same things applies to working with horses.

(A) Favorite: Music, Clothing Brand, Western Getaway, gear-maker, artist, cook ect…

Music: I have extremely eclectic music tastes, ranging from 80s metal bands to instrumentals to pop and country. However, I would say my favorite type of music the majority of the time is folk and roots-based music, which encompasses cowboy music. I really identify with and appreciate a good story song.

Clothing Brand: Living in the Colorado mountains, I have a fetish for wool, so I love anything from Pendleton, Woolrich and Filson. And, of course, Carhartt is a staple.

Western Getaway: I can’t explain why, but I can’t get enough of Elko County, Nevada. The small-town atmosphere, nearby Ruby Mountains and high-desert landscape really feels like my home away from home. I also never tire of exploring the mountain trails, waterfalls and the beautiful high country in my home state of Colorado.

Gear maker: I have a huge appreciation for rawhide braiders and horsehair hitchers/braiders. There’s something about the texture, patterns and feel of rawhide and horsehair that fascinates me. I have so many favorites, including Doug Krause, Merlin Rupp, Leland Hensley, Nate Wald, Pablo Lazano and many others who do beautiful work.

Artist: Western artists hold a special place in my life, because I’m amazed at their vision, discipline and talent. Plus, through their work I am transported to a particular time and place that in some cases I can only dream about. Some of my favorite artists are Karmel Timmons, Mikel Donahue, Tim Cox, Bill Owen, William Matthews and Carrie Ballentyne. I also like the whimsical illustrator-style of Larry Bute and Will James.

Cook: Rachael Ray. I admire her ability to just be herself, act silly and not bring stuffy, gormet attitudes and ingredients into the kitchen. I’d love to see her do a show with a chuckwagon cook.

Favorite Western songs: Night Rider’s Lament, Don Edwards’ Coyote Song and Navajo Rug. I also can’t get enough of Brenn Hills’ songs on his album equine. They’re so personal and heartfelt, as well as his older song Call You Cowboy. From your collection, Adrian, Missing You still touches me on a deep level, as does Drifting Vaquero and Will James Days.

(A) What are your hopes for this new year and new projects we should be watching for?

I would really like to devote more time in 2012 to riding my own horses and advancing my horsemanship and confidence to the level it once was and even beyond. As far as my writing, I just want to continue to tell the stories of interesting people and horses who are usually overlooked and let their experiences inspire and educate Western Horseman readers. In the new year I have an article coming out on a chuckwagon cooking school I attended, hunting cattle with Gail Steiger and Amy Auker on the Spider Ranch in Arizona, the heritage and origins of roots-based Western music, a profile on Mike Beck and many more stories having to do with horsemanship, ranch rodeo and authentic cowboy culture.

Something people might not know about me: If I wasn’t a writer, I’d likely pursue a career in interior decorating. I have a small business with my mom called Calico Cowgirl Co., and we sell primitive and Western antiques, gifts and home decor. I devote most of my Saturdays to that facet of my life.

*Make sure you go check out Jennifer’s Blog at :

(http://blogs.westernhorseman.com/culturedcowgirl/)

Just curious….

Hello loves!

I seem to keep getting a lot of the same questions lately so I thought I’d throw together a lil Q&A post!

Enjoy! <3

 

 

Where is your phone? In the deep dark depths of my purse somewhere….hmmm…maybe I outta grab that!

Your hair? A HUGE mess! The curls have been unpinned from a dinner date and I am now rockin my version of a cowboy-fro. Thank-you, thank-you very much!

Your Mother? Amazing, wild and much too far away right now!

Your Father? Terrifying to most.

Your favourite food? Is this a trick question? ALL food is loved equally…unless its Basque food….in which case it’s the best most amazing thing ever.

Your dream last night? Really horribly weird and not terribly comforting! 

Your favourite drink? Hot black coffee in massive amounts.

Your dream/goal? Too many to name and not enough time to chase!

What room are you in? Motel room 456…hehe

Your hobby? Unwater-basket-knitting and making noise. Lots of noise….

Your fear? Haven’t you heard? I have none silly!

Where were you last night? Tucked up in my bedroll at home listening to vintage Christmas music…*le sigh*

Something that you’re not? Tall. Drat.

Muffins? NO!!! Soughdough biskets

Wishlist item? Books, Dylan Sponseller Leggins, a truck that steers and everyone to be happy and healthy!

Where did you grow up? The question is where have I not?

Last thing you did? Drive, Drive, Eat, laugh, walk, laugh, giggle.

What are you wearing? Vintage cotton shorts & shirt polka-dot set…

Your TV? Pandora radio…

Your pets? NOT HERE! I wanted to try & to sneak them in the hotel…not gonna happen!

Friends? Always there..

Your life? Spinning at the moment…

Your mood? Sleepy, excited and slightly lonely…

Missing someone? Pretty much..

Vehicle? A little tempermentle….

Something you’re not wearing? A frown!

Your favourite store? Bookstore, antique and thrifty’s!  

Your favourite colour? Pink, red…..happy colors!

When was the last time you laughed? Haven’t stopped since this morning!

The last time you cried? Darlings….I don’t cry, remember?!  

Your best friend? Stuck doing Homework!

One place that you go to over and over? Highway 80,I-5, 101 S (we’re all buds!)

 

Facebook? Sadly yes….

 

 

Favourite place to eat? The star….Biltolkis…Home with mama! 

 

 

 

Xoxo

~Adrian

Cleaning day…Buckaroogirl style!

Hello loves!

On the off chance that there is a day where Liz and I are not working, or in the truck screaming Five Fingered Death Punch on our way to a rodeo, or involved in some midnight driving spree to a performance drinking coffee while Liz screams for her life around every corner or stoplight, or involved in some illegal activity which we wont discuss here as to incriminate ourselves….we can be found at home. In our little blue house in town with orange curtains, a rickety half painted table in the dining room, and more books than dishes in the cupboards.

 

 

I was all for drawing on the walls when we first moved in, but Liz shut that down by realizing what I was attempting when I went wizzing by in my un-matching socks with three sharpie’s, a paintbrush and some furniture varnish hell bent on the hallway with wicked intentions…..explaining that our landlords might have kittens if they saw our decorating techniques.

 

So scratch that.

 

I ended up having to paint on canvas to hang on the walls….but it’s actually ended up being quite nice! Few things exist that Liz and I enjoy more than finding a good “fixer-upper” to attack with love and clean up.

 

Our essentials for getting through a move/major-cleaning/Saturday afternoon scrub-down include:

 

For Liz:

  • Strong coffee
  • Duck-tape for A’s big mouth on breaks
  • Loud annoying rock music or too-slow jazz love songs that put A to sleep, thus rendering her incapable of the help Liz deems appropriate.
  • A classy assemble including silver earrings and lots of red nail polish
  • Buckets of bleach. Because, we don’t know why.

Showing perfect "broom dancing" form... Picture copywrite Adrian Brannan

 

For A:

 

  • A bull-horn. Because….why not?
  • A pair of 4 dollar Levi overalls found in a thrift-store, which have been painted with flowers and rolled up to a very white shin.
  • Matching blue bandana
  • Bob Dylan, Charles de Lint or Eddie Vedder to talk to while not really accomplishing anything of value.
  • A feather headdress made while she should be mowing because of that one movie we saw the other night…you know? The one with the girl and the mom and the outdoor fort that was so cool?! HEY! Can WE build a fort?!?!?!

 

  • A needs nothing more. She’s done cleaning house.

 

A showing a classic Brannan sister cleaning uniform including: Fishnets, Hair bandana and cowboy boots! Copywrite Adrian Brannan

 

 

Let the cleaning begin.

 

Liz: A, you know the vacuum wont actually pick anything up unless you turn it ON?

A: I know…but it’s so loud and Boyfriend is scared so we’re just going to wait and attach scrub brushes to our feet and skate around in circles.

Liz: You are not Eloise and this is not the Plaza.

 

A: I’m hungry.

Liz: You have cleaned one window.

 

Liz: OMG. READ THIS TEXT!!! It’s SOOO CUTE!!! bats eyelashes

A: I hate you.

 

A: What IS this?

Liz: It’s a…uh…umm…wanna beer?

A: How about lunch and a beer?

Liz: It’s 9 o’clock….

A: Exactly!

 

Liz: WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING?!?!?!?!

A: I’m done cleaning!

 

Here are a few of my tips for cleaning house….

 

  • Sweeping is only fun when dancing with the broom to Sinatra.
  • A uniform can do wonders.
  • Don’t answer the door…
  • Dogs shall be vacuumed at any given time.
  • A top hat is also necessary

 

 

 

And finally, remember that in the event that a last minute trip, fun dinner out or on the fly bronc ride occurs….CLEANING CAN ALWAYS WAIT!!!

 

Until next time loves,

Xo

~Adrian

 

Mornings with the blondes….Part 1

Ahhh those little rituals that make up the funny parts of our day here in the little house…..

 

It constantly surprises people that Liz and I can live together as perfectly as we do with how different we are. Different? Who US?! No I say! And yet….well…maybe….

 

You see, a normal morning in the crazy blonde sister’s house goes like this….

 

 

First, Liz’s horrible obnoxious and mind-ringing alarm goes off two hours before she actually intends to get out of bed because this is the time that my dog starts freaking out. He flings his little black furry body against my door as hard as he can, while making a noise that seems to be a cross between the war cry of a Masi warrior and a baby goat and trying to keep his leg’s crossed while at the same time wake me up to let him out.

Mornings are not my friend! *Picture copyright Adrian Brannan*

 

 

The only problem with this strategy is that I could practically sleep through the Cuban missal crisis if need-be and I never hear him. At this point it is usually 20 minutes past and since I don’t pick up my cell-phone (as I’ve already thrown it across the room) Liz resorts to yelling at me until I scream something back and slide some part of my body out from under my covers to try and do something to get my little dog to shut up.

He never does and I’ll finally crawl out of my back room and growl rude things at him while we trudge to the back door and stub our toes (well, my toes) and knock things over in the early morning darkness.

 

Just as I am falling back asleep, Liz decides to pop out of her stupidly comfortable double bed that she never allows me to get into because apparently I bring “AS MUCH SAND AS A D*MN BEACH!” with me when I snuggle. Weird. I never noticed.

Must....brush....hair... *Pictures copyright Adrian Brannan*

 

Liz’s mornings consist of being as annoyingly happy as is humanly possible while playing loud rap and rock music that offends my overly-sensitive-morning ears to the highest degree possible. The covers are tucked in and around my head when she will come bounding into my room, fling herself on top of my miserable form and then call her creepy rat dog in to pounce on me and look weirdly at me until I have to get up just to get away from their sheer joy. It’s SICK.

 

I drag myself to the coffee laden/flower baring/rawhide cutting counter and try to fill a cup without having it spilled by Liz who is by now doing pirouettes around the kitchen while singing something that sounds like “Under the Sea” and trying to scrub off the ink mustache I drew on her yesterday while she napped. Hehe Throw in a top hat and some jamming hip-hop moves and you have Liz’s happy dance.

 

Now, this is something very distinctly different about us two sisters.

Liz has a HAPPY dance for the MORNING.

I have a MONRING dance to become HAPPY.

 

Liz has a dance resembling a ballerina-gone-bad, sometimes with sweats tucked into cowboy boots and flinging pots and pans around as if her life depended on it. Or the next day it could be a move similar to the one done during a home-town rendition of “Cotton eyed Joe”, executed by the splits and then screaming for help until someone (AKA me) comes to assist her with that force which is necessary to remove her prostrate form from the kitchen floor.

Your welcome Liz.

Typical morning at the Brannan sister house... *Pictures copyright Adrian Brannan*

 

 

Breakfast isn’t really that hard, I mean…sure Liz believes in eating it and I don’t. Simple right? I eat breakfast at the RIGHT time of the day….usually at midnight in a casino after a show, or at 3 when I wake up with a craving then go back to sleep and Liz screams incoherently from her bedroom because I’m playing the drums like Winston Watson (in my head of course) on all of the pots and pans in my pj’s. Normal breakfasts like that you know. : )

 

My words of advice for the kitchen in the morning are these. Just DON’T. Order out, take out, snap into a slim-jim or sail out of the house to the nearest dingy diner for some greasy perfection.

 

Li’z’s words of advice?

 

Don’t cook bacon naked. :)

 

Until the afternoon post an part two loves!

 

Xoxo

~Adrian

 

*ALL IMAGES ARE COPYRIGHTED BY ADRIAN BRANNAN. PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR DUPLICATE WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Paper VS Keys….

I have always loved notebooks….they follow me everywhere.

Sometimes songs end up in notebooks…sometimes napkins, placemats, candle wrappers, the big sister’s homework….sophisticated things like that you know. I think most writers will agree that when a lyrics or phrase comes upon you though, most anything will do. I wrote a tune off the Highway 80 album called Winter Blues all up and down my hand and arm while horseback in Canada….It’s all about what you have at that exact moment and time. (its also always handy when your ink doesn’t freeze at a very important moment!)

 

At Christmas time, birthdays and graduation-I am always sure to find more than one small little blue book, leather engraved lined paper filled tally-book, or a simple wire-bound space to jot-down thoughts and ideas from a family that understands how weird I am about paper.

 

I’ve always been picky about things to write on…. it’s funny because mostly my handwriting is so terrible that sometimes even I can’t read it. Rivaling the blasé devil-may-care attitude of a 5th grade boy, I neglected my penmanship when younger and still haven’t quite seemed to find the time to work out all the kinks….funny enough this sometimes can come in handy. While sitting next to overly nosy classmates  (When I know I should be studying but I’m writing instead!) the impossibility of deciphering my scrawl affords me the ability to not have to hide my paper from said nosey fellow student. On airplanes the guy who forgot to bring a book and decided to read your writing instead will soon become frustrated and realize sleep is the best option. And although it will never win me any points for “best calligrapher of the year” it’s almost comforting to me when I write.  The familiarity of touching favorite pen or pencil to paper can bring about more words for me than any computer screen could.

 

I know and respect so many amazing writers who all have beautifully distinct methods of writing, and I always love hearing about them.

One of the most interesting reoccurring things I hear talked about is the preference for a technologically advanced and fast way of getting the words down quick and sweet…..or an older, more thought provoking and methodical way of putting them down on paper…for me, it will always be paper and pen I think….besides, when you’re horseback-a tally book is easier to carry than a Mac! :)

 

Xoxo

 

~Adrian

 

Morning thoughts…

Goooooooddd morning loves!

 

(that is my excited morning voice if you couldn’t tell)

 

I am sitting here drinking coffee and going through all of my favorite morning blog-reads (which include of course Mindy Hoggan and her Gypsy Tales and rodeo trails and Buckaroo Barbie’s awesome girly posts)

Sitting on the back porch of the roost and thinking about all of the awesome things that are coming up in life right now…

In case you didn’t know, there is a LOT going on right now…and I mean a LOT. As my dad say’s “I’m busier than a one armed coat hanger!” and that’s the truth!

 

The other day I was writing my “Thanks” for the new CD Buckaroogirl , and was struck by what I was saying as I wrote. And sitting here this morning thinking over what I was saying about how much those people meant to me it really struck home how many amazing folks I have been blessed to have in my life.

 

I have a new project with a very dear friend that will be coming up this next year, and I can’t wait to tell you all about it….at the moment, it’s top-secret-but I promise you will be some of the first to know…. J

 

For some reason the other day, at about midnight I sat up in bed wide awake. Something woke me up, and for a moment it took me a second to get my barings… did I hear a bump in the night? Was I thirsty? Nope. None of the above. I woke up, grabbed a pencil and some computer paper and started sketching away.

Now, a LOT of paint and canvases (which I’ll show you one day!) and a ton of sketches later I’m still enjoying it. It seems some other folks like it to, so I can now add charchoel smuges to my ink splatters when I write….

 

 

I also woke up this morning with a huge need to start playing the Mandoline, Wurlizter and banjo….not all at once as that might be slightly difficult….but all of them none the less. Hmmm I feel a hunt for new strings coming on!

 

 

I hope everyone is loving their fall, I can finally say that I think Buckaroogirl  will be out sooner than I expected, DEFINETLY in time for Christmas presents (as I know some of you have been worried about!) and of course, I can’t wait to hear what all of you amazing listeners think.

 

 

I love you al, and thanks for readingl!

Xoxo

~Adrian