Crazy Person Ranch

I love Paradise Ranch- let’s get that part out of the way.  But this blog isn’t going to be about the Wild West that comes to mind when I first start thinking about Wyoming and my adventures here. It’s about another part- the folklore side of things. Any ranch you will ever go to has a legend. Most times it’s a ghost story, but you also get the Skinwalkers, the rogue predator, or the Indian curse on the place.

Paradise is pretty original; here’s our colloquial- people go crazy here. It’s not just the ranch either; the whole area knows it. Nearby we have Crazy Woman Canyon,  rumor says it’s named after one of the first victims of the Bighorn’s curse.

Remember Creeper Steve? Or the Foreman who saw people watching him from the trees? Well, we officially have a new crazy to add to the list. Out of respect, we’ll leave names at the door and call this new crazy ‘Lucy’, after Hungry Lucy. Who most of you have no idea about. Hungry Lucy is a crazy, that’s all that’s important.

It came out of nowhere; she was normal, generally happy and nothing unusual happened that day. Somewhere in the still hours of the night, I was suddenly wide awake, and a woman’s voice was shouting from the living room.

“Snakes?! You put snakes in my bed?! Yeah, yeah, wake up! I hope you are sleeping!”

She shouted all night from that point until sunrise, and she even left the Hen House to go to the Bunkhouse to harass the cowboys, then to the Bosses House and banged on the door there, saying that people were throwing up on her.

I was pretty wary, because she was also was hallucinating a ‘redhead girl’ who she raved about for a bit.

This morning the Bosses took her away to get help, and things are back to normal.

Maybe the legend is true…



Your pretty, pretty face

"You are so beautiful. I could never hurt someone as beautiful as you."
Flattering, and very pleasing- those words. And coming from an old friend, or a very close friend, they would just melt my heart like butter.
But most often that phrase comes from a semi-stranger, someone I've just met, someone swaggering and bullying and loudmouthed, someone who wants to make a quick impression and sees me as a pretty, mealy-mouthed little fool who he'd like to lay.
I am such a contradiction. If it makes me so uncomfortable and suspicious, why do I dress up so carefully to inspire those comments? And why do I then drown in devastation if those comments don't come? Like a puppy who wags it's tail and jumps at your heels until you reach over to pet it, then turns into a deer that shies away and runs to the safe shadows of the woods.
Maybe women aren't really made to make sense. Just know what's coming next; don't try to make sense of it. Science doesn't apply here. I'm a woman, after all.