Well Met

Every once in a while, my blog sends me a message, saying that it is getting viewed like crazy at the moment.

I never quite know why or how that happens. I mean, sure, I know that I have been stirring things up in the equestrian world a few times, and that I have posted some not so diplomatic pictures and such, and I know that when I do that, I am bound to attract attention to my blog.

But sometimes, I swear, I have not done anything, and people just look me up anyway.

That is kind of scary, to be honest.

This blog is mostly me, writing about my life, my horses, my job at Dark Mare Pictures, and my writing and my books. Why would people be looking that up, really?

I know that when traffic on the page is suddenly exploding, it is because someone, somewhere, is linking to me, telling their friends and followers to stop by. The only trouble is, I can’t tell, no matter how much I look up my settings, who they are, or why they are linking to me.

And sure, that is the thing about the internet. Never post anything you don’t want people to know, because there is a chance that someone will actually read it. And link to it. And once you have published a post, that ship is sailed. You can delete it all you want, but truth is, its out there and there really is no deleting it.

All my followers, for instance, get an email, whenever I publish a post. That email includes a link to the post, so they can look up my blog and read it there, but the email includes the written words of the post as well. No matter if I delete the post on my blog or not, everything I wrote in the post when I published it, has been permanently saved on my followers email.

I hope that most of you guys that follow me, read my posts on my blog, because I usually edit them after I’ve published then, because that makes it easier for me to find all the typing errors and such. But they will all be in the email you get from my blog…

Anyway, when my blog suddenly alerts me that I have more than usual guests visiting, I always wonder why.

It is a strange feeling. Not knowing what it is people are reading.

Again, when I published the pictures from JBK or from the Danish Nationals, of bleeding horses and any imaginable torture device used in the equestrian sport, I knew why people stopped by. Granted, the amount of views they attracted, was daunting as well, not to mention the amount of people replying to the posts by telling me to just accept that “some horses bleed and it is not the riders or the sports fault…” was overwhelming. (I delete those comments usually, by the way, if you have not noticed. Or I just don’t respond to them. I have no need to waste my time, arguing with anybody – online- who think that there can be any defending making an animal bleed in the name of a sport.)

But at least I know, when I chose to publish those posts, going after the FEI or the Danish Equestrian Federation, that I am poking the dragon.

And for me, it really is poking a dragon. I am not a people person. I really don’t like interacting with people at all, online or not. Running this blog, not to mention Twitter and Face Book, has been quite a challenge for me. (And yeah, now I mostly got the Dark Mare Twitter and Face Book too, so hurrah…) I am always a little terrified when people comment on my posts.

Not because I am afraid that they won’t like me, or that they will disagree. You know? It’s not that. It’s… I don’t know. And it does depend on who, of course. I do have quite a few friends, whom I love hearing from, don’t get me wrong.

What I am trying to say, is that I am as bad as this whole social media thing, as I am at being social in general and when my blog suddenly explodes, it freaks me out a little.

I know it shouldn’t. I am a writer. I want people to read my books, right? And my blog?

Uhm, yeah. Most of the time, I guess I do. Just not too many at the same time. That does get scary.

I have been asked quite a few times how my latest book is doing. I honestly don’t know. I am not looking it up to check. I kind of don’t want to know. It’s out, that is good enough for me. I am better off, not knowing if people read it or not.

So really, I wish my blog wouldn’t tell me when traffic increases drastically. At least when I can’t tell what post people are looking up. That always makes me feel like I am about to be blindsided. It could just be one of the horse related posts. And those linking to it, could mainly agree with me. Or, they could think that I am dead wrong, and be busy looking up my blog to drown me in hate mail…

I run a small group on Face Book, against horse racing. Mostly I created the group as a counter part to a group that was encouraging people to “save horse racing” and make sure that the industry didn’t lose their sponsors. My group is very open and I didn’t think to install any safely measures on it. Really, it was mostly just a counter to a group of people that pissed me off, by claiming that two year olds, ridden so hard their bones break, is perfectly excusable in the name of a sport.

Some of those people joined my group though, and started writing all kinds of nasty things on the group wall. I wasn’t online. I am not online a lot. I don’t have a smart phone. A couple of my friends spent most of the day arguing with those people, getting bullied like crazy, until I signed in and kicked those people out of the group. Really, life is too short for that, in every possible way.

I am all for discussing things, reasonably. Again, I don’t mind that people disagree with me, but it has to be within reason. Don’t ever try to tell me that a horse, that ruptures a lunge, while jumping, is just a “bleeder” and it is perfectly okay. Don’t ever argue to me that killing on average three horses a day, on the race track, is okay.

Sure, we can talk about shoes, and nosebands and bits and draw reins, just don’t be stupid. My life is too short for that. I do not have the necessary people skills to deal with that. Still, if I do get not too friendly trolls on my blog, I will have to deal with them, and that always bother me. Again, not because they don’t like me, but…

I think it is the fact that anyone would try to argue for the horsefriendlyness of racing, that kills my spirits. Just like I can’t wrap my mind around how some people can defend what goes on in all other aspects of the equestrian sport. I guess what truly bothers me, is that I lose faith in humanity, every time I am confronted with those kinds of people.

I always assume that it is one of my FEI bashing posts that gets the traffic, when it increases, but today, I don’t think it is. I checked my site stats, and it is simply my home page that is drawing attention. Which, of course, makes me wonder even more.

I have some very personal posts on this blog, about my depression and a lot of the crazy little things that goes on in my head. If this traffic is not about horses, when what?

I should go live in a cave somewhere, without an internet connection. I’d be better off. I really would. But then, there would be no Netflix, and no watching Supernatural…

So, what I am trying to say here, is; “Well met, everybody. Nice of you to stop by. I love it that you do, and now, I’ll go hide, because I am a crazy person. Well met, indeed.”

Posted in Short Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Baby Raincloud And The Starstone Pony

Happy posts… Right.

I know that I have this blog, for my My Little Pony collection,


To keep me from posting too many ponies here, but one of the things that does make me happy these days, is my ponies, so please bear with me.

I don’t think I ever introduced The Starstone pony;


I know, making a pony like that… Too big headed? Maybe. I kind of like her. And I made her, mostly, because I found a red paint I really wanted to use, and she just took on life of her own. Much like writing the series, really…


Her hair glows in the dark as well. Just because… why not? The Starstone series are fantasy, she had to be a little magical, right?


Lately, I have been watching Supernatural again. I really can’t let go of that show at the moment, even though I know what is going to happen. To be honest, it was heartbreaking, watching it the first time, but knowing where the story is going, isn’t making it any easier. What do you know…

So, while I watch it, I like to keep my hands busy, and here we have Baby Raincloud;


My newest custom pony.


She is pretty cute, if I may say so myself. She hangs out with the Starstone pony and one of my many  Baby Moondancer’s, (and Baby Cotton Candy and Baby Blossom,) next to my computer.


Mostly they are making me smile. Only Baby Moondancer tends to give me the evil eye for not working when I should, and watching TV shows instead…

Welcome to “my crazy.” But seriously, it is pretty awesome, to be able to make ponies like these ones. The Starstone pony is even made from a fakie. Not that you can tell, right? And Baby Raincloud was once a worn down, well loved and played with, Baby Firefly. I love giving them new life like this.

I know that it is hard to tell from this picture, but the Baby Moondancer is in really bad shape. She has pony cancer, which means that her plastic, her body, is deteriorating. I am not even sure it is worth the trouble to try and fix her up, but for now, she is hanging out with the others, while I figure out how to help her the best.

And she makes me smile, nonetheless. I always adored Baby Moondancer. Ever since she got the Rainbow of Light and was kidnapped by the evil Katrina… (Speaking of the old TV series, here, I am not completely insane…) She is kind of a childhood hero of mine.

Anyway, I hope this post is a little more cheerful than what else I have been posting lately. I actually think it is a sign that I may be accepting the continued rain we are having, when I start painting rain clouds on my ponies…

Posted in Short Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


We got the first snow of the year today. All day, I have seen pictures of my friends, building snow men, or posting news about how much snow is blocking their roads. I don’t know what part of Denmark they are living in, because where I am, I couldn’t build a snowman.

Sure, we got snow. But mostly, it was just really, really cold rain. The horses got themselves stranded outside, for mysterious reasons, so when I showed up to feed them this morning, in what was mostly pouring ice rain, they were all standing at the far end of the pasture, shaking their tails off.

Once they saw me, they realized that they had houses though, and ran for shelter… Clever guys… Or something…

They tend to do that. I am not quite sure what happens when they suddenly forget that they have shelter, and stays outside. One of them has to remember the house, and then they are all happy to have rediscovered it. But if no one remembers, they just freeze, until I show up and remind them.

That would have never happened when Poseidon was still alive. No offence to Saleem, but my little pasture does kind of need a strong leader. Saleem is growing with the task, but he is still lacking focus. When he gets wet and cold, he gets miserable and once he is miserable, he stops thinking. Apocalipse should be the second in command, and he should take over, but he doesn’t. He learned that from his mom. If you don’t make it into the houses before you get wet, it is too late… Forever. Then you might as well just surrender to your misery.

So once the Alpha and the second in command fails, one should look to the Beta mare, right?

Trouble is, that is Tardis and she is not herding anyone. She is the one of my horses, who seeks shelter the least. And if she does, she isn’t bringing the others. She just sneaks off on her own.

Marble then, she is clever, right? Well, clearly, she can get stuck among the others, just as well as young Ablaze. If neither Alpha, Beta or right hand man, seeks shelter, no one does.

Luckily, Saleem is a fast learner. When I showed up this evening, he was still in the house, with the kids. Only Tardis and Apocalipse was roaming the pasture.

I am not too worried about them though. I know that most horse owners hate to find their horses shaking from the cold rain, but to be honest… Once they start eating hay and once they do seek shelter, they will be fine without being wrapped up in blankets.

I did discover tonight, that the light on my scooter have finally given out. It has been flickering for a while now, but this evening, it wouldn’t turn on. I have a tiny flashlight in my key chain, and I will say, driving through the dark, with what felt like the light of a candle, was a rather interesting experience. Did I mention that we have no street light and it was snow/raining, and the road is still under water some of the way?

So far, the winter have not really begun, and I am tired of it already.

Add to that, the cat and i broke my phone today, (she has been gunning for it for weeks,) so I will say that both the phone and the scooter in one day, that is just peachy.

I should count myself lucky though, that the snow didn’t really reach my part of the kingdom. And I do. I really try to keep a positive outlook on things. You can’t tell, right? I know. I’ll try and do happier blog posts in the future. Promise.

Posted in Horses | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Screams

We have a pig farmer as next door neighbour at my pasture. I have never spoken to the guy. Or any of this family, really. I have never seen any of his pigs.

He has cows too. They seem to be happy, well cared for cows, that actually gets to go out on a pasture every day. Which is something most cows never get to do. All in all, he is a cool neighbour, because he doesn’t interact with me. He keeps his trees out of my electric fence, and he does not complain if I cut some of them down once in a while, to ensure my pasture.

His pigs doesn’t get to go out though. Not ever. I only know that he has them… Because they scream.

They scream, when they are beaten.

There is just no way of describing it. No words that could do it justice.

I am not a vegan, because of some religious believes. I don’t eat animals, because the thought of meet makes me sick. And, because it is an industry build on torture, abuse and pain, so far beyond anything you can imagine.

I guess that most people don’t know what goes on in pig farms. I hope they don’t know. If they know, I can’t imagine how anybody would ever buy bacon. You have got to be a special kind of broken inside, to support an industry like this one, if you know.

When pigs are loaded into transports to be taken to the slaughter house, they are beaten. And I am not talking a slap on the ass, to make it move. I am talking beaten, as in, “if this was a dog, I’d have you arrested instantly, beaten.”

They “tattoo” the pigs. Give them a number. They do so, with a hammer, beating the number into their flesh. And they use electric devices to make them move.

I know, my fence is electrified. My poor horses, who am I to talk then? It’s not the same though. First off, it is illegal in Denmark, not to have your fence electrified when you have horses. Second, my horses can just stay away from the fence, and it never has to hurt them. Third, it keeps people out of my pasture… Which is a really, really good thing.

I was at the stable the other day. It was a nice sunny day for a change. I was grooming the horses, when the transport showed up next door.

When I say “next door,” I will have to add, that it is quite a long way away from my horses houses, even if it is next to part of my pasture.

Then the hitting began. And the screaming.

The force used, for me to be able to hear the blows, from such a distance, clear as day… I don’t have the words. And the screaming. The pure sound of animals, horrified, trapped, tortured, not understanding, not having any chance of escaping… It is the truest sound of agony I have ever heard.

And it went on for a full hour.

My first instinct was, to be honest, to call the police. If this had been ANY other animal, beating it, torturing it, making it scream like this… The police would have come.

When I was little, we lived in an apartment building, and the guy next door would come home from work every day, and beat his dog like crazy. The entire building heard the screams of that animal. My mom reported him, and the police came and took the dog away. He moved soon after, but I remember clearly how my mom told us to stay away from the guy. He knew we had reported him. And if he beats his dog, who is to say if he will hurt a child as well?

I remember being terrified of this guy. Clearly, he had to be evil inside, otherwise, how could he treat a defenceless animal like this?

Listening to the pigs screaming in horror and pain, I remembered this dog. It was a Dalmatian. It was beautiful. And when he was done with it, the white parts of its body was turning blue, that is how bruised it was. But it was a dog. The police cared.

What of these pigs then? Who would care? What on earth could I do?

Everything I am rebels against listening to abuse like this, and not stop it. But how could I have?

These pigs are going to be slaughtered anyway, who cares if their last hours on this earth are spent in agony and fear? Surely not the police. Surely, none of the animal welfare organizations would have jurisdiction. The truth is, as long as it is a pig, you can treat it any way you want.

Nobody cares.

I did consider going over there. Confronting the guys. Creating a scene. Something. Take pictures. Whatever. Anything that might make the abuse stop.

But I didn’t. For one simple reason.

Nothing good would come of it.

It would make this guy hate me, of course, and then what? What might he do to my horses, when I went home? If he doesn’t care about beating up a pig, what would stop him from taking revenge on my horses?

The truth is, if it had only been me, I would have gone over there. I would have called the police and I would have most likely been arrested myself, for trespassing on his property. But at least, my continence would have been clear.

Now, all I can say, is that I took the cowards way out and listened in silence as these poor animals cried for help, and no one came. But at least, my horses don’t have an angry neighbour next to our pasture. I can’t save the world, I can’t change people, but I can do everything in my power to keep my horses safe.

I may be paranoid. But I do live in Denmark, and we have a lot of crazy people. Every year, horses get stabbed, molested, or cut open on their pasture. Yes, my fence is electrified. I really, really want to keep people out…

And I don’t dare piss off the neighbours. Especially not the ones who displays such a deep rooted lack of empathy.

So, I listened. And they screamed. And screamed. The sound of metal, hitting flesh was piercing. Almost as piercing as the screams.

When the transport left, I was almost relieved. At least, their suffering would soon be over. And I wouldn’t have to listen to it anymore.

But the transport will be back. And then what? I’ll listen quietly again, when the next pigs are picked up? When do I reach my breaking point, and… Does it matter?

As long as people keep buying the meet, nothing is ever going to change.

I do not belong in this world, I really don’t. These screams will haunt me forever. I will never be able to let go of how I did nothing. How I am going to do nothing the next time too. How I can’t change the way these pigs are treated, no matter how much I want to.

I don’t want to tell people what to eat. I am not that kind of a vegan. I do not wish to impose my values on others. But common decency and just a hint of humane treatment, is that too much to ask for? Can we truly be an entire society that holds no compassion for those unable to defend themselves?

I’ll stop myself right there, because when the Syrian refugees walked our freeways, we didn’t help them. We still don’t. The police even stopped those who tried.

If we can’t care for our fellow man, how could I expect anybody to care for a pig?

I can’t. I know that. But that doesn’t make the screams any easier to listen to.

Posted in Short Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Water Testing

I know that a lot of people have it a lot worse than Denmark. I know. Still. I hate the rain that just keeps coming.

My pasture is under water. The lowest part of it is completely gone these days.


Usually it is drained, but notice the machine working on the road in the back ground? This is what the road looks like at the moment, and no one knows where our drain pipes went, but gone they are…


Even the usually dry parts of the pasture is starting to flood now. I can see my grass dying with every step the horses take when the ground is so soft.


Luckily, the horses are cool. They kind of like playing in water… Got to love their spirit.

I am busy digging paths for the water, creating little rivers, leading it around my houses, preventing the water from flooding the horses sleeping places.


The things you do, when you have horses…

And then the road started to flood. I swear, I didn’t see it coming. When I went to the stable last night, in was dark, raining, and I reached the part of the road where there are no longer street lights. That means that you go from street lights, down a hill, into a forest, (which makes the night even darker,) and they elected to stop the street lights there. Basically, you are plunged headfirst into darkness, and are completely at the mercy of the lights on your vehicle.

I responded to slow, last night. I went down that hill, saw the darkness on the road as something even darker than the dark, and then… water. I swear, the scooter just sank into it, and it exploded in my face. (My helmet is broken, so I can’t close the visor.) For about ten full seconds, I could see nothing. I got water in my nose, and stupid as I am, I opened my mouth to breathe, (which is pretty dumb, when you are under water,) and all I could do was let go of the gas and let the scooter fight its way out, hoping that I could keep it straight so I wouldn’t end up in the road side.

Today, I learned my lesson. No plunging headfirst into this hole. It is much deeper than it looks.


And it’s not clean water, you know. The things I was spitting out of my mouth afterwards… I am glad it was dark. I don’t want to know…

On the plus side, the little Explora can actually swim. She didn’t die on me. My old Grido would have stalled instantly if I had driven him into a minor lake like this one. A slight drizzle and he died. Turns out, Explora passed her water test with flying colors.


That is actually very heartening. I had feared winter quite a lot. And rain. There is nothing worse than stranding on the roadside with a stalling scooter, and five horses that won’t get food if you don’t make it to the stable.

At least not for me. But the rain comes close. I hate rain. I really, really do.

Posted in Horses | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


I don’t have a TV, I don’t have a radio, and I do my very best to not keep up with the world around me. Most of the time, I am doing pretty good.

I couldn’t fail to notice how Face Book exploded last Friday though, and for the first time since I took down my TV, did I look up our online news stations, to find out what was going on.

I don’t want to get political. I do follow a few of our Danish politicians on Face Book, just to keep up a little, so I am not completely out of the loop. As a matter of fact, I think I am more informed than most, who get their updates from the evening news.

I will say that I am very happy to see how many of my friends on Face Book have been very fast to not only show sympathy for the victims of the Paris attacks, but to point out as well, that now is not the time to hate on each other.

The #NotInMyName campaign has been spread like a wild fire through my friend list, and that at least, gives me a little hope.

I am astounded by how fast France and the US responded, and started throwing bombs back at ISIS. I mean, less than 48 hours right? That almost seems impossible…

I am not much for conspiracy theories, but some things I just can’t wrap my head around. Like those passports that always seem to be able to survive explosions. Turns out, once you become a terrorist, your passport becomes fire immune?

I honestly don’t know what to think about any of this. I do know though, who an attack like this one is hurting the most. (Aside from the victims, of course.) The refugees. Those who needs our help and compassion. Those whom we, in Denmark, watched walk down our freeway, and didn’t help. Injured and starving, they walked through our land, and the best we could do, was let them be. They were running from bombs, death and destruction back in Syria, and they were terrified to get caught by the Danish police.

I can’t say I blame them. Our society is deteriorating to fast these days that it is downright terrifying.  Aside from the ads placed in papers all over the world, telling refugees not to come here, our politicians are now busy passing a law that will allow any immigrant or anyone who is not a Danish citizen, to be arrested and held indefinitely, without a trial.

That sounds reassuring for the law and I don’t know, basic human rights?

I truly don’t have the words to describe how terrifying this is.

Add to that, our politicians are not just going after none Danish citizens, they are busy cutting support to those of our own, who needs it the most. The unemployed.

Basically, in Denmark, we are no longer fighting poverty, we are fighting the poor. That’s a sad development.

I used to think that one day, I’d move away. One day, I’d find somewhere else to live. Some land that was run by reasonable people. Compassionate people. Following the news these past few days, I honestly don’t know where to go anymore.

We even had a politician who was outspoken enough to go on national TV and state that it was time we started bombing civilians. Women and children.

It is not so much that he said it that bothers me, it is that he wasn’t instantly arrested, that is getting to me. How is encouraging bombing women and children, not illegal? Isn’t it terror if you are white?

And then there are the pictures of bombs, that have run across Face Book as well, with a message written on them. “From Paris with love.”  On bombs.

Come on.

Hatemongering? No kidding.

I can never believe that fighting violence with violence is the answer. I don’t know what the answer is, but dropping bombs on people… Letting sick and starving children walk our freeways without offering assistance… That cannot be the answer either.

Would you look at that. I did get a little political here… So while we are at it, I’ll just leave this video, from John Lennon and Yoko Ono, and hope that someday, someone may listen.

And with that, I’ll go look in my closet and hope to find a secret passage way to Narina or someplace nice and safe… I would like to ad, that whatever acts of terror the Danish government is participating in these days, is sure as hell isn’t in my name.

That campaign shouldn’t just be Muslims, these days.

Posted in Short Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


For once, I am going to be quiet. I am just going to leave this here.


Posted in Short Stories | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment