Author Elle Marlow

Yeah. the title sums it up nicely.  Basically, I am going to be in Tombstone Aug 10-11 for the Doc Holliday's event and I have this friend...

Don't have a horse? Thinking it might be fun? Have some neighbors with horses and what appears to be a decent marriage? Pull up a lawn chair, grab a beer and some popcorn and let me fill you in on why your horsey neighbors always have that grizzled look cowboys are famous for. Here's how it starts. "Honey, let's go to the rodeo." This is when you run for the fridge to grab a beer, set up a lawn chair and start your video rolling. It's show time.  Step One. Somebody has to back the truck to the trailer.  Usually it's the husband. But as you will learn, this doesn't always mean that the husband was the best choice. He starts the truck and leaves the driver's door open, his left leg is casually draped over the edge because this is going to go so quickly, there's no point putting both feet inside the vehicle. He peers up through the rear-view mirror. Meanwhile, his wife is straddling the hitch, eyeballing him with doubt. Her immediate la

When you think haunted house, typically the mind envisions beautiful old Victorian style homes with sweeping staircases, attics, basements and creepy dead trees that loom over the entire thing. You don't usually think trailer. Oh, let me be politically correct as to not insult this place or it's inhabitant. Manufactured Home.  I'm here to set you straight. At first I thought I was imagining this. I mean it's a new trai...manufactured home, brand new. No ghost here. Never really thought of ghost as being anything more than floating bed sheets that used to scare the shit out of me when I was a kid watching Scooby-Doo.   Not anymore. I'm woke. Real woke now.  It started innocently enough. The house is sitting on a tad over an acre of land. The entry is a double heavy iron gate that you need the strength of two bears to open. We are also in the desert and it's hot, so getting out of the air condition car to push open hot gates is a chore. Well, my teen

Motherhood. You will survive it.  What you think you look like-->  What you really look like--->     And it's okay. It really is. As a wife and a mother, when I enter Walmart, I wish to drape myself with my invisibility cloak. You don't see me, I don't see you. As far as I'm concerned, Walmart is the black hole of existence. But not my husband. He morphs into George Clooney and has to stop and shake hands with every other soul he passes. He knows them all. He shines at Walmart and I am a spider immersing myself into the nearest crack to get away. It's not that I'm a bitch...okay, I'm a bitch. But mainly, I'm just super uncomfortable trying to explain why I look like I just wrestled a 400 pound cat while living through a tornado. I also don't want to explain why I'm holding a bottle of tequila, Ice cream cones and a bag of artichokes. The real me should never see the light of day. Ever.     It gets worse whe

This was a fun day trip. The street scene and the Bordello was absolutely fun and amazing. Take a look at the full vlog on my YouTube channel. Be sure to subscribe to catch more vlogs. There's several on the channel to view, Tombstone, Jerome, Sonoita, Bisbee. :) Click below to see the Vlog. Elle Marlow Location visits Goldfield Ghost Town.

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