We had rented a Ford Taurus in Amsterdam, driven up to Copenhagen and then down through Germany to Austria and into Italy. It was 1968 and I was traveling with my wife and my two young boys through Europe to visit our cowboy/painter/sculptor friend Harry Jackson who was married to my wife’s friend Sarah. As we approached Pietra Santa, we found Harry and Sarah by doing what Harry had told us to do, which was just to ask for the “cowboy”.
They had a nice place with a studio attached and a little paddock with a horse. Inside the house was a fireplace which had been made to Harry’s specifications which were that it had a large enough opening that he was able to sit on his horse inside of it.