fillerbunny

So I know I'm probably gonna get ripped on hardcore for this entry but hey, I'm tough, I can take it...

Sometimes I miss Connecticut. I know you're thinking why? There's nothing there! Well that's true but still....
- I miss waking up to roosters instead of lawnmowers and traffic,
- I miss getting up at dawn when the mist is still on the lake and the red Efts (lil bright red newts) are still all over the trails
-I miss sitting on the back porch of the bunk house with the other ranchers and polishing our boots up for the big dance
-I miss all my friends from overseas who referred to me as a yankee or a colonist and pissed me off on a daily basis
-I miss the stupid fucking cheers at flagpole and the traditions that nobody but ranchers seemed to really get
-I miss watching the sunset up at the top pasture while the horses are grazing and the last sparks of light are shining off their coats
-I miss cramming lots of people onto the tiny little bunks that were not made for more then one person
-I miss everybody curling up in cabin fifteen like kittens cause it was so cold we needed each other for warmth
-I miss my two ponies, tobiano, and Pepper
-I miss that bastard mustang Rocket and that fat pony Twix that I always fell off of when cantering bareback cause she was so damned round
-I miss walking two miles for every meal, or to use the phone, or get my mail, or check my e-mail.
-I miss the little towns of Colebrook and Winsted that had a dairy queen and a tattoo parlor and that's about it
-I miss riding out to massachussettes and staying overnight at Babrivka and telling ghost stories
-I miss sleeping outside on sunrise mountain under a blood red moon
-I miss galloping down the trails at breakneck speed on Modesty Blaze, the little arabian, and jumping over logs and rocks that were in our way
-I miss riding across the athletic field and playing bowling for geese/turkeys
-I miss the fucking guinea hens that tried to eat me
-I miss my llamas, and sheep, and bunnies, and goats, and chickens, and horses, etc.
-I miss Frodo, the little chipmunk that I saved from near death that lived in my pocket and ate the acorns I gave him while sitting on my shoulder
-I miss swimming the horses through the lake and trying not to fall off
-I miss riding the quad and trying to take the trailor through the covered bridge and knocking it right off its axils
-I miss the kids who loved me and even the ones who dedicated their every day to making me miserable
-I miss the fortyfoot swing, and the zipline
-I miss stalking porcupines with my friend Mud, and skinning hides, and making moccassins, and eating wild mushrooms, and making bowdrill fires, and harvesting mullen
-I miss staking sixty bales of hay at forty pounds a bale, Watering 32 head of horses at ten pounds a gallon
-I miss learning to barrell race and vault
-I miss riding a runaway Draft horse at dusk who had hair in his eyes down a twisty mountain pass
-I miss Beaver, who cribbed all day and was always high
-I miss being so tired at night I thought I'd fall asleep still walking
-I miss learning to foxwalk and playing drumstalks and firestalks

There's a million more things but this journal is already too long

thunder, thunderation, we're the best RANCH CAMP in the nation and when we ride with determination we create an UGH sensation, thunder thunderation..........