my mom tells me.

my mom tells me about new things that are happening on fishburn ranch

if I close my eyes

I can reach out & touch the rough surface of the barn

I can cling with my legs onto my big black horse

I can run in the wind toward Gods mountains

summer in crooked creek consists of

river

welding shops

bumpy places to mow grass

absolutely huge & overflowing gardens

wild flowers

montys land that is teasing us

with so many dreams & SO much work

loud welding trucks

sweaty frothy horses

AC

phone calls to my favourite sister

phone calls that last hours

weekend camping trips to the mountains

fresh trout sooo yum

bow & arrows

target practise

monty shooting all the squirrels that yazzie trees

yazzie swallowing squirrels whole

weekend trips to edmontom

hours on the lake

hours at the river

some boys set up diving boards in a log jam

definitely a fun addition to life

a very fun week in spirit wood

a brandnew & very expensive well on montys land

such cute of a A-frame

so many trees

we shot a 2300 pound bull & made it into hamburger

bear hunting (but that was spring)

we bought a mini cooper

I bought a cactus

my favourite cat named phudi rada phudi is gone

pray that he comes back

sand in our hair & sand on the cabin floor

I think I will dream about october now

for my birthday monty is taking me to see regan

& caitlin

& azure belle

& the new little pipsqueak that hasn't arrived yet.

so to Montreal we go.

& then to Hartford.

& in-between we get to see

my favourite bri 🤍

our life is fast. it's good. mary samantha told me it was good. less time to be lonely. less time to think of sad things.

I still cry sometimes. but I think i'm getting better at not crying. I usually cry because I miss my mom. & fishburn. & my family. & I also cry because I miss my unit sisters. & so many moments that I know I will never get to love again. it's ok to cry I think.

especially if it's because i'm missing such healthy passions.

my arms around shady pine.

his mane coving one side of his neck.

he playfully nibbles my fingers.

knowing there's a chance I have carrots.

I see my reflection in his eyes.

a different reflection then what it used to be.

I think we both know it's different.

& we both miss the old.

but we are happy.

his tails wips across my face,

chasing the flies

bringing stinging tears,

mixing with the ones already there.

I jump onto his back & feel the warmth.

sticky against my legs.

he reaches around & sniffs my muddy feet.

our friendship is the same.

& always will be.

my horse & I.

if I climb the hill.

& if it's really clear.

I can see mountains.

they aren't my mountains.

not fishburns mountains.

but they give me a far away feeling of home.

they watch me when it's clear.

maybe.

xo. ginger.