meanwhile, back at the ranch…

I’m coming up on the 10th anniversary of my Dad’s death… This post, from years ago. comes to mind…
I haven’t gotten over my dad not being here; and I expect I never will. Although I am even further from actual farm living (and only two miles from Main St. in Hendersonville), I’m still holding on to the farmhand archetype he gave me; and proud of it.


Between two horses, two dogs, and a very suspicious cat, it feels like all I’ve accomplished this week has been cleaning up crap and mending fences. I do love my fantasy farmhand land archetype and welcome it whenever I get the chance but this past week it has been just a little too realistic. My fantasy is now tainted with the fear of phone calls and voices saying “Your dog is in my yard.” What I need is a ranch with miles and miles of fenced acreage so if I were to look out my window and not see my dogs I wouldn’t worry that they are in someone’s yard digging holes, doing their “business,” and getting me in trouble with the homeowners association.

When I was about eight or so, my daddy bought his first farm. It was about 40 acres just off Rocky River in Union County and he started…

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About writemyline

Ride like a knight. Write like a warrior.
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