In less than two days, I will be on my way to a place where there are just five people per square mile. Home of the Bucking Bronco and birthplace of Vice-President Dick Cheney, where word is, he began life as a human. This is a place where the bars have saddles for seats and the men don't order Cosmos and discuss hair care products. God, I can't wait.
Regardless of Wyoming's macho rep, I discovered that it was the first state to grant women suffrage(1869,) primarily so they could get enough votes to be admitted to the Union. With that momentum, they kept going: first female bailiff, first female justice of the peace and the first female governor, Nellie Tayloe Ross in 1925. So there.
Meanwhile . . . I crave orange dirt and blue skies, where the term 'IM' is a preface for a personal description and Blackberries are for eating with vanilla ice cream. And horses. Lots and lots of horses.
Ah, the grassy smell, the prevalent dirt, the curious upper lip, the high-pitched whinny, the muscled power - it's something I crave to be near every day. Someday, I will. My pre-pubescent pony phase may late but it's mighty and it's permanent.
1 comment:
Yay horsies! So glad to see you have a blog. . . It has already earned a special place on my bookmarks bar, right alongside Google, NPR, and the online bookstores. No pressure! :) Hugs, Leslie
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